Twist of Fate The Re-union
by Akeays
Summary: Heyes and Curry finally face up to their lives of crime when they unexpectedly run into an old friend.
1. Chapter 1

TWIST OF FATE

Re-union

It was a beautiful Spring day when Heyes and the Kid found themselves back in Wyoming yet again, hoping that nobody in this small town was going to recognize them. 'In all the trains and banks they'd robbed, they never shot anyone.' Yeah, right. Well that didn't mean that anyone wasn't going to shoot them! Both young men had become quite proficient at the casual stroll down the boardwalk even though their eyes were constantly scanning and every nerve and muscle was ready for action if the need suddenly arose.

They had made good time after leaving Porterville and had intended to avoid staying in any towns along the way until they were safely across the state line. It had actually been quite warm and pleasant camping out and since, for a change, they had enough money and provisions to last a while they hadn't foreseen any need to risk going into the towns they passed along the way. That is until Kid's big gelding, Buck threw a shoe and the fellow was making it quite clear that the bare foot was becoming rather "ouchy" on the hard and pebbly trail and shouldn't his human be doing something about it!?

"Sorry Heyes." Kid had mumbled as he stood by Buck shaking his head at the offending shoe. "I guess we better return to that town we passed a couple of miles back and get this taken care of."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "At least you have the shoe so the blacksmith just has to tack it back on, save some money that way. But that smithy back in Porterville sure didn't do a good job. Last time we'll be using him I think."

"No kidding. That shoe should have been good for at least a month." Kid tucked the shoe into his saddle-bag and remounting, they turned the horses back the way they had just come.

The two men rode along together in companionable silence. As is so often the case, they were totally unaware that this one small incident was going to set in motion a series of events that would test their courage and their friendship and would ultimately change their lives forever.

So there they were. Karma-Lou, Buck and the wayward shoe had been left at the Livery along with instructions for their keep and the boys found themselves with an afternoon to kill in a town they didn't really want to be in. So, where would our boys go if they found themselves in a town with nothing to do? Why, the saloon of course!

They almost made it too, but then the one thing they were always trying to avoid, happened; they were recognized.

"Thaddeus! Joshua! Hey boys!"

Heyes and Kid stopped in their tracks just as they were about to enter the bat wing doors of the saloon. They both felt the tingle of shock at being beckoned but also a measure of relief that it was by their aliases and not their actual names. Kid's hand instinctively dropped to the handle of his gun but it went no further, and then suddenly both men were grinning from ear to ear with recognition at the older man running across the street towards them.

"Jesse!"

"Hey Jesse! What are you doing here?!"

"Howdy boys." Jesse Jordan stepped onto the boardwalk smiling broadly and everyone shook hands all around. "What a surprise to find you in these parts! How are you doing?"

"Oh, same as usual." answered Heyes.

"Just trying to stay out of trouble." Came Kid's response.

"What about you? Asked Heyes. "We thought you folks moved to Denver."

"Well we did." Answered Jesse, "But, well that's a long story. I'm just in town here looking over some breeding stock for our ranch over in Colorado. Which way you fellas headed? If you got time why don't you swing by our place for a few days? The girls would love to see you, well I guess I should call them young ladies now. You won't believe how they've grown up!"

Heyes and Kid exchanged quick smiles. This was quite a mouthful for Jesse, whom the boys remembered as being a quiet man of few words.

"Another ranch Jesse? Asked Kid, "Thought you were going to go back to teaching."

"I did." Came the matter of fact response and then he sighed and smiled "Well, we've gone through a lot of changes these last few years. Come on, I'd love for you to see the place since you two boys had a hand in us getting it."

"We did?" asked Heyes

"How was that?" Curry said at the same time.

"Well now, that's just another thing I can tell you about when you come visit." Answered Jesse with a smug look on his face. He knew he had their curiosity up

Heyes and Kid exchanged a look. They both knew they shouldn't do it, but they both remembered Belle's good cooking and seeing the two girls again could be fun. What harm could a quick side trip cause? Neither of them wanted to honestly answer that because they both wanted to go, so they ignored their inner instincts. The agreement passed between them. Heyes smiled.

"Alright Jesse." He said in response to Jesse's hopeful smile. "How about we buy you a beer while you give us directions and then we'll see you out there in a couple of weeks."

"Sounds fine." Said Jesse and his smile broadened, "You're in for a treat—and a surprise!"

Later that afternoon, Jesse had departed by train, leaving the boys to keep themselves entertained through the rest of that day and evening. Despite some aggressive pushing and prodding Jesse had refused to give them any more information about his family and the boys had to admit that they had been reeled in hook line and sinker. They had no choice but to take Jesse up on his offer and stop by their ranch because by now they just had to know what was going on.

Staying away from the Jordan family had been something they had easily agreed upon. It wasn't because of dislike; in fact it was the exact opposite reason that had forced the decision. The short time they had spent with the Jordan's and their two daughters had been like finding a home again, they had cherished the time there and the friendships they had developed. But the law knew that the Jordan's were sympathetic to them and the boys just didn't want to bring more trouble down on the family that had come to mean so much to them. So they had stayed away.

But now, running into Jesse so unexpectedly, and him being so adamant that they come visit, well, the boys just couldn't refuse. That morning, standing outside the Livery getting their horses ready for travel, they could both feel the growing excitement and anticipation of a long over-due homecoming.

It took a number of days to ride to the Jordan ranch and in that time Heyes noticed that Karma-Lou was becoming more and more irritable. Instead of just moving along at a smooth ground covering jog-trot, she insisted on prancing around, swishing her tail and tossing her head while constantly playing with her bit. All of which made for a rather uncomfortable ride. She had also taken to laying back her ears and taking a swipe with her teeth at ole Buck. Buck, always the gentleman, had done his best to avoid these unprovoked onslaughts, but when Karma had actually squealed and tried to swing her hindquarters around to kick the kind-hearted fellow, Curry laid in a protest.

"Heyes! Come on!"

"I know." Heyes answered sheepishly. He had felt the mare move her hindquarters and he had instantly blocked her with his leg to prevent her from getting in that kick. "Cut her some slack Kid, she's coming into season and you know what she's like when that happens."

"Yeah, I can't help but know can I? And poor Buck has lost more hair to her teeth than he sheds out every spring."

"Well, she's just a little testy."

"A little testy?!" Exclaimed the Kid. "For her 'a little testy' is kicking down the stable door, heading for the nearest farm, jumping their fence and spending the night eating their corn!"

"She only did that twice." Reasoned Heyes, "And the farmers were quite reasonable about it once I paid them off."

" I donno Heyes," said Kid while he shook his head, "I know she's saved your skin more than once with that untying knots trick and on her good days she really is something to behold. But I got to admit there are times I just want to shoot her."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah, but you love her." He never had and never would admit to the Kid that he had come close to doing just that himself.

Kid snorted. "Just keep her out of kicking range will ya? With my luck she'd probably miss Buck and kick me. That's all I need is a broken leg because of some 'testy' mare….." Kid's mumblings trailed off into his own thoughts.

Heyes just smiled.

Once having crossed the border from Wyoming into Colorado the boys had relaxed some but were still careful to stay away from the larger towns. The Jordan ranch was within a few days' ride of Denver, but since that town was the home base for a couple of noted detective agencies they stayed clear of it. They easily found lodgings in smaller towns until they were finally able to make the last leg of their ride out to the ranch.

The approach to the Double J ranch was quite the opposite of what it had been that day four years ago when they had fortuitously crossed path with Belle Jordan. The landscape leading onto that ranch had been dry and bleak with very little green grazing available for livestock. The ranch house itself, though neat and clean had obviously seen better days with a 'For Sale' sign that looked as old and worn out as the rest of the property had been.

This new place was green and lush. White fenced pastures lined the well kept road that led up to an open yard and a friendly two storey ranch house with a wrap around porch and flower beds hugging the front of the structure. There were two large barns with paddocks leading off them, a bunk house and a large, well kept vegetable garden off to the side. When all was said and done it was an impressive package but not so much as to be intimidating and as the boys rode down that nicely shaded roadway towards the house they couldn't help but smile and feel relaxed and welcomed.

As the boys approached the front of the house a large tan coloured dog of mixed lineage padded around the side of the structure and woofed lazily at them, tail wagging. Then two hairy tornados scrambled around from behind, yapping their heads off and causing such a commotion that Karma stopped in her tracks, pinned her ears on them and started blowing. Buck, who was more experienced than his counterpart sent them a glance and then dismissed them. Heyes gave his mare a reassuring pat and dismounted. Kid was following suite when the front door of the house burst open and two more tornados is skirts came flying down the steps towards them.

"Joshua! Thaddeus! We've been waiting for you! We thought you'd never get here!"

"Wow! Girls, look at you!" Exclaimed Heyes as excited female teenagers tackled them both with hugs and kisses and a stream of questions.

The dogs were underfoot now, yapping and woofing and wanting to be a part of the festivities. Both Buck and Karma backed up a step or two, not sure they wanted to be a part of anything.

"My but you girls have grown up!" Observed Curry. "You're turning into real nice young ladies!"

"We still ride and shoot!" Protested sixteen year old Beth. "We only wear dresses because Momma insisted on it when we're not helping Papa with the stock!"

"I don't mind wearing dresses." Announced Bridget. "There's nothing wrong with being a lady and wearing dresses!"

Heyes and Curry exchanged glances and smiled.

"Girls, girls! Let the fellas breath."

"Hey, Jesse! How are ya?" Said Heyes as they shook hands

"This is a real nice place you got here." Said Kid. "A real step up from the last one."

"Yup, and I got you boys to thank for it."

"That's what you said before." Said Heyes with a suspicious smile. "I think there's a story to be told here."

"Sure is." Jesse agreed. "Why don't you come on in and relax. Belle is putting together a real nice lunch for us and we can get caught up on all the news." He waved over at his hired hand who was just coming out of one of the barns. "Hey Sam, take these fella's horses and get them settled in will you?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Jordan." Replied Sam, smiling as he approached to take the horses off their hands. "That's a real nice looken mare you got there mister."

Heyes smiled. Curry rolled his eyes. "Geesh."

While Sam, the horses and the dogs all made their way towards one of the barns, everyone else made their way up the porch and into the house. The atmosphere was bright and airy with a comfortable sitting room to the right and a large dinning area to the left and from the sounds and enticing aromas it could be assumed that the kitchen was straight ahead. The table to the left of them was already laid out for a lunch and the boys were just thinking about how hungry they were—again, when Belle appeared in the hallway.

Both young men lit up with pleasure upon seeing this kind woman they had come to feel such a bond with. There was something different about her, something subtle that neither man could quite put their finger on, but whatever it was, it was a good thing as she looked happy and welcoming.

"Oh boys." She smiled warmly at them. "Look at you, you've hardly changed a bit!"

"Hello Belle." Both men took turns giving her a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. It really was good to see her.

"Now you sit down." Belle told them. "Girls, come help me. We have coffee, or lemonade and a real nice lunch ready."

"Great." Said Heyes

"Yup." Agreed Kid, "Been really looking forward to this."

Everyone was enjoying the spread that had been laid for lunch while Jesse was relating the surprising turn of events that had enabled them to purchase such a nice piece of property.

"Well, that's the long and short of it boys," he was saying. "We were quite prepared to get re-established with the money that you had left for us that night when all of a sudden the bidding war started. It seems that two fairly wealthy gentlemen from back east had rather romanticized impressions of the "wild west" and wanted to buy a little bit of it. So when word got around that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had been captured on our old place well they were just tripping over each other to see who could offer us the highest price."

Both Heyes and Curry were staring at Jesse with mouths open in disbelief. Kid even had a piece of pastry hovering half way to his mouth while they both tried to take in this information.

Heyes was the first to recover: "But, we escaped." He reasoned. "It's not like it was 'The Place' where Heyes and Curry were finally 'Brought to Justice'. We're still at large to carry on with our thieving ways."

Jesse shrugged and smiled. "I know. I thought they were crazy, but the price we finally got for that patch of dirt has set us up very nicely. We moved to Denver and I got a job teaching, but as it turns out none of us were really happy there."

"That's for sure." Agreed Belle. "I missed hearing the birds in the mornings and the quiet afternoons out on the porch. Living in town had its advantages, but I think we all missed the open spaces."

"So, when this place came up for sale." Continued Jesse, "We decided that if I continued to teach part time at the small school here we could afford to hire some help and maybe just make a go of it. Goodness knows the girls were ecstatic over the idea!"

"I missed riding and shooting." Commented Beth. "None of the other girls in town were interested in that. They were more concerned with boys and gossiping. And Papa says that my numbers are good enough that I can start helping out with the business end of things here on the ranch."

"Well now that's real promising Beth." Commented Curry obviously impressed. "Joshua and I have come across a few ladies who ran their own businesses and did real well with them."

Beth brightened up visibly. "Really!?" She exclaimed. "The other girls in town just laugh at me and say that it's not proper for a girl to want to go into business. That I should get married and have a family." This last part stated with a sneer.

"Oh well, no reason you can't do both." Began Heyes "Why some of the ladies we know…." Then his voice trailed off and he glanced over at Jesse and Belle, the thought occurring to him that he might be overstepping the boundaries here.

Belle smiled. "That's alright Joshua," She said. "Jesse and I have always encouraged the girls to go after what they wanted and not be too concerned about what other people thought." Then she looked at her daughters pointedly and added; "You can be ladies and still pursue your interests as well. Although," She added thoughtfully, "It might be difficult managing both a career and a family. You might have to make some tough choices girls."

The girls didn't seem too concerned about tough choices at the moment.

"What do your lady friends do in their businesses?" Asked Beth.

"Well, let's see…" Began Heyes. He thought of Jenny, but a woman who ran her own saloon and gambling hall didn't really seem appropriate for this group.

"There's Alice." Suggested the Kid.

"That's right." Agreed Heyes, thankful to the Kid for having come up with a more appropriate example. "Now Alice had a great sense for money and business. She, ahhh came into some funds and was all set to start up an establishment where people could go and have a nice dinner and watch theatre at the same time."

"Really?" Asked Belle. "What an unusual concept. Was she able to do it?"

"As a matter of fact she did." Said Heyes. "She met a young German fellow named Kurt who just happened to be an excellent cook…"

"A man who's a cook!?" Exclaimed Beth. "Whoever heard of such a thing!"

"Well now there's the pot calling the kettle black." Pointed out Belle. "Just a few minutes ago you were complaining that people put you down for wanting to do something different with your life, now here you are doing the same thing."

Beth hung her head, looking sheepish. "Yes Momma."

"Yup." Said Curry. "They made a good pair. With his cooking skills and Alice's head for business they were able to put together a real nice place."

"Then there's Georgette." Mused Heyes. "But she's more into the entertainment line of work." He caught Jesse's eye and they both smiled.

"Of course there's Clementine." Added Curry. "We've known her for years and she never did get married."

"Nope." Agreed Heyes. "Came close a couple of times though."

"Yup, real close." Both men smiled at the thought of Clem.

"Then there's Meg Parker who really turned out to be Margaret Carruthers." Continued Heyes, who was leaning back and smiling in memory of all these lovely ladies. "And of course, Miss Porter who was into banking."

"And we're never going to forget Abigail." Said Kid and then instantly regretted it as Heyes' expression suddenly became somber and he was no longer smiling.

Belle also noticed the change in Heyes' countenance and knitted her brow. "Was she someone special?"

"Ahhh, well yeah you could say that." Answered Curry hesitantly, not quite sure where to go with this now. His eyes were on his partner looking for some indication, but Heyes just sat quietly, looking at the table, deep in his own thoughts. Curry decided that the damage was already done, so may as well go for broke.

"Abigail was a detective for Pinkerton's and we ended up locking horns with her on more than one occasion while we were still in our previous line of work you might say."

Bridget, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout most of this conversation, suddenly perked up with interest. "She was a detective-with Pinkerton's?!"

"Ah, yup." Curry confirmed, still a little uncomfortable with the subject knowing he had probably cut Heyes to the quick. "A real bright and gutsy lady too." Curry smiled at some of the memories that came flooding back "I tell you, there were times she had us so riled up we were both fit to be tied. But she had class that's for sure."

Belle smiled while watching Heyes. "I have a feeling she did more to Joshua than just get him riled."

At this point Heyes looked up from his musings and he and Belle locked gazes for a moment and then he smiled. She knew.

Bridget however was totally unaware of the underlying drama being played out around her and was focused only on the one thing that had caught her interest.

"She is actually a detective?!" Bridget repeated. "And you know her?! Can I meet her? Do you think she would talk to me? Do you think she would tell me how to become a detective?"

"Whoa, hold on there!" Exclaimed Kid. "I thought you liked 'being a lady'?"

"Well I do!" countered Bridget, her eyes shining. "But we've just been saying that a person can be a lady and follow her dreams as well!"

"And it's your dream to become a detective?" Asked Heyes.

"Oh brother." Jesse and Belle rolled their eyes at each other. "You have no idea." Continued Jesse. "Any detective books she can get hold of, anything to do with the law and the justice system, Bridget's right in there."

"We know she would like to go back East to study law if we can find a Lady's Collage that will teach it." Said Belle. "But again, the attitude is that Law is a profession exclusively for men so it's been difficult."

"Well getting into law is one thing." Said Curry. "But becoming a detective, that can be a dangerous line of work Bridget, dealing with all sorts of unsavory individuals. It's kind of like being an outlaw, the flip side of the same coin you might say. Once you get locked into that kind of life it's very difficult to break away from it again. You might find that it's not quite as glamorous as you think."

"Yeah I know." Said Bridget, not willing to be deterred. "But if you know a woman who is already a detective, it can't be that dangerous, " Heyes rolled his eyes at Bridget's naivety, "and maybe she could help get me going in the right direction. Can you get a hold of her?"

Heyes and Kid exchanged glances. "Ahhh." They were both very hesitant.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Commented Kid

Bridget looked crestfallen.

"You have to understand Bridget." Explained Heyes. "Thaddeus and I are still wanted, we can't just 'get in touch' with a Pinkerton detective and not expect some dire consequences to come of it."

"Oh yeah, I forgot." She still looked crestfallen.

And then it happened. That silent communication which takes place within seconds between two people who have known one another so well and for so long that words weren't necessary. Just a glance between the partners and a whole conversation had taken place.

Jesse and Belle exchanged looks and smiled. The girls were oblivious.

"There might be someone we could get in touch with." Offered Heyes, though he was hesitant about it.

"Yeah," Continued Curry. "Someone in the Bannerman Agency."

"Really?" Bridget perked up again.

An exchange of glances again and then a shrugging of shoulders.

"His name's Harry Briscoe." Stated Heyes. "He's not exactly the best in his field, but oddly enough, he is a friend and we do have a way of letting him know we want to see him without causing a stir. He might be willing to give you a hand in getting started."

"Oh that would be great!"

"You boys have a friend in the Bannerman Detective Agency?" Asked Jesse somewhat incredulous.

"Yeah, well," Said Curry. "We kind of helped him out of a scrape once…"

"Or twice."

"So he's kind of willing to help us out once in a while."

"As long as it doesn't threaten his career." Commented Heyes.

"Or call for much thinking."

"Or courage."

"Or imagination,"

Belle smiled. "Sounds like just the man we need."

Just then a quiet, just barely audible sound came from a back room off the kitchen. All heads swiveled that way.

"Oh, sounds like someone's awake." Announced Belle and she quickly got up and left the table. Both Heyes and Curry sent a questioning gaze towards Jesse, but he just smiled.

"You boys like some more coffee?" He asked.

"Ah, sure."

"I'll get it." Said Bridget and she got up and headed for the kitchen just as Belle returned carrying a small cooing bundle wrapped in a blanket.

Both boys were instantly on their feet and gazing down at the infant in Belle's arms

"Oh my…"

"Ohho, Jesse!" exclaimed the Kid. "You said you had a surprise, but we certainly didn't expect this!"

"No, neither did we." Said Belle with a smile. "Here we thought we were all done with child rearing and then all of a sudden this little fella shows up."

"How old is he?" Asked Kid.

"Just about six weeks." Answered Belle. "Here Thaddeus, why don't you hold him."

"Ahhh.."

"Yeah, come on Thaddeus," Said Heyes with a smile. "Puppies and kittens just love you so you shouldn't have any trouble with a baby."

Jed sent his partner another one of those looks while he was being shuffled back into his chair and the blanketed bundle settled into his nervous arms. Heyes sat back down in his chair but was still leaning over the Kid's shoulder looking at the baby and grinning from dimple to dimple. Bridget returned with the coffee pot and began filling cups all around then she settled back into her chair and began nibbling on some pastry. Beth was watching Jed intently, thoughts of going into business suddenly on the back burner of her desires.

"What's his name?" Heyes asked as he continued to smile down at the infant.

"Jesse Jr." Answered Belle, "Or J.J. for short, or just Jay."

Heyes smiled over at Jesse and Belle as he settled back in his chair again. "He sure is a fine looking boy. Congratulations."

The proud parents smiled and then passed a loving look between themselves. Then all eyes were on Jed. He had relaxed as soon as he realized that the baby wasn't likely to break in his arms and then a huge smile broke over his face and there it stayed. Jesse suddenly had a vision of a small boy at Christmas time finally getting the present he had always wanted. It took him by surprise. Belle on the other hand had been no fool in handing the infant to Jed. With all the stories she had heard over the years about the notorious Devil's Hole Gang and its infamous outlaw leaders, once she had met the men themselves, she knew that they were nothing like the tabloids made them out to be. Made some bad choices, yes, and got themselves onto the wrong side of things, definitely, but they were working hard at trying to turn their lives around and were both basically good men. But especially in Jed Curry she sensed a gentle and caring soul which was in drastic conflict with his reputation as a dangerous gunslinger and cold-blooded killer. She wasn't quite sure how to reconcile these two very different versions of the same man but she trusted her own instincts and she had no qualms about handing her infant son over to him.

In the meantime, Beth continued to watch Thaddeus with bright eyes that were taking in everything. A quiet, knowing smile played about her lips. If Kid had had more experience with teenage emotions he would have taken note of that look and quickly make his departure to parts unknown. As it was, he was so intent on this new little human being in his arms that he was totally oblivious to all the other thoughts swirling on around him. It seemed that JJ was also quite interested in this new person in his small world. Bright blue eyes locked onto bright blue eyes and little hands tapped against a lowered chin and played with smiling lips. Then suddenly that same little hand clasped tightly onto a finger and a huge yawn escaped from the tiny mouth. Curry laughed.

"Aww, Heyes! One day, maybe huh?"

Heyes smiled over at his friend. Visions of them being able to put all this running behind them and settling down to families of their own were not far from his own thoughts at that moment.

"I know Kid. Maybe, one day."

Beth's smile grew even broader.

The extended lunch had finally been cleared away. Belle had excused herself from the gathering and retreated with JJ into the day nursery in order to feed him and put him down for another nap. The girls were busy cleaning up in the kitchen and arguing over who was going to wash and who was going to dry. Thoughts of supper were the last thing in anyone's mind at that point and the three men were contemplating moving out onto the porch to enjoy a drink in the fading afternoon light. Then, quite suddenly the serenity of the moment was completely shattered by loud raucous horse squeals, the splintering of wood and Sam yelling obscenities from across the barnyard.

Curry sent a suspicious look over in his cousin's direction. "Heyes…?"

Heyes shrugged innocently and all three men headed out the front door and down the porch steps. Across the yard, in the paddock where the horses had been put to enjoy their own lunch, Karma-Lou was in the middle of a temper tantrum. Ears flattened against her neck, mouth gaping open and emitting more angry guttural squeals, she had poor Buck pinned into the corner of the paddock and, with her hind feet, was reigning vicious kicks upon that kindly soul as though he were the knackerman himself come to claim her!

Fortunately most of the kicks had missed their mark, but she had succeeded in hitting the fence a few times and splintering the wood and knocking s few boards down. Buck was doing everything he could to avoid the onslaught and scramble out of her line of fire and Sam, having grabbed a driving whip had jumped what was left of the fence and was yelling and cracking that whip in order to move the mare away. To add to the ruckus, the three dogs who had been quiet all afternoon were now right in the thick of things barking and yapping and woofing and generally getting under foot.

"Dag nammit Heyes!" Yelled kid as they both ran forward to assist Sam in separating the horses.

"Well I told yea she was a little testy!" Countered Heyes. "Buck must have said something rude to her."

Curry sent him a nasty glare as they grabbed halters and lead shanks and proceeded to get their horses under control.

Once Heyes had Karma in hand he lead her to the far end of the paddock and kept her walking around in a small circle to calm her down while Kid gently ran his hands over his gelding to make sure he was alright.

"What set them off?" Asked Jesse of his hired hand.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jordan." Answered Sam. "I guess I just wasn't thinking. It never occurred to me that she might be in season. I was just bringing JohnnyBoy in for the night when that mare started acting up. Of course JohnnyBoy was getting all hot and bothered so I had to quick get him into his stall before he killed me and then I hear all hell break loose out here. I got out here as quick as I could. Again, I'm sure sorry about that."

Just then a deep stallion sized bellow came from inside the barn. Karma's head went up and she answered with a loud shrill whinny that caused her whole body to vibrate and Heyes to grimace in pain.

"Well don't worry about it." Said Jesse. "You better get in there and tend to that stallion. We'll get the fence fixed in the morning."

"Yes sir." And Sam disappeared into the barn. The three dogs, who were apparently quite proud of themselves for having gotten things under control happily followed the young man back into the building, content in the knowledge that they had done their job."

Jesse smiled at the two young men, each in their respective corners attempting to sooth their respective horses.

"Well that was quite a show." He commented.

"Yeah. Sorry about that Jesse." Heyes apologized somewhat sheepishly. "She can be quite a handful sometimes. We'll be happy to fix the fence in the morning for you. It's the least we can do."

Quiet grumblings came from Curry's general location.

"Oh, don't worry about it Joshua." Said Jesse. "Sam's a great hand with the livestock and the dogs just love him to pieces but he is young and sometimes just doesn't think. He was wanting to get into town tomorrow morning to see his girlfriend so having to hold off on that to fix the fence will be a good reminder for him. When you're handling a stallion you always have to be aware of what's around you, or you'll get yourself into trouble. A couple of hours delay won't kill him." Then he glanced over at Curry. "How's your gelding Thaddeus?"

Curry glanced over from where he had been rubbing Buck's ears and speaking quietly to him. Buck was responding with half closed eyes and a quivering upper lip. "I think he's fine. He might be a little sore tomorrow but that's all."

"Well, an excuse for you fellas to stay over another day! Why don't you take them over to the other barn and get them settled in for the night. In the meantime I'll get us some drinks to have on the porch. I think after this we could all use one."

The boys carefully lead their horses over the one plank that was still nailed up and cautiously picked their way through the litter of splintered wood that had once been part of a rather sturdy paddock. Leading the horses into the barn they found themselves in a large sturdy structure with eight box stalls and a large well supplied tack room. There were six other horses already occupying stalls, and though they were busy munching dinner they were certainly interested in who these newcomers were. Though a couple of them laid their ears back in a 'Don't think you're touching my dinner!' kind of attitude a couple of the kinder souls perked their ears and nickered a welcome. Two empty stalls across the isle from each other presented themselves and the boys lead their horses into them and found that water, grain and good rich hay had already been supplied. Heyes gave Karma a final pat on the neck and then left her stall, closing the door behind him and then leaning back against it with his arms folded, watching the Kid. The barn was light and airy and smelled of fresh straw and sweet hay, the only sounds being that of the small birds settling into their nests up in the rafters and of the horses munching their grain and giving the occasional contented snort or stamp of a foot. Normally this setting would have been a comfortable and relaxed one, but this time it felt strained and heavy. Kid was still in the stall with Buck, stroking him and speaking quietly with him.

"Kid?" No response. Heyes sighed. "Come on Kid. I know you're mad at me."

"Yeah, I am." Curry answered quietly while he continued to stroke his horse and nor did he turn to meet Heyes' eyes. "Or maybe just more scared." He continued. "Sacred that Buck mighta got real hurt."

Heyes sighed again and lowered his head a little. He didn't know what else he could say.

Then Curry brightened and he straightened up. "Just give me some time and a good shot of whiskey." He said as he gave Buck one more pat and left the stall. "I'm sure I'll get over it."

Heyes grinned over at his partner, relieved. Heyes was fonder of this mare than he had ever been of any other horse before, but the friendship of Jed Curry mattered more to him than anything else possibly could. Though still feeling a little moody Curry returned the smile and they both headed out of the barn and over to the porch where Jesse was waiting with the afore mentioned drinks.

Next morning everyone was up bright and early Sam had been quick to get JohnnyBoy out onto his pasture with his group of brood mares, and then, making sure to keep the two different groups of horses separated had turned Karma-Lou and Buck loose into one of the other smaller grass paddocks where they could spend the day grazing and basking in the warm spring sunshine. Then he set about fixing the broken planks of the paddock fence.

Curry, taking whatever opportunity that might arise to stay finely tuned, had set up some tin cans by the far barn and was doing some target shooting. Beth was standing to the side and a little bit behind him, watching in amazement. When, yet again all the cans had jumped wildly off the fence in rapid succession, Beth went out and helped Kid collect them up and place them back in position for another beating.

"You want to have a shooting contest?" Curry asked her with a smile, remembering back to their first meeting.

Beth smiled back at him with sparkling eyes. "No way." She answered. "I can't imagine how we ever thought we could out-shoot you!"

"Well, you didn't know who you were up against." Reasoned Curry. "Part of playing the game is knowing who your opponent is."

"I'll try not to make that mistake twice."

Curry smiled. "Good." A flash of movement, six near instantaneous cracks from the revolver and the six cans met their maker.

Heyes was standing on the front porch leaning against the main post by the steps. He was watching Curry practice, a small smile fluttering about his lips. It didn't matter how many times he watching the Kid shoot, it still amazed him. Belle came out, holding JJ and stood beside Heyes, watching the target practice.

"He really is fast isn't he?" Belle commented. "That's definitely one thing the tabloids say about him that's true."

Heyes' smile broadened. "Yup, he is fast. Fastest I've ever seen. And he's just playing now, just wait until he's really serious."

Belle's jaw dropped and she stared at Heyes incredulously. "He's faster than this? Now that would really be something to see."

"Well that's the problem." Said Heyes, and he tweaked his eyebrows at her. "When he's serious, you don't see it."

Just then Bridget appeared on the porch and summoned everyone for breakfast.

Later than morning Sam had finished mending the fence and had hitched up the wagon to head into Brookswood. Jesse figured that since he was going into town anyways, he may as well pick up some supplies and save them from having to go in again later in the week.

It wasn't a long drive into town, a little over an hour at most at a steady jog-trot. However, Sam was in a bit of a hurry and as soon as he was out of sight of the ranch house he pushed the horses into a hand gallop and kept them at that pace all the way to the outskirts of town. He did have enough common sense to pull the horses back down to a reasonable trot when approaching the main street, but there was still a sense of urgency about him and the horses were tossing their heads and fighting the bits in response to it.

Sam kept the horses going past the small family homes that lined the street on the way into town, including the home of his apparent girlfriend, and carried on into the commercial area fully intent on his business. But he kept on going past the mercantile store, past the feed store and even past the saloon and kept on going until he finally pulled the horses up next to the telegraph office.

He hopped down from the wagon, tied the horses to the hitching rail and went inside.

"Well, morning there Sam."

"Howdy Clayt."

"You wanting to send another telegram are you?"

"Yes I am."

"Well, here you go."Said Clayt as he handed Sam a pencil and paper. "That sure must be an important job you're waiting on."

"Yes it is Clayt, real important." Sam answered with a smile as he took the items and went over to the table to compose his message.

It was short and to the point, not wanting to waste money on unnecessary words: TO SHERIFF MORRISON, MURREYVILLE, WYOMING.

CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE. ADVISE. S.J.

TO BE CONTINUED.

* Note; I did ask for and receive permission from Silverkelpie to mention her character "Abigail" in this story. For any of you who might have been wondering.


	2. Chapter 2

TWIST OF FATE

Chapter 2: Opportunities

Sam Jefferies was eight years old the day his father died His family lived in a quaint little house in a quaint little town close to the Wyoming-Montana border. His father had been the Sheriff in that town. Sammy, with his mother and father had basked in the glow of friendship and respectability that had been theirs mainly due to his father's firm but fair interpretation of his duties. Thomas Jefferies was indeed an honourable man and the residents of Quesnal Wyoming could not have asked for a better.

But then the unthinkable had happened. It had been a cold clear autumn day with just a small dusting of snow on the ground when a group of innocent looking men had quietly ridden into town and then brazenly robbed the small bank of $800.00. The outlaws would have been quite content to quietly ride out of town just as they had ridden in, but the assistant manager of the bank had different ideas and as the group of men had started on their way Mr. Jackson had come running out of the bank hollering and yelling and attracting the attention of everyone within earshot. The outlaws, true to their nature had kicked their horses into a gallop and headed for the outskirts of town by the shortest possible route.

Of course Sheriff Jefferies had become alerted by all the commotion. Responding to his call of duty he had hurried out into the street to assess the situation and was promptly mowed down and trampled into the hard ground by the pounding hooves of the stampeding horses.

The town had gone into shock. No one could quite believe that such a terrible thing had happened—not in their town! Sam and his mother were devastated Mary Jefferies was so grief-stricken at the loss of her husband that she became house bound and partially bedridden in her despair. Sam tried his best to tend to his mother, but he was much too young for that responsibility and it fell to their kind and supportive neighbours to tend to the young widow and her child.

In time the town recovered and carried on. A new Sheriff was appointed and he was a fine upstanding gentleman in his own right. Merle Jefferies also gradually got back on her feet and with the small pension she received as the widow of a law officer killed in the line of duty she was able to stay in their small home and raise her son. The outlaws were never captured, the money never returned and the death of a good man never vindicated

Sam Jefferies grew up with a mission burned into his heart and soul: That good honest folks should be able to live their lives and raise their families without having to fear being assaulted in their own homes. They should be able to work hard and be prosperous without fear of loosing their savings to thieves and con men. Indeed, by the time Sam had grown into his twenties he was determined to do everything within his power to see that every man who rode the outlaw trail would pay for the misery they had caused and that justice would be prevailed upon them.

So it was, when Sam came into his twenty-fifth year that the Wyoming Sheriff's Department had offered Thomas Jefferies' son the very opportunity he had been seeking to carry out his mission. The job was given to him to become friendly with the Jordan family, to become their employee and to gain their trust and possibly even their friendship then, simply to wait. Sheriff Morrison was certain that sooner or later those two most notorious of outlaws, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry would come calling. And when they did all Sam had to do was send a telegram and then sit tight.

Well Sam had done just that. While in town, waiting for the reply to his message Sam had carried on with his errands just as would be expected. He stocked up on the supplies that Mr. Jordan had requested and even went to spend some time with his convenient girl friend in order not to arouse any suspicions. When the expected telegram finally arrived it congratulated Sam on his good work and instructed him to carry on as he had been, just watching and listening. But also, if the need arose, to do whatever he had to do to keep the outlaws from leaving, that in itself was the most important task of all.

Driving back to the Double J Ranch that afternoon Sam felt a slight sense of guilt over his duplicity with the Jordan family. They seemed to be solid, hard working people and they had always treated him fairly and with respect. Not to mention the eldest daughter, Bridget was a fine looking young woman and Sam immensely enjoyed watching her figure walking away.

Still, they were friends with outlaws, even to the point of harbouring them from the law and that just was not acceptable. Sam was determined to see Heyes and Curry brought to justice and so he hardened his heart and stayed focused on his goals and he became just as smooth a liar and con man as the criminals he sought to bring down.

As the morning and afternoon wore on Heyes and Kid were enjoying the opportunity of doing absolutely nothing. Jessie spent most of the afternoon in his study getting lessons ready for the class he was to teach the next morning. Belle spent most of the time preparing meals and tending to the baby while the girls alternated between helping their mother and visiting with their guests out on the porch.

It was another warm sunny afternoon and Curry was taking full advantage of it. He was leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the porch railing and his hat pulled down over his eyes, apparently sound asleep. The three dogs were also taking advantage of the lazy day and were stretched out in various shady spots along the porch and Beth had gone inside to help her mother tend to Jay. Heyes decided that now was as good a time as any to ask Bridget to join him for a walk about the property. She was, of course, quite happy to accompany him.

"Where would you like to go first Joshua?" She had asked him as they walked across the yard, the two smaller dogs, not wanting to miss an opportunity for a walk jumped up to join them. Rufus, being an older gentleman decided to keep Kid company. "I could show you the creek where we go fishing, or we could saddle up a couple of horses and I could show you the new foals and calves up on the north pasture."

"Well actually Bridget, I just wanted us to go for a walk and have a talk." Heyes admitted. Then he smiled and offered her his arm, which she gladly albeit suspiciously accepted.

"Talk about what?" she asked with a sideways glance up at him.

"Well," he began with a sigh, "I've been thinking about the conversation yesterday about your choice of careers and I admit I'm a little concerned about it."

Bridget became defensive, "But Momma and Papa are supportive of it, and you said you would introduce me to your friend…!"

"I know, I know. And I will." Heyes assured her. "But I just want to make sure you understand what you could be getting yourself into."

"Oh I know." Bridget answered him flippantly, "It's dangerous. I would be associating with the criminal element. It's no job for a woman…"

Heyes remained serious. "Yes, to all of the above."

"But you know a woman who does it, you said so!" Bridget was once more becoming defensive.

He sighed again, knowing he was treading on treacherous ground here. He did not want to come across as preachy or condescending, but he still strongly felt the need to impress upon her the seriousness of her choice.

"In order to be a successful undercover detective you have to be able to look a person straight in the eye and lie to them. You have to, in all sense and purposes become what they are in order to fit into their lives and be convincing. In fact you have to be worse than the people you're trying to bring down just in order to stay alive. Now do you think you would be willing to do that?"

"I suppose I might have to do those things Joshua, but it would be for the greater good wouldn't it?" Bridget reasoned. "So wouldn't that make it alright?"

"I've heard law officers, some of them anyways, justify their actions that way." Heyes admitted. "They reason that because they have the law on their side that that condones the deceptions and brutalities they use to apprehend a criminal." Then he smiled ruefully. "I suppose I could be prejudice in this matter, but I don't swallow it. Injustice against another person is just that, whether the man behind the gun is wearing a badge or not."

"But injustice is exactly what I want to stop." Bridget argued. "Take you and Thaddeus for instance. It's not justice at all that the law is still after you after all this time. You have been trying for so long to change your lives around and the law just won't let you. Well I want to get in there and make things better because that's just not right!"

Heyes smiled at her. "Well of course I'm going to agree with you on that. But there are other ways you can fight that battle without putting your own life in jeopardy." Then his expression clouded for a moment and he gently squeezed her hand. "I care about you Bridget and I'd hate to see anything bad happen to you."

It was Bridget's turn to sigh heavily. Why couldn't Joshua understand how important this was to her?

Heyes saw her frustration and decided it was time to change the subject. "What about the young men in your life? And don't tell me that a pretty young lady like you doesn't have any suitors."

Bridget smiled shyly. "Oh yes, there have been some and I have certainly noticed Sam looking my way on occasion And I have to admit it has been fun to tease him a little." But then she smiled broadly and put her other hand on Joshua's arm. "But you know that you're always going to be the first love of my life!"

Heyes laughed. "Oh Bridget, you're really are turning into a little flirt!"

"Oh it's all in fun," She said, patting his arm. "You know that." Then she rolled her eyes. "Not like Beth! It's so embarrassing watching her swooning over…" Then she stopped herself and brought a hand quickly up to her mouth. She blushed brightly.

Heyes smiled down at her. "Swooning over Thaddeus, you were about to say?"

"Oh my goodness!" Bridget was mortified. "I can't believe I said that! Oh, Beth will kill me if she finds out. Oh no, you won't tell him will you? Beth would just be beside herself if he knew how she felt." And then a terrible thought occurred to her. "You don't think he already knows do you?"

"What? Thaddeus?" Asked Heyes incredulously. "Being able to tell when a young lady is sweet on him? I think even Thaddeus will pick up on that sooner or later."

"Oh, now you're teasing me!" Bridget accused him. "Please, don't tell him, okay?"

Heyes smiled and then it was his turn to give her arm a pat. "Don't worry, I won't say a word." Then he took her into his arms in a friendship hug and kissed her on the forehead.

Just then they heard and then saw Sam driving the buckboard into the yard with the supplies. All three dogs changed their plans for the moment and scrambled towards the wagon, full of tail wagging and excited barkings. Sam uncharacteristically ignored the dogs on this occasion because he had noticed the two people at the other end of the yard as soon as he had driven in. It took him unawares and he couldn't prevent the slight scowl that flashed across his face at the sight of that outlaw hugging a decent woman. Heyes smiled at what he took to be a young man's unnecessary jealousy then released Bridget and walked her back to the front porch.

Once there Bridget carried on into the house to help her mother get supper on the table. Heyes walked up beside Jed who was awake now and leaning against the porch post with a far-a-way look in his eyes.

"Whatcha thinking Kid?"

Curry came back to the present and smiled whimsically. "Oh, just how nice it would be to put down roots and stay here and be part of a family again."

"Huh hu." Answered Heyes. "Would be nice wouldn't it?"

"Sure would."

"But you know we can't do that, right?"

"Oh yeah Heyes, I know. Course nothing to prevent us from coming back for a visit now and again."

"That's true." Heyes agreed. "As long as it's not too often."

"No no, not often." Said Curry. "Just on special occasions. Like the fourth of July."

"Huh hu."

"Then there's Thanksgiving."

"Yup."

"Then Christmas, sure would be nice to spend Christmas with a family again."

"Sure would."

"Then, of course there's Easter. Not to mention the girls' birthdays and then we couldn't miss Jay's first birthday, that wouldn't be right."

"No, sure wouldn't".

"And then there's my birthday, not to mention yours. I wonder when Belle's and Jesse's are. Oh, and of course their anniversary!"

"Kid?"

"Yeah."

"I think supper's about ready."

"Ohhh!"

The evening meal was again an unqualified success. Both young men wondered out loud how Belle was able to consistently put together such wonderful meals with all the other things she had to tend to as well. She shrugged off their compliments, but smiled with pleasure all the same.

As everyone was settling into seconds of dessert and another round of coffee, Belle loaded up a tray with a full plate of dinner, dessert and coffee and handed it over to Bridget.

"Here Bridget, take this out to Sam please." She requested of her eldest child. "He got back so late from town I guess he's still out there putting the supplies away. I'm sure he must be quite hungry by now."

"Yes Momma." Bridget answered as she took the tray and headed for the front door. She flashed a smile in Joshua's direction as she went and he smiled back at their private joke. Obviously poor Sam was in for some more teasing.

Belle returned to the kitchen and began the clean-up and since Beth had become busy tending to her young brother, Curry excused himself from the table and joined Belle in the kitchen to help out.

"Oh, Thaddeus. Thank you."

"Well it's the least I can do after the way you folks have made us feel so welcome." He answered. "It's been a real nice break for us, ma'am."

"What's with this "ma'am" stuff?" Belle laughed. "You're family here you know that."

"Yes ma'am…" Kid began, then he stopped himself and laughed. "Sorry, Belle. I guess my folks just taught me to do things a certain way and some of that learning went pretty deep."

Belle stopped what she was doing and smiled up at the soft-spoken, handsome young man. Again, she found herself in conflict over what she felt for the person she had come to know and the outlaw she had heard so many bad things about.

"Your folks would be very proud of you Thaddeus." She finally stated. "You're a fine young man—and don't you let anyone tell you any different."

Curry smiled broadly "No ma'am—ah Belle. I surely won't."

At this point Beth came into the kitchen trying to hold onto a grumpy squiggly little wiggley worm named Jesse Jr. His older sister looked totally frustrated.

"Momma, I can't get him to settle." She whined. "He always goes down right away for you, what's the matter with him?"

Belle turned from the dishes and began to dry her hands. "Well," she answered. "Did you go over the list the way we discussed?"

Beth rolled her eyes "Yes!" And then her focus changed as she fought to hold onto her baby brother while he twisted and turned and screamed his protests. "What do I do with him? He won't listen to reason! Tending to babies is a lot harder than it looks!"

Belle smiled through her son's screaming and in her quiet, calm manner she took control of the situation.

"He's been fed."

"Yes"

"You've changed his nappy?"

"Yes"

"He's all clean and dry, not cold?"

"Yes!" Beth was getting frustrated again. "I did all that!"

"What else is on that list that you're supposed to do before you put him down after he's eaten?"

"I don't know!"

Belle sighed. A mother's job is never done.

"Have you burped him?" She asked.

"Oh." Beth's response said it all. "No."

Belle smiled.

"I think that's the next thing you should try."

"Yes Momma." Beth looked totally dejected. "I am never going to get the hang of this! How did you manage it with two?"

"Just don't worry about it." Her mother suggested. "It'll come in time."

Jed, who had been leaning against the counter and watching this exchange with a certain amount of detached humour finally made a comment.

"Just think of it as an opportunity for practice Beth." He said to her. "Then by the time you have your own family you'll be a real pro."

Beth instantly beamed with pleasure and hoisting her brother up onto her shoulder headed back into the nursery to continue with her practicing.

Belle turned back to Thaddeus with a large smile on her face. Thaddeus himself had closed his eyes and grimaced as soon as the words had left his mouth.

"I think I should have just kept quiet." He mumbled. "I know I just said completely the wrong thing."

"I think you just made Beth's day."

"Ohh no. I'm going to have Jesse after me with a shotgun pretty soon if I'm not careful."

Belle laughed and gave him a pat on the arm.

"Don't worry about it Thaddeus." She assured him. "We've all had to suffer through teenage crushes and most of us survive them. Give her time, she'll get over it."

"I sure hope so." He answered, then thinking that he might be giving the wrong impression he quickly started to back step. "Not that Beth wouldn't make some fella a fine wife! I just think she could do a lot better than an old ex-outlaw for a husband."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Belle said with another smile and then headed into the dinning room with the coffee pot, ready to sit down and have a cup herself.

Curry leaned back against the counter again and sighed heavily as he ran his hands over his face and through his curls. He knew Belle was just teasing him but this was a balancing act he was not used to playing. Then he pushed himself away from the counter and headed towards the other room to join the rest of the "adults".

After Belle and Jed had left to go clean up Jesse and Heyes found themselves sitting at the table on their own. Both of them were relaxed and enjoying a second cup of coffee.

"You sure you have to leave tomorrow Joshua?" Jesse asked. "Me and Beth have to go to school in the morning, but Bridget and Belle will be here and you know you and Thaddeus are always welcome."

"Yeah, I know Jesse." Heyes answered him. "It's been real nice visiting with you folks again," then he smiled, "and I know Thaddeus would like to stay a while longer, but we can't stay in one spot too long you know that."

"Yeah, I guess I do." Jesse admitted. "It must be real hard on you fellas having to stay on the move like that all the time. It must get lonely."

Heyes nodded agreement. "Hmmm, yeah it does." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "We keep hoping that it won't be for much longer, but, I don't know Jesse." He paused and sighed again. "It seems that each year just keeps flowing into the next and we don't get any closer to the amnesty. It feels like the Governor is just playing games with us."

"What else can you do?"

Heyes shrugged. "I donno. Just keep trying I guess. We do have friends with some clout who are putting pressure on the powers that be but in the mean time, every day is a risk. Every day without the amnesty is one more day that could be our last. We could end up in prison for twenty years—or worse." Then he smiled ruefully. "If there is anything worse than twenty years in prison."

Jesse knitted his brow and then leaned across the table towards Heyes as though getting in closer proximity to the young man would give his words more impact.

"Listen to me Joshua." He said. "At least in prison you still have life, and as long as you have life there is hope. You just said yourself that there are people out here who care about you and Thaddeus and who know about the deal the Governor made with you. We will not just sit back and forget about you, do you understand? If you find yourself with a choice to make, do not chose death over prison. Do you hear me?"

Heyes felt a chill go through him. He suddenly felt like a small child again being reprimanded by his father for some selfish word, and yet at the same time his respect and affection for this older man grew ten fold. He swallowed down his emotion and smiled a little shamefacedly

"Yeah Jesse, I hear you. Thanks."

"Good. Now would you like a shot of whiskey in your next cup of coffee?"

Out in the barn, Bridget had just walked in to the dusty structure with the tray of food.

She could hear Sam in the feed room stacking up the sacks of grain so she set the tray of food down on one of the hay bales then promptly sat down beside it and waited for Sam to finish what he was doing. The three dogs, instantly picking up the scent of food were suddenly all attentive, the two smaller ones, Peanut and Pebbles even went so far as to jump up on the hay bale beside their young mistress and did their best to look cute.

Then Sam came out of the feed room. He had taken his shirt off and was sweating with the exertion. He saw Bridget sitting there and was suddenly quite embarrassed.

"Oh! Miss Bridget." He stammered, and quickly moved over to where he had hung his shirt and pulled it on over his head.

Bridget smiled shyly, but in reality she rather enjoyed the view and was sorry he had been so quick to cover it up.

"Momma thought you would be hungry by now so she asked me to bring this out to you."

"Oh, yeah." Sam answered and then smiled a little nervously. "Your Momma's a fine woman and I sure am hungry. Thank you." And he picked up the tray and looked around for another bale to sit on and eat. The dogs' attentions followed the food.

Sam spied another bale close at hand and promptly sat down and began to eat. He broke up the biscuit, sopped it in some of the gravy and threw each dog a dripping piece relevant to their sizes.

"Well it's no wonder the dogs are so fond of you if you keep throwing them table scarps." Bridget observed. "You're going to make them fat. And Papa says you let them sleep in the bunk house with you too! You're spoiling them."

"Well it's still cold out at night and they don't have much fur on to stay warm, especially the two little ones. And a few treats here and there won't hurt them." Sam countered. "Besides, with all the running around they do here there's not much chance of them getting fat!"

"Well, I certainly noticed the hard work is good for you." Bridget mumbled coyly. But Sam still heard what she said and smiled with pleasure. She sure was pretty.

He took another mouthful of food and started chewing, looking down at his plate. He felt the need to say something to her but did not know how to start. Finally, he just—started.

"Are those two fellas going to be here much longer?" He asked.

Bridget frowned. "No." She answered, sounding quite disappointed. "I think they're going to be leaving in the morning."

"Oh." That certainly got Sam's attention. "Do you think they will be coming back again?"

Bridget brightened up. "Oh yes!" She answered with a smile. "Joshua said he was going to introduce me to a detective he knows at Bannerman's in Denver!"

Sam looked puzzled "He knows a detective at Bannerman's?"

"Yes! Isn't that wonderful?" Bridget was all excited. "Then I'll be able to go right inside the agency and see how it all works, maybe even get a job there or something! Wouldn't that be a great opportunity?"

Sam wasn't smiling, things were not going to plan at all.

"Maybe it's not my place to say." Sam said cautiously. "But I think you should be a little more careful around those two."

Now Bridget wasn't smiling.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I saw Mr. Smith giving you a hug out there this afternoon and I just don't think it was very appropriate is all."

Bridget was instantly on her feet.

"Well you are definitely right about one thing!" She snapped at him, all rage and indignation. "It is certainly not your place to say! We've known Joshua and Thaddeus for years and I would trust either one of them with my life!"

Then with a huff she stomped out of the barn and back up to the house.

The dogs were feeling uneasy with the changed atmosphere and when Bridget left they were torn between going to support their mistress or staying where the food was. Peanut and Pebbles decided to keep their eyes on the gravy. Rufus, being older and wiser and not inclined to eat much anyways got up and padded after his distressed human.

Sam's shoulders slumped as he continued to eat his supper.

He sure had messed that up.

Bridget came storming into the house just as Belle and Thaddeus were sitting down to relax with their own coffees and it became apparent that the drama of the evening was not over yet.

"I hate men!" She was fuming as she headed for the staircase which would take her up to her room. "Men are so stupid—every single one of them! I'm never going to get married!"

The ranting along these lines continued as she stomped up the stairs, totally oblivious to the fact that JJ's nursery was right under the staircase, and her stomping up it was echoing loudly in his room. Within seconds of Bridget entering the house Jay was once again screaming at the top of his lungs and Beth came bursting out of the nursery a picture of anger and frustration.

"Thanks a lot Bridget!" She yelled up the stairs "I just finally got him to sleep and then you go and wake him up! The only stupid one here is you!"

Jesse and Belle both sighed and pushed themselves away from the table.

"Here we go again." Said Jesse. "Girls! Settle down! What in the world started this off?"

But Beth was already up the stairs after her sister and the loud quarrelling between the two of them reverberated throughout the household. Rufus had stopped at the front door knowing, and perhaps grateful that he wasn't allowed inside. He turned and headed towards his favorite spot on the porch to lay down and soak up the last of the evening sunshine.

Belle was on her feet and, turning her back on her cup of coffee hurried into the nursery to work her magic on the youngest member of the Jordan family.

"Oh my goodness." Jesse mumbled as he stood up and started to head for the stairs. "Welcome to family life boys."

Heyes and Kid sat at the table nursing their coffees and listening to the sounds of battle emanating from various levels of the ranch house.

"Heyes."

"Hmm?"

"I'm beginning to think it's a good thing that we're leaving in the morning."

Heyes smiled and nodded agreement.

The next morning, Heyes and Kid were still in the room they had been sharing for the last couple of nights. It was a large airy room with a double bed and windows that opened out onto the pasture where their horses had been turned out during the day It was on the main floor, right next to the day nursery, but fortunately for our boys, Belle always took little Jay upstairs to their own room for the nights.

The fellas were busy packing up their saddle bags in preparation for leaving but Curry was dragging his heels and Heyes felt the need to nudge him a little or they would never get on the road.

"Come on Kid, you knew we couldn't stay for long."

"Yeah, I know Heyes, but its gonna be real hard having to eat your cooking again after Belle's fine suppers." Curry admitted as he punched an innocent pair of socks into his saddlebags.

Heyes smiled and nodded in silent agreement.

"What do you think Heyes?" Kid asked, changing the subject. "Are we going to get in touch with Harry and ask him about Bridget?"

"I suppose." Heyes answered. "I tried to talk Bridget out of it again, but she's adamant that it's what she wants. Maybe the best thing to do is just to let her see first hand what it's all about." Then he smiled. "And if anyone can deter anyone from becoming a detective, Harry can."

Curry laughed.

"Heyes, has anyone ever told you, you have a devious mind?"

"Yeah Kid, I believe you have on a number of occasions."

A quick survey of the room convinced them that they had everything and then they headed out to the porch. Once arriving there however it looked as though Curry may be getting his wish. Jesse and Sam were standing at the foot of the steps in quiet conversation and then Jesse noticing the boys coming out turned to Curry apologetically.

"Thaddeus, I'm sorry, but when Sam went into the stable to saddle up your horses he noticed that your gelding was lame. Maybe you should go in there and take a look at him."

"Oh yeah thanks Jesse, I will."

A few minutes later, inside the barn Kid was squatted down beside Buck's off fore leg and feeling the swelling that was quite apparent in the tendons.

"I'll say he's lame." Curry mumbled. "A lot of heat in there." Then he straightened up with a sigh and gave Buck a pat on the neck. "He must have strained it running around out in the pasture."

"I could always loan you one of our riding horses Thaddeus." Jesse offered. "You boys expect to be back this way in a month or two anyways, you could always pick him up again then."

Curry appreciated the offer, but didn't feel right about leaving his trusted Buck behind. If he and Heyes got into a tight pinch he needed a horse under him that he knew and who knew him, his very life could depend upon it.

Heyes could see and understand his partner's hesitation.

"How long do you think it'll need to heal?" He asked Jesse.

"Well, it's hard to say." Jesse answered. "It depends on how bad the sprain is, it could take up to a couple of weeks."

Both men groaned, knowing that they couldn't hold off leaving for that long. Sam saw his opportunity slipping away. He had to keep these men here!

"Oh it shouldn't take that long Mr. Jordan." Sam ventured. "If we keep him quiet in a stall, and if I can get some ice from the icebox to wrap around that leg I'm sure I could have the swelling down in two to three days."

Heyes and Curry exchanged a look.

"Well, what do you think Joshua?"

Heyes hesitated. He knew Kid didn't want to leave Buck behind, just as he wouldn't want to leave Karma but he was getting antsy and wanted to be on the move again. He was just about to diplomatically suggest that Kid take Jesse up on the offer of a borrowed horse when a voice from the barn door stopped him.

"Oh please stay." It was Beth. "What harm could a couple of more days do?"

Heyes and Kid exchanged looks again. Oh boy. Jesse smiled at them.

"You know you're welcome to stay boys." He said. "And if you get really bored I can always put you work."

They laughed.

"Alright." Agreed Heyes conceding defeat. "I suppose a couple of more days won't kill us." Then he gave Kid a serious look. "But then we have to go, whether Buck's better or not. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Curry answered with a relieved smile. He gave Buck another affectionate pat on the neck and looked over at Sam. "You sure you can get that swelling down in a couple of days?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Jones." Sam answered with a relieved smile of his own. "I'm positive."

As is so often the case, the day for Curry and Heyes turned out to be quite different than what they had intended when they got up that morning.

Jesse and Beth had gone into town together in the single horse dogcart, him to teach and her to learn—hopefully. Beth had put forth a brilliant argument that since their guests were going to be staying on a few more days, and who knew when they would all get together again, that it would make sense for her to stay home from school to help entertain. It had been a good effort and both her parents were impressed with the amount of thought that had gone into it, never the less, a disappointed Beth still ended up accompanying her father to school.

Belle and Bridget were busy with the daily household chores so Heyes and the Kid were left to their own devises to keep occupied throughout the day. This did not prove to be difficult. Curry was concerned about Buck's welfare, and when he spied Sam packing ice from behind the house to inside the barn he made haste to go join him.

Inside the stall, Curry held on to Buck's head, petting him and scratching him behind the ears which was a treat the big gelding particularly enjoyed while Sam did his best to wrap an ice filled burlap sack around the swollen tendon. Buck was not too pleased with this treatment and tossed his head and tried to pull away on more than one occasion.

"Whoa, easy old friend." Kid would sooth him and continue to stroke his neck. "I know it's not too pleasant, but it'll feel better soon."

"You're really fond of this horse aren't you?" Asked Sam from his position on the floor.

"You better believe it." Curry answered. "This old boy and I have been through a lot together. Wouldn't want to trade him in for nothing."

"That's good to have that." Said Sam. "I notice your partner is awful fond of that mare too."

Curry rolled his eyes as he often tended to do when Karma-Lou was mentioned and he glanced over at the mare as she was standing in her stall across the isle. Karma, who always seemed to know when she was being referred to and was in no doubt that the comments made were all complimentary pricked her ears and gave the two men her best countenance.

"I swear I can't understand why." Curry admitted. "That mare can be a real headache sometimes, even when she's not in season!"

Sam smiled as he continued to massage the ice around Buck's tendon.

"Yeah." He agreed. "Mares can be like that sometimes. Me, I like dogs. Always have. I miss having my own dog."

"Yeah?" Answered Kid. "Did you have a dog as a kid, growing up?"

"Sure did. Best friend a boy could ever have."

Both men glanced out of the open stall door at the three dogs stretched out in the isle, overseeing the operation.

"Yeah, me too." Curry mumbled, suddenly going back in time.

"Where did you grow up Mr. Jones? Around here somewhere's?"

"Oh no." Curry answered, jolted back to the present. "Josh and I both grew up in Kansas."

"Really?" Said Sam, fringing surprise. "What brought you out this way?"

"Oh well, lots of things." Answered Curry, stroking Buck's forehead. There was something about standing in the stall spending time with his horse that made Curry relax, perhaps a little too much. "We both lost our folks in the Border Wars and then just started drifting and taking odd jobs until we found ourselves out here."

"Oh." Said Sam. "That's a shame. About your folks I mean. I lost my Pa when I was quite young too. But I still had my Ma and we did alright."

"Where do you call home Sam?"

"Wyoming."

Sam froze. Damn! Had he blown it? Having an girlfriend in town was a convenient cover and Maribelle was pleasant enough company but nothing more. He hadn't even thought that showing interest in Bridget might compromise his integrity in the eyes of these men. Did Curry suspect something wasn't right? This being in the barn, tending to the horse had made him too relaxed and he stopped thinking about what he was saying! Well now it was time to start thinking again! Get back on track.

A slight chill went through Kid, but he pushed it down and ignored it. He was sure that it was just the mention of that name that sent his nerves to tingling. Besides, many people were from Wyoming, he was sure it didn't mean anything. Still, he thought perhaps it might be best to change the subject.

"So, I hear you have a girlfriend in town."

Sam smiled. "Yeah. Maribelle. She's real pretty too. I'm going to go in to see her this evening for supper."

"Yeah? You sound like you're kinda serious about her."

"Yeah, I suppose I am. Why you askin'?"

"Well," Began the Kid. "It's just that I noticed you spending a lot of time talking to Bridget. It just seems to me that if you're courting one gal, you shouldn't be thinking of courting another one at the same time."

Sam froze. Damn! Had he blown it? Having a girlfriend in town was a convenient cover and Maribelle was pleasant enough company but nothing more. He hadn't even thought that showing interest in Bridget might compromise his integrity in the eyes of these men. Did Curry suspect something? This being in the barn, tending to the horse had made him too relaxed and he stopped thinking about what he was saying! Well now it was time to start thinking again! Get back on track.

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well it's not like Maribelle and me are betrothed or anything." Sam was thinking on his feet, so to speak. "You can't blame a fella for looking around before he makes his final choice can you?"

"No, I don't suppose so." Curry had to admit.

Damn, he could remember being twenty-five and hopping from one bed into another without any thought or concern about the feelings of his various bedmates. He had just assumed they were all in it for the fun too, no harm done. Geesh, he thought with a twinge of guilt, here he was well into his thirty's and he was still doing the same thing! But now all of a sudden he was looking at the equation from the other side of the bed. This time it was Bridget who stood the chance of getting her feelings hurt.

Curry had a hard time digesting this new revelation. He had always felt the pull to protect a lady who was in need of a helping hand but it never occurred to him that they might need protecting from him! He felt an unreasonable desire to grab Sam by the scruff of the neck and shake some decency into him, but then, he mused, maybe it was himself he needed to slap some sense into instead. Oh this line of thought was getting him nowhere.

"I just don't want to see Bridget get hurt is all."

Sam looked up at him, suddenly all serious.

"No Mr. Jones. Neither do I."

It was at this point that Heyes showed up at the barn door.

"Hey Thad, come outside. I want to talk to you a minute."

"Oh yeah. Hang on a minute."

"No, that's alright Mr. Jones." Sam told him. "I think that's enough of a cold pack for now. I'll come back and do it again after lunch. In the mean time I got chores to get to and Mr. Jordan wants me to take that stallion up to the south range to turn him out with the broodmares, so you're good to go."

"Alright Sam. Thanks for your help." Curry answered as he removed Buck's halter and then went to join his partner out in the sunshine.

"Joshua, what's up?"

"Nothing really." Heyes answered casually. "I was just thinking, since Buck is laid up and all that I just might ride on in to Brookswood on my own and send that telegram to Harry."

"Yeah, okay. You want me to borrow one of the horses here and come with you?"

"No, that's okay Kid." Heyes said quietly. "To be quite honest I'm just feeling all pent up and restless. I just need to get out and blow off some of the cobwebs. You know how I get when we're hole up in one place for too long and there's no poker."

Curry grinned

"Yeah, I know Heyes." He agreed. "You go ahead. I got enough to do here with Buck and I'll probably help Sam get caught up on his chores since its cause of my horse he's gotten behind. Besides, I think Karma-Lou could do with a stretch of the legs too. She was getting kinda restless in there."

"Okay, see you in a couple of hours. Stay out of trouble."

"Yeah ,yeah."

Then Heyes disappeared into the barn to saddle up his horse.

Half and hour later Heyes had left the main road into town and was flying at a full gallop across open country. Karma was feeling her oats and wanted to run so as soon as Heyes and turned her head towards freedom she had let loose with a small squeal of pleasure, gave Heyes a little buck just for the fun of it and then lit out full speed ahead for parts wherever.

After three years of riding this mare Heyes had never gotten over the thrill of her full out gallop. He was relieved that Kid hadn't pressed coming with him as he had really felt the need of some time alone—a telegram to Harry being just a convenient excuse. Now all the restlessness and worry that had been building up inside of him just slipped away and he laughed into the full force of the wind.

Karma heard him laugh and snorted and flung her head in response. She loved it when her human let her go like this, just the two of them flying over the countryside together. Not to misunderstand her, she had become quite fond of Buck over the years and many a time it was his steadying presence that had helped to calm her nerves when unexpected things happened and they did seem to happen a lot in this new life of hers. But there were times when she found his patient understanding towards her and to all things around him just downright boring. Both man and horse had been in need of an adrenaline rush.

Eventually, as Heyes felt Karma start to slow down on her own accord, he settled back into the saddle and slowly brought her down to an easy lope, then a trot and finally to a nice walk. Karma mouthed the bit a couple of times, then set out on a loose rein at a comfortable swinging gait, looking around and taking in the scenery. Heyes had no idea where they were in relationship to the ranch, but that didn't matter right now. He got his bearings and casually made his way in the general direction of town thinking that he should at least send the telegram, since that was his excuse for leaving the ranch in the first place.

Heyes was still worried, no doubt about it, but not the pent up stressful worry that had been building in him that morning. He hoped that by coming out here, just him and Karma that he could clear his mind and perhaps settle some of the nagging questions that had been taking hold.

Watching Kid that first day with the Jordan's when he was holding their new son had affected Heyes more than he had realized at the time. It had re-arisen in him some of the doubts that had settled onto him soon after they had applied for the amnesty and, until now he had just pushed back out of the way and hoped they would simply disappear. No such luck.

That big question of what were they going to do with their lives if and when the amnesty came through? On the rare occasions when the subject would come up between them Curry would just laugh about it and proceed to list off a series of the most ridiculous and unlikely professions that two single men in their mid-thirty's would ever consider doing.

But Heyes knew, first and foremost, that Curry wanted a family. He wanted to put down roots, have a home and a life he could call his own, and coming to visit the Jordan's had brought that yearning to the surface again. Over the last few days Kid had snatched moments here and there to help with the care of JJ, assisting whoever with the bathing and the dressing. Playing with him when he was awake and rocking him to sleep when playtime was over. And always, he looked happy doing it, content even, and Heyes would worry.

Heyes didn't think he could settle into that kind of life. He was hopeful, that one day he would find a woman who could put up with him well enough to consent to marry him, but children? A family life? He wasn't so sure about that. He was consumed by a restlessness that he could not understand. Oh, he grew tired of the fugitive life for sure, always sleeping with one eye open, never knowing when a peaceful morning was going to blow up in his face, but two or three days in one place and he needed to get going again.

The only thing that seemed to calm him enough to stay put for a longer period was a good book or a good poker game because then his mind was kept busy. Sometimes he felt it was his mind that was his biggest enemy. Sure his ego loved it when he could out maneuver a posse or effortlessly rule over a poker game just for the fun of it. His flashes of genius that would dazzle everyone around him into awed submission were like candy to his psyche. It was like an addiction that he needed to keep feeding in order to feel alive, to feel that he was actually worth something. Without his incredible mind he was no different from any other worn out ex-outlaw with nothing to show and nothing to offer.

But he couldn't turn the damn thing off! Constant impulses of information bombarding his senses, twisting and turning into schemes and plans and what if's and why not's. He'd learned how to settle his mind down to some degree at night so that usually he could at least sleep, but even that wasn't a guarantee. How did Kid do it? Even in the middle of the day he could stretch out anywhere, pull his hat over his eyes and be asleep in minutes! And there would be Heyes up and pacing. Pace, pace pace. It drove Heyes nuts.

It seemed that the only way he could relax at all was to keep moving or to keep his mind focused and calculating on something. So far, Kid had been happy to just fallow along whenever Heyes got restless and had to hit the trail again, but what if Kid got married and settled down? Would that be the end of their partnership, their friendship? Heyes' throat involuntarily tightened at the thought. Could he go on? Could he face a life without Jed by his side? He needed Jed's calming influence, his quiet down to earth common sense, just as Karma had come to depend on Buck's steadying support in times of stress.

The possibility of Curry moving into another life, a life that Heyes could not emulate scared him more than death itself. So he simply chose not to think about it. Until they were sitting around the lunch table with the Jordan's and Curry was sitting there holding a infant in his arms with a smile on his face that lit up the room

Heyes was stressing himself out again. No questions answered, no doubts relieved. So again, he pushed these thoughts out of his mind and decided to just enjoy his day out with his favorite girl. He pushed Karma up into an easy lope as they headed towards the town. Maybe he'd even be able to find a poker game.

Curry watched his partner lope off up the road with a sense of relief. He could feel the stress in Heyes building, something was bugging him and Curry couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was. Maybe some time on his own and the distraction of a good poker game would help Heyes sort out whatever it was that had him so worried. But Hannibal was just so "high octane." It was no wonder the man was so skinny, he burned calories in his sleep!

Still, Curry did feel a tad guilty about the forced delay, not because he felt it was his fault really, but that he was secretly glad for it. He was sorry his horse was in pain, of course, but not sorry for some more time with the Jordans.

He had surprised even himself with how much he was enjoying being here, to feel part of a family again, and to take part in the functioning of that family. And admittedly, the talk with Sam earlier about where they had grown up etc. had stirred some deeply buried memories and longings. Things that Curry usually didn't want to think about and yet now, and in this place those thoughts had bubbled to the surface and weren't going away any time soon.

Curry had to admit that he was getting tired. Tired of life on the run. Five years now, and still no sign of the amnesty coming their way. Just how long were they suppose to carry on like this? It wasn't so bad when they had money and could stay in a decent hotel and actually sleep in a bed—two beds if possible! But being out in the elements, sleeping on the ground in all kinds of weather. Geesh, they'd both gotten sick doing that and as they got older, the more often it was going to happen until one time, maybe one of them just wouldn't recover like he had before. Curry didn't like being sick, and dag nammitt he just seemed to have a predisposition towards phenomena that he was none too comfortable with. Winters on the run were getting harder and harder to face.

Finally Curry sighed and ran his fingers through his curls. For the second time that morning he found himself caught up in a train of thought that was getting him absolutely nowhere. He went back into the barn to see if Sam needed help with the chores.

The rest of the day went by quickly, but uneventfully. Curry iced Buck's leg a couple of more times throughout the afternoon and Kid was quite pleased with the progress Another day of rest and ice should bring the tendon back down to normal and then they could be off and gone.

Bridget had come out to the barn around noon with sandwiches and lemonade for both men. She smiled sweetly at Thaddeus and asked him how Buck was doing and if they were almost done chores etc., but she hardly glanced at Sam. Curry smiled to himself at how uncomfortable Sam was looking. Apparently their little tiff of the night before had not been forgotten.

Shortly after that Sam saddled up one of the riding horses and took JohnnyBoy out towards the open range. It wouldn't take too long since all Sam had to do was get the stallion within reasonable range of the herd, point him in the right direction and turn him loose. Instinct and desire would lead that stud right to his mares without any further assistance from Sam.

By late afternoon Jesse and Beth had returned home from their day of education and Sam had completed the final chore of the day by cooling out and bedding down their harness horse before scurrying off towards town himself for his anticipated rendezvous.

Curry got himself cleaned up and had settled in to join the family around the large table for supper

Belle entered the room with the pot of stew and of course noticed that one place was still empty.

"Where's Joshua?" She asked suddenly quite concerned.

"Oh he went into town to send a telegram to that detective friend of ours." Curry answered her as he passed the fresh buns around to the ladies and Bridget smiled with anticipation of what the answer to it might be.

"Well I know that Thaddeus." Belle said. "But that was this morning, he should have been back ages ago."

"Oh well, I wouldn't worry too much about him ma'am." Belle flashed him a look. "I mean Belle. If he's found himself a good poker game he may not be back till morning."

"Really?" She asked. "He doesn't stay up all night does he?"

"Yup. He's been known to do so."

"Well, he'll definitely be hungry when he gets back them I'll save him some supper, or breakfast as the case may be."

"Is Joshua really that good at poker?" Jesse asked. "I hear it is a very difficult game to master."

"Yeah, it is a difficult game." Curry agreed. "And there are an awful lot of bad players around who refuse to acknowledge that. I'm not too bad a player, but Joshua, now he is a natural. He just has a way of reading people and of keeping track of all the cards. Once the deck has been dealt out he never forgets the order of them and he knows what players should have what hands." Curry smiled in admiration of his partner's abilities. "It's a real amazing thing to watch."

Belle smiled, remembering a similar conversation she'd had with Joshua while they were out on the front porch watching Curry practice his fast draw.

"Isn't it a rather dangerous pastime though," Asked Jesse. "It doesn't happen here in Brookswood too often, but we do sometimes hear of some of these games getting a bit out of control at times."

"Yeah, it can." Curry agreed. "There are too many sore losers who would rather accuse the winning player of being a cheat rather than just admit that they were beat fair and square. But Joshua is too good a player, he don't have to cheat."

"How does that help Joshua if somebody accuses him of cheating?" Asked Bridget, suddenly all concerned. "Couldn't he get into trouble?"

"Well, usually I'm there to watch his back." Curry confessed. "I know I'm not there tonight, but like you just said Jesse, there's usually not too much trouble in Brookswood."

"No, not usually." Jesse agreed. "I would hardly think the small games we have here would interest Joshua that much. If he's that good a player."

"Joshua uses poker to relax just as much as he uses it for income."

"Income?" Questioned Belle. "Rather risky way of earning your income isn't it?"

Curry smiled. "Not for Joshua." He stated. "His skill at the poker table has put food in our bellies and a pillow under our heads more times than I care to keep tally of. He's just that good."

Jesse and Belle exchanged glances. It still seemed rather risky to them.

"Do you think you could teach me to play poker Thaddeus?" Beth suddenly asked out of the blue.

This query was instantly met with an onslaught of negative responses from each adult present.

"Don't you even think it young lady!"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Over my dead body."

"Well, I just thought because I was so good a numbers…"Beth mumbled.

Bridget snickered into her stew and received a scathing look from her younger sister.

After supper Jesse and Kid were sitting out on the porch enjoying a cup of coffee when both Heyes and Sam returned from their entertainment in town. They rode up to the barn where the saddle and harness horses were kept and dismounted, each apparently pleased with the outcomes of their endeavors. Sam offered to take both horses in to feed and bed down and so Heyes came over to join the two men on the porch.

"Sam's a pretty helpful young fella." Heyes commented as he pulled a chair over to sit beside Jesse. "He's a good hand with a horse anyway."

"Yes he is." Jesse agreed. "I think he'll make a fine foreman on a large spread some day. Once he gets some more experience under his belt."

"So, how did it go?" Kid asked "Did you send the telegram?"

"Oh yeah." Answered Heyes, all smiles and good humour. "Didn't receive an answer yet, but we can check again before we leave."

Heyes pulled off his hat and ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. A slight frown flashed across Jesse face when, suddenly, for the first time, he noticed the white scar just below Heyes' hairline. It was a solid scar, made by a deep bullet graze and Jesse wondered why he had never noticed it before. Then he reasoned that it was well hidden beneath Heyes' long bangs and could only be seen when he pushed his hair back that way.

It's odd how you can know something, but not really acknowledge it until it slaps you in the face, Jesse mused. Of course he was aware that these two young men were Hannibal Heyes and Jed Curry, but he had never really considered the dangerous lives they must have led, and were still leading. No wonder they were so cautious all the time, and loath to stay in one spot for too long. Joshua was lucky that bullet hadn't killed him.

Jesse was still trying to process this new realization when Belle came out onto the porch carrying two cups of coffee.

"There you are Joshua" She said. "I thought I heard your voice out here. I brought you a cup of coffee."

"Oh, thank you." Said Heyes, and quickly got up to offer Belle his chair which she gladly accepted. Heyes dragged another one over and once seated, took the proffered beverage and took a moment to savor it's aroma before indulging in a sip.

"There's some supper for you in the kitchen if you would like something" Belle told him.

"Oh, yes."Heyes smiled broadly "I will thank you. Just give me a minute to unwind."

"You're back early." Commented Jesse. "Thaddeus here gave us to believe that you could be gone for the night."

Heyes sent a smile over to the Kid "Did he?"

"Well, I know what you're like when you get into a poker game Heyes."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Heyes admitted.

"None to your liking this evening Joshua?" Asked Belle.

"Oh, to the contrary." Answered Heyes, still wound up with the thrill of the game. "I think I did quite well." And he sent another huge smile over to his cousin. "I guess I would still be there, but the poker shuts down kinda early here and then, what do you know? I ran into Sam as he was coming out of the telegraph office so we decided to head on back here together."

"Well that was fortuitous." Commented Belle, though she fleetingly wondered who Sam would be sending a telegram to.

Then the two girls, having finished with the cleaning up came out to join the group on the porch. Heyes and the Kid instantly surrendered their chairs to the ladies and found comfortable perches on the porch railings or against the post.

"All sounds quiet in there Beth." Belle observed. "Did you have more success with JJ this evening?"

"Yes," Beth beamed, and smiled over at Thaddeus. "I think I might be getting the hang of looking after babies."

Heyes and Kid exchanged quick smiles, even they knew it wasn't that easy.

"Did you get a telegram back from your friend Joshua?" Asked Bridget all eager for some news.

"No, not yet." Heyes answered, but seeing her disappointment, quickly continued. "But that's not too surprising. He's probably out on some assignment or something. He knows how to get in touch with us. Don't worry Bridget, I'll set something up for you if I can."

It was Bridget's turn to beam.

Over at the barn, Sam stood in the doorway in the fading evening light, watching the group of people over on the porch and listening to the light banter and laughter coming from their direction.

He just couldn't understand it. How could these good people be on such friendly terms with those outlaws? Didn't they understand what those men were capable of, and indeed, the numerous crimes that they had already committed?

Riding back from town in the company of that slick con man, Sam had had to muster all his self control to simply not draw his gun on the man and arrest him then and there. Heyes had been so elated, so sickeningly pleased with himself over cardsharping the hard working citizens of the town out of their week's wages that it was all Sam could do to smile and laugh along with the outlaw, pretending to be happy for him. Sam felt frustrated at having to hold off and to have to stand there and listen to young Bridget laugh and talk with him as though he were actually entitled to her admiration.

But if there was one thing his father had taught him, it's the importance of sticking to a plan. If you are a member of a group, and a junior member at that you did what you were told and you stuck to the plan. Well, that's what Sam was doing to the best of his ability. He knew that Sheriff Morrison was getting everything in order, that all the paperwork and red tape would be taken care of and out of the way so that nothing would hinder bringing those to highwaymen to justice once they were arrested.

The trap was being set and Sam Jefferies was determined that he was going to be there to see it sprung.

Next morning, Curry was up bright and early and was dressed and just strapping on his gun belt when Heyes rolled over, stretched and peeked at his partner through sleep heavy eyes.

"Wha ya do'n?" He mumbled. "is early."

"Yeah I know Heyes." Curry replied. "Go back to sleep. I just want to check on Buck and see how the swelling is. If he's looking good maybe we can head out this morning."

"Hmmmm…" Heyes pulled the blanket over his head and rolled over again, fully intending on taking his partner's advice.

Out in the kitchen Belle was already up and putting the coffee on.

"Well you're up early." She commented. "Breakfast will be a while, but the coffee will be ready soon."

Curry smiled. "Sounds fine Belle. I won't be long I just want to check on Buck." And with that he stepped out into the crisp sunny morning and made his way over to the outhouse first, and then into the barn.

Upon opening the door he was met with numerous nickerings and stamping of feet and every horse head in the place turned towards him in anticipation. He must be early he mused, getting out here even before Sam for the morning feeding. So Curry went into the feed room first, piled up eight flakes of hay into the wheelbarrow and headed down the isle, dumping a flake into each stall. Everyone seemed content with that and instantly the barn was filled with the sounds of happy munching and contented snorting.

Curry replaced the wheelbarrow and then went into Buck's stall to see how things were going.

He gave the big gelding a pat and a scratch on the neck

"How you doing this morning old friend?" He asked him.

Buck snorted an acknowledgement but continued to munch. Curry knelt down by his leg and ran his hands down the tendon and then sighed in disappointment. The tendon was much improved, but there was still some heat and swelling in there so he knew they wouldn't be going anywhere that day. Again.

"How's he doing?"

Curry just about jumped out of his skin. And then Buck jumped in reaction to his human jumping, but then settled back to his hay again as Curry straightened and turned on his partner.

"Geesh Heyes! You should know better than to sneak up on me like that!"

"Oh, sorry." Heyes responded with smile that suggested he wasn't sorry at all.

Heyes had had every intention of going back to sleep, but sounds of the household beginning to stir, and the aroma of coffee beginning to brew had succeeded in dragging him out of bed. His activities of the day before, though exhilarating at the time had left him burned out and exhausted and morning had come much too early for his liking. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment in his long johns and undershirt and then yawned and stretched again and tried to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. Oh well, nothing for it, he was up now.

For decency's sake he pulled on his trousers, then his socks and boots and then headed out of the room. He said good morning to Belle as he headed for the front door, and she smiled at him over her first cup of coffee, thinking he looked like something the cat had dragged in—if cats were allowed in the house. She would take some coffee out to them in the barn if they didn't come back in soon.

Like his partner before him, Heyes headed into the outhouse first and then made his way over to the barn. The coolness in the spring air helped to wake him up and he kind of regretted not pulling his shirt on over his undergarment. Oh well, they probably wouldn't be outside for long anyways.

"So, is he fit to ride today?"

"Naw." Curry answered. "It's getting better, but it's still swollen."

Then Curry pulled out his revolver and began checking the chamber.

"Well, I really don't think there's any call to shoot him." Heyes commented

"Ha ha, Heyes." Curry answered sardonically. "I just thought I might get in a little target practice before all."

"Oh." Heyes didn't look too pleased with that. "Can't that wait until after breakfast Kid? I don't think my head could stand it before nourishment ."

Curry slipped his gun back into its holster and sent his partner a reprimanding look.

"Well who's fault is that Heyes? Just how much did you drink yesterday?"

"I know, I know." Heyes grumbled, still looking a bit bleary eyed. "It's nothing that ten or twelve cups of coffee won't cure."

"Come on, let's go get some food into you." Curry suggested as he walked past Heyes towards the door of the barn.

Heyes smiled sheepishly. Then he hurried to catch up with the Kid and put a hand on his shoulder as they stepped out into the sunlight.

"Geesh Kid, you're usually the one who's gotta eat first."

"Huh hu."

And then the rifle shot shattered the early morning silence.

TO BE CONTINUED. (sorry)

.


	3. Chapter 3 The Trap

Chapter 3: THE TRAP

Richard Layton took pride in the fact that he was the best shot with a rifle in all the county surrounding the town of Murreyville. Whenever there was a shooting contest, he won them all. Whenever there was a rogue cougar taking out too many calves or foals the ranchers hired him to track it down and take care of it. Whenever Sheriff Morrison had need of some trustworthy and capable men for a special job Rick was always first on his list. Therefore it came as no surprise to Layton when Morrison got in touch and told him to be ready to move out at a moment's notice. Something good was in the air, and Rick, with his trusty and well oiled '73 Winchester 44-40 was definitely going to be needed.

Morrison had received a telegram from his informant two weeks previous stating that two men by the names of Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones would be dropping by the Double J ranch sometime in the very near future and that was all Morrison needed to start getting preparations under way. He began by contacting the three men who had the talents and the tenacity to understand the plan and to carry it out to its conclusion.

Along with Layton, there was Jack Strode who, though not as handy with a rifle as Richard, he was just as good a tracker and Morrison wanted him along just in case the quarry escaped the trap. Then the third member of the party was Mike Shoemacher who had no special abilities other than that he was big and could look menacing without even breaking a sweat. He also had a brain under his hat and was not an easy man to con which was a strong asset considering who it was they were going after.

Once Morrison had his three men organized and standing by, he made a trip to the county seat to pay a visit to The Honourable Judge Henry Jackson to arrange for warrants and extradition papers that would give the Sheriff the lawful right to enter another state or territory, arrest the outlaws and return with them to Wyoming where they would finally face trial for their numerous crimes.

Sheriff Morrison left no stone unturned. Knowing that timing was everything he didn't wait for news that the outlaws had arrived, but had gathered his carefully chosen posse together, boarded the specially ordered train and began chugging and clanking their way to Denver just as fast as the engine could haul them. He had made arrangements with his deputy to be on the lookout for another telegram from Brookswood Colorado and when it did arrive, to send it on to the telegraph office in Denver where Morrison would be waiting to receive it.

Once that telegram actually did arrive, then things really started to get serious. Everything hinged on Sam being able to keep the two outlaws from leaving the ranch without them getting suspicious that something was in the works. If that part of the plan had been up to Morrison he wouldn't have used him. Sam was a good lad, but he was young and inexperienced and could easily give the game away without even knowing he had done it. But Sam's father had been a much liked and respected law man and the people funding this little operation wanted to give his son a chance to prove himself. Morrison just wished they would do that on a plan that wasn't quite as volatile or potentially profitable as this one was. Heyes and Curry were anything but stupid. The slightest hint of a setup and they would be gone and so would any chance of ever laying out a trap like this again. This plan had been over a year in the making, but it was a one time deal, no second chances so it just had to work.

From Denver, the small posse then took a stagecoach to the small town of Salt River that was ten miles outside of Brookswood. Morrison did not want to announce their arrival to anyone in Brookswood in case someone in town got word to the Jordan's inadvertently or not, and that included the local law enforcement. Morrison didn't know the sheriff of that town and didn't want to take the chance that the man might be an idiot. The less anybody knew about their plans the better.

That evening Morrison sent one more telegram to Sam letting him know (in as few words as possible, in case the telegraph operator liked to gossip) that everything was ready. Then all Morrison could do was hope that Sam knew what he had to do and not lose his nerve this close to the end.

Horses, and a few last minute supplies were purchased and then the small posse made their way towards the Jordan ranch They were able to make good time at first, but as the light started to fade they slowed the pace down so as not to cause injury to themselves or the horses. They all rode in silence, everyone's nerves just a little on edge. It was getting on to midnight by the time they were approaching the ranch and five miles out they stopped to wait out the night, not wanting to risk getting any closer with the lanterns blazing

They picketed the horses, but left them saddled and wrapped themselves in blankets to try and stay a little warm in the chilly spring night air and then settled in to wait for the first hint of dawn to make an appearance. Actually getting some sleep was completely out of the question. If it wasn't for the anxiety involved the anticipation of dawn's arrival would have reminded the men of long ago Christmas mornings when the first light of day would bring happy surprises. But there was no telling what this first light was going to bring, other than relief when it finally did arrive and the men could get moving again.

By the time the sun was peeking up over the horizon the posse members were in their positions around the Jordan's ranch house and waiting for anything to start happening. Mike was some distance back, keeping the horses quiet. Jack had settled into a spot by the barn furthest from the house but with a clear view of the yard and the front porch. Richard and Morrison had hunkered down behind the wood shed and water well which gave them a side view of the porch but a clear view of the barn closest to the house. All the strategic points were covered.

Richard did one more quick check of his rifle then placed the barrel over the lip of the well in order to test his maneuverability. He had to be able to rest the barrel of the rifle on something solid to achieve the stability he would need for the clean shot but he also needed the rifle unhindered in case the target got wind of what was coming and made a run for it.

Then, just as the sun was clearing the horizon and warming itself up for another pleasant spring day, the front door of the house opened. A man with dark blond curly hair and wearing a light blue shirt and jeans came out onto the porch and down the steps and then headed for the outhouse.

"That's Curry." Morrison whispered.

"I know." Came Richard's quiet response.

"Just let him carry on. We have to wait until they're both out in the open."

"I know."

Curry came into view again and then made his way into the first barn. The men waited

About ten minutes later the front door opened once more and a dark haired disheveled man wearing tan trousers and just his henley staggered his way down the steps and also headed to the outhouse.

"There! That's Heyes."

"I know."

"Damn! Why couldn't they come out together? The longer this takes the more complicated it could become."

They sat quietly, watching while Heyes made his way from the outhouse and into the barn. Then they waited, hearts thumping and nerves jingling.

"Damn!" Whispered Morrison again. "Come on! If anyone else comes out of the house now this whole thing could be a wash. If either of those girls are anywhere near your line of fire you cannot shoot."

"I KNOW!" Geesh! Why couldn't Morrison shut up and let him focus. He knew what he had to do.

Then, what seemed like an eternity later, Heyes and Curry came out of the barn and headed back towards the house. They were talking, smiling, apparently in good spirits and totally unsuspecting of anything amiss.

Richard took a deep breath and lined him up in his sights.

"Do you have him?" Morrison whispered.

"I have him."

"Take your shot."

Richard moistened his lips, held his breath and then slowly squeezed the trigger.

Heyes felt the shock of the impact go through the Kid's body as the bullet slammed into Curry's right shoulder. Curry grunted softly, fell over into Heyes and then started to go down. Heyes grabbed him and went to the ground with him, trying, somewhat unsuccessfully to cushion his fall.

Then pandemonium broke out.

Heyes couldn't decide if time had sped up or slowed down. He was hardly aware of the sudden eruption of activity, of people shouting and running, the dogs barking from some far away distant location. A baby screaming. But Hannibal and Jed were in a bubble all by themselves where time had no meaning and the world stood still.

Curry was gasping, fighting to breathe and blood was everywhere. It spread across the front of his shirt like river water overflowing its banks turning the blue material into a sopping, sickening mess. It seeped out from where Curry was laying, escaping from the exit wound in his back and running in little rivulets along the dusty ground and soaking into the knees of Heyes' trousers. Curry's right arm lay helpless by his side, but his left hand clutched at Heyes' henley, hanging on for dear life.

Heyes was terrified. He'd never seen so much blood. Oh Dear God! Please, stop the bleeding! He was leaning over the Kid, his hands grasping the saturated material of Kid's shirt causing blood to squeeze through his fingers, while he desperately hung on to his partner. If he could just hold on tight enough then Curry couldn't leave him.

"Hey…Heyes…" It was hardly more than a gasping whisper.

"Yeah Kid." It was all Heyes could do to push the words out, there was no breath in his lungs.

"I'm sorry…"

Heyes knitted his brow. "What have you got to be sorry about?"

"Should…have been….more careful."

"Aww, Kid no. That wasn't your fault. We both got careless."

"Heyes…"

"Yeah Kid."

"Gonna pass out…now."

"Yeah Kid, okay."

Then Curry's eyes rolled back and his body relaxed. His left hand released its desperate hold on Heyes' shirt and dropped down onto his chest. With that intimate contact broken the bubble surrounding them burst open and Heyes' senses were instantly assaulted by the noise and confusion of the activity around them. Suddenly he was aware of Belle kneeling across from him, desperately stuffing padding and cloth into the wounds in an attempt to at least slow down the bleeding. Beth was by Curry's head, clutching his shoulders, sobbing and rocking herself and pleading with all her soul "Please don't die. Please don't die."

Then the inevitable; a hand grabbing the back of Heyes' henley and an authoritarian voice cutting through to his senses.

"Hannibal Heyes, you're under arrest. Get your hands up where I can see them. NOW!"

Heyes couldn't sort out what he was supposed to do. He looked to Belle with eyes asking for help. She smiled gently over at him and touched his hand. That small contact enabled his mind to focus and to tell his fingers to release their grip on Curry's shirt. He automatically went to wipe them on his henley to clean off the blood, but quickly thought better of it when he suddenly felt the cold steel of Morrison's hand gun pressed against the back of his skull. He left his hands bloody and raised them for the sheriff to see.

"Good. Now, put them behind your head and stand up."

Heyes did so, now keenly aware of the two rifles aimed directly at him, but at such an angle as to hit him if fired, but conveniently miss the sheriff. He felt rough hands patting him down, starting at his boots and working their way up. First one lock pick was discovered in his right boot, then another in his left boot and then a third neatly tucked away in the waistband of his trousers.

Morrison laughed. "My my Mr. Heyes you're just a walking mercantile store today aren't you? Do you have one hidden behind your ears, or how about up your shirt sleeve?"

Heyes felt no need to comment. He stood quietly, despondent , looking at the two men with their rifles aimed at him, noticing Bridget in the middle distance being comforted by Sam, hearing the dogs, quieter now but still letting out the occasional "woof" from inside the bunk house. There were birds chirping and flies, or was it a bee buzzing around them. He felt the sheriff grab one of his wrists and then the other, pulling them down and around behind his back and snapping on the hand cuffs. He was numb, he didn't care.

"He's not going to die is he Momma? Please don't let him die." He heard Beth pleading with her mother.

"Well now Beth, we are going to do everything we possibly can to make sure that doesn't happen, okay?"

Her words and tone were quiet and comforting to try to keep her daughter calm but when she looked up at Joshua the worry and the fear in her eyes reflected what was in his own. They both knew that saving Thaddeus' life was anything but a certainty.

Jesse came out of the house and hurried over to them, carrying a blanket. He put a hand on his wife's shoulder and knelt down beside her.

"I've laid blankets and some pillows on the large table, if we can get Thaddeus onto this blanket, then maybe we can carry him inside and get him settled there without causing him too much distress."

Belle nodded and she and Beth started to spread out the blanket. In the meantime Jesse stood up and sent a glare over at the sheriff.

"Why are your men just standing around? Why hasn't someone gone into town for the Doctor?"

"Calm down Mr. Jordan." The sheriff answered him. "That's been taken care of. I sent one of my men for the Doctor right away, they should be back here within the hour."

"This man could bleed to death within the hour!" Jesse shot back at him. "There was no need to shoot him in the first place! You had them cornered you could have easily just walked in and arrested them without all this bloodshed!"

Morrison bristled at the assault.

"On the contrary, Mr. Jordan." He snarled back. "Kid Curry is just too damn good with that handgun and I had no intentions of giving him the opportunity to use it! He's a killer and he's dangerous! The sooner you and your family realize that the better off you'll be!"

Ten minutes later, with Jesse, Richard, Jack and Sam each grabbing a corner of the blanket they had Curry inside the ranch house and got him settled onto the layers of blankets on the table. Morrison had given Heyes a slight shove to fallow, and the girls quickly brought up the rear. Once inside the sheriff indicated one of the chairs that had been pulled away from the table for Heyes to go sit in.

Belle was instantly in charge—again.

"Bridget, you know where I keep the laudanum for your Papa headaches?"

"Yes Momma."

"Please go and get it, and bring some more padding and towels from the storage. Beth, go see to your brother."

"But Momma…"

"Don't argue with me young lady, just do it."

With a quick heart wrenching look at Thaddeus Beth did what she was told. However, no one had specified exactly where she was to see to her brother, so within minutes she was back in the living area with JJ in her arms and was doing her best imitation of a mouse in the corner.

Bridget returned with the required supplies and then helped her mother remove the sopping red paddings and replace them with clean ones. It was hard to tell if it was doing any good. The bleeding had been staunched to some degree, but the necessary jostling that had taken place to get Curry into the house had set things to flowing again. It wasn't long before the new dressings were just as bloody as the previous ones

Heyes felt sick. How long was it going to take for that Doctor to get to them?

Jack was in the process of unbuckling Curry's gun belt and pulling it out from under him when Kid groaned and was suddenly awake. He looked around and could only see strangers standing over him and panic slowly started to rise up.

"Heyes?"

"Yeah, I'm here Kid." Heyes answered, quickly getting to his feet, but Morrison sent him back to his chair with a quick gesture and a hard look. Heyes sat back down with a scowl on his face, feeling that a battle was imminent.

Jesse moved forward and put a hand on Curry's leg. "It's alright Thaddeus, we're here."

Belle was beside Kid, speaking softly to him hoping to keep him calm and maybe get some laudanum into him. It wasn't a strong painkiller, but anything at this point might help. Curry was having none of it, nothing was familiar to him and that pain in his shoulder was driving him mad. Panic rose up, enveloped him and then exploded. He started to fight.

"HEYES!"

"No Kid, don't! I'M HERE!"

Heyes was on his feet again ignoring Morrison this time, but the sheriff grabbed him and pulled him back.

"No!" Heyes was furious. "Let me go to him! I can calm him down! UNCUFF ME!"

The two deputies and Jesse had pounced on Kid trying to hold him down, but his panic was beyond reason, beyond pain and he fought like a man possessed. Belle was knocked to the floor, spilling some of the medicine, but through quick reflexes and desperation managed to save some. Jay was crying and the two girls clung to one another as they watched the violent scene, unable to do anything to help.

"You're killing him!" Heyes yelled. "Do you want him to bleed to death right here on their kitchen table with those girls watching?! UNCUFF ME!"

Morrison sent a quick glance over at the three Jordan children, but still hesitated.

"I'M NOT GOING TO GO ANYWHERE!" Heyes was pleading in desperation.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity, Morrison dug out the keys to the handcuffs and unlocked one bracelet leaving the other in place.

As soon as Heyes felt himself free he was at Curry's side, shoving one of the deputies (he didn't know or care which one) out of his way and grabbed his friend by his good shoulder with another hand across his upper chest. Heyes shook him, trying to break through the panic, to get his attention.

"KID! KID! It's me Heyes! I'm here!"

The change was miraculous. As soon as he heard his cousin's voice and could see his face Curry began to calm down.

"Heyes?"

"Yeah Kid." Heyes practically went weak with relief. "It's me, I'm here. You can relax, okay?"

"No. Run Heyes. Run." Came the whispered but urgent demand.

Heyes gave a half rueful smile as he glanced around at the stern faces and bristling guns surrounding them.

"No Kid." He answered sadly. "It's too late for that. We're done."

Curry groaned in disappointment and closing his eyes, he lay his head back down on the damp blanket.

Heyes sighed and ran his hand through Kid's hair, stroking him, coaxing him to relax and to stay calm only dimly aware of the stickiness of the blood caked curls.

"Joshua?" It was Belle.

Heyes looked over at her.

"Joshua, see if you can get him to take some of this. It's just a mild painkiller and sedative, but it might help."

Heyes nodded and took the small bottle from her. He put his hand behind Kid's head and lifted him up a little. Curry opened his eyes.

"Here Kid, try to swallow some of this."

"What's it?"

"Just something to help with the pain. It's okay."

He pressed the bottle to Kid's lips and he took a sip. He snorted and made a face.

"I know." Said Heyes. "It's probably bitter."

"Yeah."

"It'll help though Kid, okay. Take some more."

Heyes got a few more sips into him before Kid made it clear that he'd had enough. Heyes laid him back down again and with a small smile of thanks, returned the bottle to Belle.

Heyes felt wrung out. Curry was so weak and that panic attack had sucked away even more of what little strength he'd had left. The top blanket was damp with blood, and even though Belle continued to change the dressings on the wounds, the white clothes just continued to turn red as the blood continued to seep out.

Heyes wiped a clean patch of his shirt sleeve across his eyes and was surprised to find tears on his cheeks. He closed his eyes and sighed and again wondered how much longer that Doctor was going to be. Just how long could they hold on? He opened his eyes again and looked at Kid and was surprised to find those brilliant blue eyes staring at him, clear and bright and as focused as they'd been the night before.

"Han, do you really think we should be doing this?" Kid asked him in a voice clear and strong. "You know my pa will tan both our hides if he finds out."

Heyes was taken aback. His mouth opened but for a couple of beats, nothing came out.

"Yeah, Jed. Don't worry about it." Heyes finally stammered. "Everything's alright."

Jed nodded and smiled a smile of trusting innocence. Then he closed his eyes and lay his head back down again. A sigh escaped him. The room was heavy with silence, even Jay had stopped crying and lay nestled in his sister's arms, aware that the world was on hold.

Heyes felt hot tears burning behind his eyes. 'I'm loosing him.' He thought to himself. 'I'm loosing him and there's nothing I can do about it.'

Then the sound of horses galloping into the yard broke everyone out of their trance. The Doctor had arrived.

Doctor David Gibson was a young man about the same age as Curry, but that was where any similarity between the two men ended. Gibson was a handsome young man, with dark hair and eyes, like Heyes' but he was taller than Heyes, over six foot and therefore appeared slimmer (if that's possible). He was born in Philadelphia and grew up in a loving, wealthy family full of doctors. It was a family tradition and totally taken for granted that any sons born in the Gibson line would fallow the proper footsteps and pursue a career in the medical profession.

David was somewhat in the middle of six siblings and had done exactly what was expected of him by following his brothers into medicine. Then when it became time to set up his own practice he had done something totally unexpected and shocking to the whole family—he moved west.

Life as a doctor in Philadelphia was boring and predictable and David wanted something more than that. Medicine ran in the Gibson family for sure, but David was given more than just the parental expectation to choose that for a career, he was given a gift. He was a natural healer. He had an instinct for it. In everything that he learned he was able to take it one step further, to expand beyond what was already known and turn it to practical use. He improved on old methods and techniques and seemed to be able to see how and why something should work. He had a successful and lucrative career ahead of him, perhaps even an authorship.

Then out of the blue, he packed up and moved. Of course his family was shocked! He was suppose to stay in Philadelphia, set up practice within the family business, marry the girl next door (who was also from a long line of medical men) and become a part of the Gibson family dynasty. Why in the world would he want to give all that up and move out to the middle of nowhere to set up a tiny practice in a tiny town where all he could hope to work with would be cowboys and dirt farmers! How was he supposed to make a name for himself way out THERE!?

Fortunately for the people of Brookswood and the surrounding area David had his own ideas about what made a successful practice and treating society ladies suffering from a touch of "the vapors" wasn't it! He had stopped in Brookswood on his way to Denver and decided then and there that he had found his place in the west. He bought a quaint little house on a quiet street, had put up his shingle and was open for business within the week. That had been three years ago.

Now, on this chilly, but promising spring morning David had been enjoying his first cup of coffee and had gone into his office next to the living room to review his list of patients for the day. He hadn't been at if for long when his young (and of course, pretty.) wife Tricia had entered his office and announced that they had a visitor. David had then entered the sitting room and found himself in the presence of a mountain of a man wearing a deputy's badge.

"Ah." David commented, trying to get over the illogical feeling of intimidation that was simply based on the man's shoe size. "What can I do for you, Mister…?"

"Shoemacher, Mike Shoemacher."

"Well, ah, nice to meet you Mr. Shoemacher. What seems to be the problem today?"

"Shooting. Out at the Jordan place."

"What!?" David was taken off guard. "My goodness! How long ago?"

"Oh, I suppose about half an hour."

"You suppose?!" Exclaimed David as he rushed around gathering together all the items he calculated he would need on such a call. "How serious is it?"

"If he's still alive I guess it's serious enough." Commented Shoemacher casually. "It's just an outlaw though and he's probably bled to death by now anyways. Still, best if you come out just in case."

David was slack jawed for a moment. He couldn't believe the callousness of this man. Surely even an outlaw deserved more regard than what was being displayed here.

He got everything he needed together, grabbed his standby carpet bag containing bandaging and wound dressings and then hurried into the kitchen where he gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm sorry Tricia, no time for breakfast I'm afraid."

"Yes I know, I heard." She assured her husband. She was actually quite accustomed to him running off to some emergency or another and often in the middle of the night. This was nothing new for a doctor's wife. "I'll expect to see you when I see you."

David gave her a quick appreciative smile and then dashed out the door and down to the livery to have his horse saddled. He considered taking the surrey instead of riding, but decided that a horse under saddle could move a lot faster than one hitched to a cart so the animal was made ready. His trusty little chestnut gelding was also accustomed to the unscheduled mad dashes out to wherever and he stood quietly but at attention while David attached the various pieces of luggage to the saddle. Leading the animal out of the livery, David mounted up and somehow found a way to settle into the saddle in amongst all the other accessories that had been tied to it. Shoemacher sat his horse calmly while the Doctor got prepared, finding the whole procedure rather humourous and in his mind totally unnecessary. Then they were on their way heading out of town at a gallop towards the Double J ranch.

David entered the ranch house carrying some of his supplies, with Shoemacher following him lugging the rest. David took a quick look around the room and his gaze took in and processed everything in an instant. The Jordan family he of course already knew and it came as no surprise to find Belle standing over the patient doing everything she could to tend to the injury. Jesse was in attendance and assisting where he could and the two girls were present, but staying out of the way and tending to their brother. He noticed Sam standing back looking a little ashen faced, but the other men in attendance were strangers to him.

"I take it you're the doctor?" Morrison asked him.

"Yes. What have we got here?"

"Rifle shot in the shoulder." Morrison answered him. "Bullet went in the front and out the back and he's lost a lot of blood. If you can save him, fine. If not—oh well."

The Doctor was getting a little tired of this callous attitude being shown by the lawmen and sent a rather scalding glare back at the sheriff. Then he hurried over to the man lying on the table taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves as he went. He placed his bag on the table beside the young man's legs and indicated with a look to Shoemacher where he wanted the rest of his supplies placed.

"Hi David" Jesse greeted him. "Sure is good to see you."

Belle smiled a greeting at him and quickly moved out of his way. David nodded to them and then quietly scanned his patient, taking in all the information that the physical condition of the man could tell him.

"How long ago did this happen?" He asked.

"A little over an hour now." Jesse answered him.

Heyes couldn't believe it. An hour? Is that all? It seemed like an eternity since he had gone out to the barn to talk to his friend.

David nodded, then he looked to his patient again, putting a hand on his chest to check his breathing and heart rate, feeling his skin and lifting an eyelid to check the pupils.

"Has he regained consciousness at all?"

"Once." Jesse answered. "Just after we got him inside."

David nodded. "Was he lucid? Did he know what was going on?"

There was a beat of silence, no one quite sure how to answer that one.

Finally again, Jesse gave the answer. "Yes and no. He panicked at first, but calmed down when he saw his partner, and then he sort of…well, he…"

"He went back to when we were kids." Heyes finished.

"Ah." Said David. "He regressed."

"What's that?" Asked Heyes.

"What you just said." David explained. "Went back to childhood memories."

"Oh. Is that normal?"

"It happens sometimes." David answered, not wanting to mention that it usually did not bode well.

Then David took a moment to assess the man standing across the table from him. One look into those dark brown eyes told him all he needed to know. The worry and the strain was evident and the amount of blood on his person, starting at the tips of his dark hair and covering him all the way down to his boots indicated he had been in close and constant contact with the stricken man. This was a friend or family member who needed to be treated with as much sensitivity and care as the patient himself.

"What's your name?" David asked him.

"What?...oh, ahh..Josh…no…Heyes. Hannibal Heyes."

David was taken aback for an instant. He hadn't expected to hear a name he would actually recognize. He had heard faint rumours that the Jordan's were on friendly terms with the outlaws Heyes and Curry, but in the three years that he had known the family, there had never been any hint of it. If these men were Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry that would certainly explain why there were so many guns present and why the lawmen were being so cautious. But for now, these men were his patient and a very worried friend, and that's how Dr. Gibson would treat them.

"My name is David Gibson." David introduced himself to Heyes. "And I'm going to do everything I possibly can to save your friend."

Heyes gave him a weak smile. "Thanks Doc."

"I'm going to need you to help me with some things though. Are you up to that?"

"Of course."

"What are you two talking about?" Morrison demanded. "Speak up so's we can all hear what you're saying!"

David sent the sheriff another nasty look and then brought his attention back to his patient.

Heyes felt an instant liking towards this young doctor. It was obvious that he was highly intelligent and Heyes could relate to that. But he also did not suffer fools or bullies lightly and Heyes suspected he may have found himself another ally.

His assessment of the patient done David then quickly went to work, explaining things as he went. He took a pair of heavy scissors from his satchel and began cutting away Curry's shirt and undergarment.

"Okay, we need to get these clothes off of him, so Hannibal if you could just pull the cloth away as I'm cutting. Yes, that's good. Now Jesse lift him up just a little and pull away the shirt from under him and be careful of the wound there. Pull the material away from it gently. That's right. Now Belle, get in there with the padding and staunch that bleeding if you can. Okay, lay him back down again Now, we pull this sleeve off away from the wound here. Good. Belle, some more padding please. Good. Now don't throw that shirt away, we need to hang on to it until I'm sure that none of the material has stayed inside the wound.

Jesse, could you pull that carpet bag over here and get me some more padding? Bridget!"

Bridget jumped, startled out of her fear trance.

"Could you heat up some water please? But not too hot, just so we can wash some of this blood away."

"Yes, alright." Bridget answered and hurried into the kitchen.

David sent a quick glance to Beth. She was sitting in an armchair, rocking herself and cradling little JJ in her arms. She was softly humming. In her numb mind she was doing it to keep her baby brother quiet and still, but in reality it was doing exactly that for herself. David decided to leave her to it.

He then took a small glass bottle out of his satchel and popped the cork

"Okay Belle, I need you to let me get at the wound here."

Belle removed the padding from Curry's shoulder and blood instantly started to seep out again, but David quickly poured some of the clear fluid into the wound and it instantly began to froth and fizz and then was absorbed into the flesh.

"What's that?" Asked Heyes.

"Carbolic Acid. It'll clean and disinfect the wound. It's a good thing he's unconscious otherwise it would hurt like hell. Belle, if you could clean up that blood again. Thank you. Now I need to examine that wound to make sure there is nothing foreign in there, so you have to keep it clean so I can see what I'm doing. It won't be easy, just do the best you can."

"Yes, alright."

David brought out some small forceps and carefully began to open the lips on the wound. Belle did her best to wipe away the blood as it emerged without hindering David in his examination. The forceps were gently inserted into the wound and David focused intently on feeling any change in the resistance or any sound of metal on metal to suggest an object inside.

Heyes couldn't help but be fascinated watching the man work. He was an artist, no doubt about it. His long slender fingers gently probing, examining, searching for anything that wasn't what it should be. And all the while that his fingers were busy, his eyes would be glancing here and looking there, making sure that the physical symptoms hadn't changed, that the patients colouring hadn't paled further or the rhythmic breathing hadn't slowed anymore. Heyes felt like an ignorant fool beside this man and for once he was thankful for it. Here was someone who could help..

"Okay." David took a deep breath and straightened up. "There's nothing in there, it's clean."

Bridget showed up with a basin full of water a little sooner than expected.

"Momma had already heated some water for breakfast so it was already there. I just had to find a basin to put it in."

"Good." David answered her. "Well done. If you could just put it on that chair beside Hannibal."

Bridget looked to Joshua and did as she was instructed.

"Thank you Bridget." Joshua smiled at her and she gave a weak smile back then put a hand on his shoulder and stayed close.

"Okay, Hannibal here's a cloth if you could just wash him down, get rid of as much of this old blood as you can, and then," he reached into the carpet-bag and pulled out a towel. "You can dry him off with this."

Heyes accepted his new duty and soaking the cloth in the warm water he began to gently wash his friend, trying to remove the drying blood from his torso and then his face and his hair. Then he moved down his left arm and then the hand, then did his best to remove the blood from under and around the Kid's finger nails. Bridget followed after him with the towel, drying Thaddeus off as they went. Never once did it occur to Heyes that he could have benefited from just such a sponge bath himself, all he could see was the blood on his friend.

In the mean time, David had pulled more supplies out of his satchel. He sprinkled some white powder into the shoulder wound, watched it being absorbed and then sprinkled some more.

"What's that?" Asked Belle

"It's morphine powder. It's a powerful painkiller. It can also be taken orally so I will be leaving quite a bit of this with you."

Then David took out a small case, and took from it a curved needle and some suturing thread and began to quickly stitch the lips of the bullet wound together. Belle continued to sop up blood as it appeared, but the more David was able to close and stitch the wound, the less blood there was until finally it had stopped flowing altogether.

Both David and Belle took a deep breath and relaxed for a moment. David checked on Heyes' and Bridget's progress and seeing that they were about done got prepared for the next step.

"Okay Hannibal. We need to get your friend onto his side now so I can examine the exit wound, but I don't want him lying fully on his chest so you'll have to support him. Here's a clean padding to put again the shoulder wound and keep pressure on it, but don't support him there, just keep a light pressure. Use your own body if you have to to block him from rolling onto his chest okay?"

"Yeah, okay Doc. Here, Bridget come over to my other side, use your body to support his hips alright?"

"Alright Joshua"

This was the second time David had noticed the familiarity between Hannibal and the eldest Jordan girl. In fact, the whole Jordan family did seem to be on intimate terms with these outlaws and that would certainly give some credit to the rumours he had heard. It was obviously no coincidence that these men had ended up here at the Double J and if there was opportunity he was curious enough to want to ask about that—at a later date of course. In the mean time, back to business.

"Okay Jesse, help me roll him over onto his side. Easy."

They got Curry rolled over quickly and gently, and Heyes and Bridget actually got up and sat on the table in order to support the wounded man and prevent him from rolling over too far. Then David and Belle began the procedure all over again.

David's jaw tightened and he subtly shook his head when he got a good look at the damage the bullet had done when it exited the man's body. Then he quickly relaxed his features and reminded himself not to do that. It tended to give the wrong impression and elevate the worry and stress level in the family members and friends who might be in attendance.

Again, he poured on the carbolic acid and Belle kept the area as clean as she could while David put his magic fingers to work again, trying to determine the internal damage done to the shoulder.

"Yeah." He said, more to himself than anybody else. Then; "The bullet went right through the shoulder blade and has shattered it. There's going to be a lot of bone splinters in there. I'm not going to be able to remove them under these conditions and he's probably too weak to survive such a lengthy procedure anyways. We can deal with that later, preferably in a hospital, when he's stronger. In the mean time, the arm and shoulder are going to have to be completely immobilized and there's no telling how much damage has been done to the nerves and muscles. He'll probably never get full use of this arm back again."

Heyes inwardly groaned. Kid wasn't going to like the sound of that.

David got his forceps again and began searching inside the wound. Within seconds he smiled and pulled out a piece of material.

"Here, Jesse. I think this is part of the undershirt. Can you check it with the hole in the garment and see if it matches?"

"Sure Doc."

Jesse took the saturated piece of material and went over to where they had laid out Thaddeus' shirts. In the mean time David went back to probing for the second piece of material from Curry's outer shirt. He was optimistic that he would find it when suddenly he froze and a look of concern flashed across his face.

"What?" Heyes asked him.

"He's stopped breathing."

"WHAT!?" Heyes went from calm assistant to frantic partner in less than an instant. "WELL DO SOMETHING! GET HIM BACK!"

The dynamics in the room changed in a flash. Beth ran over to stand by her sister, Belle and Jesse were back at the table and the lawmen, who had all been insisting on indifference were suddenly tense and alert, unable to avoid getting caught up in the stress of the situation.

Heyes was off the table and shaking his partner, frantic to get some sign of life.

"Quickly!" Said David. "Get him on to his back again! Jesse, Hannibal, pull him up to the end of the table until his head just tips back over the edge. DO IT! NOW! QUICKLY!"

It was David's turn to get up on the table. Instantly he checked the Kid's positioning, making sure that his head was tilted back just enough for his mouth to open and the air passage to his lungs to be unhindered. He took the chance of causing more damage to the shoulder by lifting both of Curry's arms over his head and saw the sutures he had just put in place start to tear. Oh well, that was second priority now. He had to get this man breathing again.

David put his hands together, palms down, one on top of the other and placed them in the middle of Curry's chest just below the breast bone and then pressed down. He released and then pressed down again and repeated this action a number of times putting his whole body into it and breaking out into a sweat with the exertion and the stress. He stopped, put an ear to Curry's chest and then to his mouth, listening, praying that there would be some stirring of life. Nothing. Back to the chest compressions.

Heyes was beside himself. His hands were up, clutching at his hair, the forgotten handcuffs dangling from his left wrist. He felt his chest and throat tightening up again and tears burning behind his eyes, then spilling out to roll down his face. He thought he was going to explode.

"COME ON! YOU'RE A DOCTOR! YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO SAVE PEOPLE! SAVE HIM! GET HIM BACK!"

"I'M TRYING!"

David couldn't believe he was loosing this man! He couldn't lose him, not now! They were so close. Come on, breath! Another quick check, listening, praying for any response. Nothing. Back to compressions.

Jesse moved over to stand by Heyes and put a supporting hand on his friend's arm. Heyes was finding it hard to breath, he was gasping, perspiration mingling with the tears and blood on his face.

"Oh God Jesse, no." Heyes whispered. "What'll I do without him? Come on Kid, come on. Breath. You can't give up now! COME ON!"

Then finally, Kid gave a barely audible sigh and took a breath. David pounced on it! An ear and a hand to Curry's chest. Yes! Something was happening. Back to the compressions, desperate to keep it going, like stoking a barely flickering flame on a windy wet night.

Belle had moved over to stand with her children and now everyone in the room except Curry was holding their breath, waiting with strained anticipation, grabbing on to that little bit of hope.

David continued to work. Pump, pump, pump. Stop, ear to the chest. Yes. It was getting stronger. Pump, pump, pump. Stop, ear to the chest. Pump, pump, pump. David sat back on his heels, waiting, watching, seeing if Curry could continue breathing on his own. Then, yes! There it was. The slow, gentle rise and fall of his chest. Curry was breathing again.

There was a collective sigh of relief. Everyone felt weak in the knees.

"Okay." Said David as he climbed down from the table. "That's obviously it for today. He needs time to rest and get some strength back. Sheriff, if one of your men could find that bullet and see if the remaining material came out with it, that would save me from having to go into that wound again."

"Yeah, sure." Morrison agreed. "Sam, go see if you can find it. It's probably embedded in the side of that barn."

"Okay Sheriff." Sam answered weakly. He locked gazes with Jesse and then quickly looked away as he headed out the front door.

Jesse wasn't sure what happened there. His mind was so exhausted from the events of the morning that it wasn't able to grasp the significance of that exchange between Sam and Morrison. But the alarm bells were going off and the seed of suspicion had been planted.

Then Morrison continued. "We'll have to borrow your buckboard Jordan, so we can get Curry into town."

Everyone looked at Morrison in disbelief.

"This man is not going anywhere Sheriff." Said David. "Didn't you hear me? He needs rest. The only moving he's going to be doing is from the table to a bed and that's it!"

"It's too risky to leave him here. He's dangerous."

"He's hardly dangerous now, Sheriff." David shot back. "He's not even conscious! You can leave a man here to guard him if you feel it's necessary, but if you try to move him in a buckboard now you will kill him. That is not an educated guess; that is a guarantee!"

"Fine!" Morrison finally had to accept that. "But he will be under guard, and I want to see the room where he'll be kept. I want to be sure we can make it secure."

"I'll show you Sheriff." Jesse offered, and then giving Heyes a reassuring pat on the shoulder took Morrison in to the room under the staircase where Heyes and the Kid had been sleeping during their stay at the ranch.

Heyes felt all done in. He had to get outside for some air or he felt he was going to faint. He placed a hand on the Kid's shoulder to reassure himself that his skin was warm and that there truly was life in his cousin's body. Heyes smiled, then David met his glance and a silent 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' passed between them. Then Heyes, forgetting that he was in custody and was supposed to stay put headed out onto the front porch to give himself a chance to recuperate.

David began again. With Belle helping they managed to get Curry pulled back down from the end of the table and then focused on getting him cleaned up and the shoulder immobilized.

Heyes stood out on the porch to the right of the front door, leaning against the post and railing. It was still just mid morning—couldn't be any later than 10:00 a.m. but it seemed to Heyes that an eternity had passed. Sam had let the dogs out of the bunk house and all three of them were out there by the first barn sniffing around the ground where Curry had fallen. Fortunately most of the blood had seeped into the dirt by this time so the animals had little more than the scent to go on. Sam was over at the barn too, running his hands along the wooden structure and scanning it with his eyes, seeking the elusive bullet.

Heyes stood there taking all this in, but feeling nothing. He didn't really know what he was supposed to be feeling, what he was expected to be feeling. But tears still pooled in his eyes and occasionally spilled out and rolled down his cheeks. He didn't seem to be able to stop them and yet he didn't feel like he was crying but he must be, so why couldn't he feel it?

Then from the corner of his eye Heyes saw a blurry image of Belle as she stepped out through the front door.. She had noticed Heyes leave the group and stagger out onto the porch, so calling Bridget over to carry on helping David, Belle wiped her hands on a towel and followed the young man outside.. Heyes turned away from her, feeling embarrassed. She smiled slightly at his discomfort and put a gentle hand on his arm. He still wouldn't look at her.

"I'm sorry." He finally said to her.

"Joshua, don't be silly." She gently admonished him. "We all know how important Thaddeus is to you, how close the two of you are."

Heyes nodded, his throat tightening. Of course now he felt like he was crying. Couldn't come on him when he was alone—no! Had to be when Belle was present. His embarrassment grew but he decided to ignore it. "He's the only family I have left."

Belle squeezed his arm. "No Joshua, that's not entirely true. You know that Jesse and I both think of you and Thaddeus as family. The girls love you like brothers. Well at least Bridget does, Beth seems to have other designs."

Heyes had to smile at that.

"We'll always be here to support you no matter what happens, you know that."

Heyes turned somber again, he raised his eyes and looked at Belle straight on—tears be damned.

"But we always seem to bring trouble to you and your family Belle, whenever we show up. Why would you want to be supportive of that?"

"Isn't that what families are for?"

Heyes smiled again. "What, bringing trouble or being supportive?"

"Both!"

They both laughed at little at that, but then Heyes turned away again and looked off into the middle distance—little boy lost.

Belle's heart went out to him. She felt she had to give him something to hold on to so she quickly made a decision about something that she had originally planned on keeping to herself.

"Well Joshua. " She began. "I have it on good authority that Thaddeus can't die right now, so you don't need to worry about him so much."

Heyes turned a skeptical eye her way. "Really."

"Yes. Beth made me promise not to tell Thaddeus, but she never said anything about not telling you, so, here it is." She continued. "About three years ago, shortly after we moved to Denver Beth came to me and told me that she'd had a premonition."

"A premonition?"

"Yes. She said that she was certain that we would be seeing you boys again, because she and Thaddeus were bound together in this life, that the two of them had something important to accomplish."

"Really?" Heyes said again, only more curious than skeptical this time. "Does she know what this something is?"

"No. It wasn't that specific. She has herself convinced that it's of a romantic nature but I have a feeling that it's something more than that."

"And does she get these premonitions often?" Asked Heyes, still skeptical but interested all the same.

"No, not often." Belle admitted. "But when she does, they usually come to pass. I can't explain it. Neither can she. She just knows. So you see." Belle continued with a smile. "Thaddeus can't die, not right now anyways, because then he wouldn't be here to help Beth accomplish their task—whatever that's going to be."

Heyes sighed deeply. He wasn't convinced that he believed in 'premonitions', but the possibility of it did give him some hope.

Suddenly they heard Morrison's booming voice from inside the house.

"Where's Heyes!?"

Then a quieter response; "He's just out on the porch with Mrs. Jordan. We're keeping an eye on him."

Heyes was instantly on the defensive. He took a deep breath as he straightened up trying to compose himself, and quickly wiped both sleeves over his eyes and face hoping to clean away any signs of tears. Belle was one thing, but Heyes promised himself something right then and there; the law was never again going to see him cry.

Then the front door slammed open and Morrison pounced on Heyes, pushing him into the wall of the house and cuffing his hands behind him again.

"Sheriff, please…" Belle began, angry at the unnecessary show of force.

But Morrison just glared at her and dragged Heyes along the porch and down the steps to the ground. Jack and Rick had followed the sheriff outside in order to keep a closer eye on their prisoner, leaving Mike inside to keep guard over Curry—hardly a taxing job at the moment. Jesse knew that Thaddeus was in safe hands so long as the doctor and the two girls were present, so he decided to join the group outside as his regard for Morrison was dwindling more and more as the morning progressed. Noticing the rough handling that Heyes was already receiving from the lawman Jesse was convinced he had made the right choice.

Then Sam came running over from the barn, quite excited with his obvious success.

"I found it Sheriff!" Sam announced. "See, here it is. And here's the material with it. Doc ought to be happy about that."

"Good work son." Morrison said as he took the bullet from him and shoved it into his pocket. "And Sam, I meant to tell you, you've done a fine job here for us. Your Pa would be real proud of you."

Sam's excitement suddenly disappeared, and he looked decidedly uncomfortable as he avoided meeting the gaze of either Jesse or Heyes. "Yeah, thank you Sheriff." He mumbled.

Heyes and Jesse exchanged looks. Suddenly it all made sense. All the little nuances' that on their own didn't amount to anything, but put them together and suddenly there's a trap being laid. Sam showing up just when the Jordan's needed a hand. Sam bonding with the dogs so they would listen to him, getting them used to being in the bunkhouse at night, out of the way. His sudden and convenient girlfriend in town, even though he had been showing interest in Bridget. And then Thaddeus' horse coming up lame on the very morning the boys had been planning on leaving.

Heyes' jaw and fists tightened and the glare he sent Sam would have set the lad's knees to shaking if he had seen it.

A small gasp coming from the porch caused heads to turn, and there was Bridget, staring at Sam, her hand to her mouth, stricken to the heart.

Sam started towards her, to say anything, to apologize, but Bridget turned her back on him and ran back into the house. Belle quickly fallowed. Some hurt feelings were going to be in need of comforting

"Sam!" Morrison got his attention. "Do you know which horse is his?" He asked him, gesturing towards Heyes.

"Yeah Sheriff."

"Good. Go get it saddled up will you. Time we got this business over with. You two." He added, looking at Jack and Rick. "Keep an eye on Heyes, and don't let him out of your sight this time! Apparently I need to remind you that the main reason these two have yet to be brought to trial is because every lawman and bounty hunter in the whole damn country tend to underestimate this man!" He glared at Heyes and then stomped back into the house to HOPEFULLY get events going in the right direction. .

Jesse moved over to Heyes, very much aware of and annoyed by the scrutiny of the two deputies.

"I'm sorry about this Joshua. Obviously Sam's been in on it all along."

"Yeah. I hope Bridget's going to be alright."

"It's been one hell of a morning."

"Hmmm."

Inside the barn, Sam was busy getting Karma saddled up and ready, but his thoughts were miles away. This wasn't anything like what he thought it would be. He had been so looking forward to this moment when the trap would be sprung and Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry would finally be in custody, but it just didn't go the way he had imagined. When he thought of outlaws, he always pictured them as ignorant, brutal people who didn't deserve any respect or consideration but these two men, in opposite ways, were nothing like that. Indeed, as Sam thought back on the time he had spent with Curry the previous day it occurred to him that he might even have come to like the man if circumstances had been different.

Heyes was another matter though. Heyes frightened him. Even now, when he was at a definite disadvantage and scared to death over the fate of his friend, Sam found the man intimidating. It's funny, he would have thought Curry would have been the intimidating one. Then he cringed as he remembered his arrogance of the previous evening, thinking that he would be capable of arresting that man all on his own. Thank goodness he hadn't tried it! Heyes would have taken him apart and the whole operation would have been blown.

Even Morrison had cautioned them all that during the set up and arrest, Curry would be the one to watch. Not to let his quiet manner and amiability fool them. He was the dangerous one, he was the killer. But once they were in custody Heyes was the one who would need watching. 'Capturing Hannibal Heyes was like trying to grab a river trout with your bare hands' Morrison had said. 'If you were very lucky and everything went according to plan you just might be able to snag him, but it was another matter altogether to hold onto him!' And Sam believed it. There was just something in the man's eyes. He might be an outlaw, but he was no fool.

Sam finished getting Karma ready and then led her out of the barn. Buck watched them go and sent a little nicker after her, wondering where she was going and if he would be joining her. It would be nice to get out on some grass again.

Once outside, Karma spotted her human across the yard and with head down and ears up she quickly walked towards him, leading Sam along with her. She was hoping that maybe they could get out for another gallop like they had yesterday. That had been fun. She got up to him and nudged him a little and nibbled on his shirt. Heyes smiled at her and spoke a quiet greeting, but didn't touch her. Karma felt a little put out, 'What, no scratch on the neck? No head hug?' She rubbed her head against his chest and gave him a little bit of a stronger nudge, but still nothing. She began to sense something was wrong; he smelled funny. He wasn't responding to her the way he normally did.

Karma nibbled at the sleeve of his henley then followed his arm around behind him and found the metal bracelet around his wrist. Well this was something she knew about. Heyes smiled as he felt her lips investigating the handcuffs and then her warm breath and soft tongue moistening his hands. He knew there was nothing she would be able to do to free him this time, but she sure was trying. Her teeth nibbled at the metal links attaching the cuffs but try as she might she couldn't get a good hold on them. Every time she tried to bite down on them, they just slipped out of her grasp and her teeth would snap together with a loud 'click'.

Sam who was standing and watching the front door of the ranch house, thinking about Bridget had been brought back to reality with a jolt. Feeling that he had not been paying attention to his duties and had missed something with what the mare was doing, he made the big mistake of over-reacting.

"Hey! Cut that out!" He yelled at her, then gave her a sharp jerk on the mouth with the reins.

Karma's face tightened with pain, she threw her head up and reared backwards pulling Sam with her for a few yards before she broke free of him. Then, blowing in agitation, with head and tail up she danced away from him and galloped to the far end of the yard before turning to see what was going to happen next.

Heyes was already on the edge, and he had already been thinking thoughts along the criminal lines where that little upstart of a lawman wanna be was concerned and seeing Sam abuse Karma Lou like that was all it took to push him right over that edge.

With a snarl of pent up anger and frustration, Heyes ducked his head and charged, catching an unprepared Sam in the midriff with his right shoulder. Heyes heard and felt the air explode from Sam's lungs and then both men were sprawled in the dirt scrambling for the upper hand. Within seconds Jack and Rick, whose egos were still bruised from the chewing out they'd received, had charged in and joined the battle. Sam was unceremoniously dragged out from under Heyes and pushed to the side like a gasping sack of baby potatoes, and then they turned on the prisoner and began to kick and punch him into submission.

There's no telling how long the beating would have gone on for if Jesse hadn't been there. A quiet man igniting, Jesse's adrenaline was pumping and he was into the middle of the fray before too many blows had found their mark. Grabbing one deputy and then the other Jesse easily sent them sprawling back towards the porch where they were quickly back on their feet and ready to charge into round two. Meanwhile, Heyes, cat like, had rolled away and scrambled to his feet as well, blood running from his nose and a split lip. He yelled his challenge and began his charge again and then Jesse was there, standing between them with arms spread and palms out, keeping the three combatants apart through the sheer force of his presence.

"JOSHUA! STOP!" Then the palm turned into an accusing finger, pointing at Heyes, bringing him to an instant, trembling, raging halt. "You remember what we discussed about choices!" It was not a question. "YOU REMEMBER!"

Breathing anger, adrenaline still pumped, Heyes fought against Jesse's force of will for the beat of an eternity and then he broke eye contact and submitted to the older man at a time when he would never have submitted to any other.

Tensions started to relax as everyone backed off. Sam was still sitting in the dust, hugging his torso and trying to pull air back into his lungs.

Morrison was suddenly on the porch, practically purple with anger.

"What the Devil is going on out here!? Do I have to be everywhere at once!? Bloody tarnation! Can't you men even handle one prisoner in handcuffs!?"

The two deputies looked a little put out at being reprimanded yet again and glared daggers over to Heyes who was beginning to calm down and getting himself under control again.

"Just a little misunderstanding Sheriff." Jesse answered him. "Things are under control again."

"Misunderstanding!?" Morrison yelled. "Looks like the bloody Indian Wars all over again. Sam! Go catch that damn mare!"

"NO! Jesse, please!" Heyes was begging him. "Please! Don't let them take her! I'm giving her to you! Don't let them take her off the ranch!"

"You got no say in this!" Morrison yelled at Heyes, coming down the steps towards the group of men. "As soon as you were arrested everything you owned became the property of the Wyoming courts!"

"Well, we're not in the Territory of Wyoming, Sheriff." Jesse countered. "So taking that into consideration, it appears to me that Mr. Heyes here does not own any property. That mare now belongs to the Double J."

Morrison fumed. Jack looked a little disappointed. As soon as he had spotted the mare coming out of the barn he had designs of bidding on her himself. Now it appeared that wasn't going to happen.

"Fine." Morrison snarled. "Sam! Go saddle up Curry's horse. Heyes can ride in on that one."

Sam hesitated, still rubbing his chest.

"Ahhh, Sheriff…"He began hesitantly.

"WHAT!"

"Curry's horse is lame, he can't go anywhere."

Morrison was into a slow burn. He glared at Jesse as though all this were his fault.

"What is it with you people?" The Sheriff asked him. "This man…"And he pointed an accusing finger in Heyes' direction. "Is one of the most wanted outlaws in the Wyoming Territory. He's a cardsharp, a conman and a thief! He has cost the banks and railroads thousands of dollars! And you're treating him like he's one of the family!"

"Everyone can make mistakes Sheriff, doesn't mean he can't turn things around if he's given the chance."

Morrison scowled. "Don't give me that amnesty nonsense! That's a rumour at best and it's never going to happen. That man is going to prison and if Curry survives he'll be joining him there." Then he turned to his deputies. "Jack, you can stay here and watch Curry and Heyes'll ride your horse in to town."

"Yeah, alright Sheriff." Jack answered, sounding a little disappointed.

"I know we're all tired." Morrison told him. "As soon as Rick gets some sleep I'll send him out to relieve you."

Jack nodded and headed up the steps and into the house.

"Alright!" Morrison continued. "Let's get this show on the road!"

Bridget ran into the house, trying to hold back the tears until she could get somewhere private

She had been busy helping Dr. Gibson get Thaddeus' shoulder bandaged up when Beth had decided that Jay was drowsy enough to go back to his room for a nap, and then she had joined them at the table. It was obvious to David that Beth wanted to help, but didn't know what to do. He smiled at her and got her to hold the dressing in place while he and Bridget wrapped the bandages.

At this point Jesse and Morrison exited the bedroom and came back over to the table.

"How much longer are you going to be with him Doc?" Morrison asked.

David barely glanced at the man, his dislike for him was so intense.

"Not much longer." He answered. "But I want to make sure he's as comfortable as possible and that Belle will have all the supplies she'll need until I can get back out here again."

"Fine, but hurry it up will you." Morrison growled.

"It would help if your man could find that bullet."

Morrison snorted derisively, did a quick scan of the room and then froze.

"Where's Heyes?!" He bellowed and he headed for the front door under a full head of steam.

"He's just out on the porch with Mrs. Jordan." Rick answered as Morrison charged past him. "We're keeping an eye on him."

David breathed a sigh of relief as the area emptied of everyone but his two young assistants and Shoemacher, who at least was sitting out of the way and staying quiet. He smiled reassuringly at Beth again sensing that she seemed to be having the hardest time of it.

"You and your sister care a lot about this man, don't you?" He asked her.

She looked up at him through frightened eyes staring out of an ashen face.

"Yes." She mouthed the word, but hardly any sound came out.

"Have you known him a long time?" David was trying to keep her talking, get her mind focused and working again. Sixteen was awfully young to be having to deal with something like this.

"Yes." Beth answered, her voice coming easier this time. "About four years. They came to stay at our ranch for a while. He's really nice."

"So, can I count on you and your sister then, to look after him while he's here?"

"Oh yes!" Beth was adamant. "I'll look after him!"

"We'll look after him." Bridget had piped in, not wanting to be outdone.

David smiled. "Good." He said. "Then I can be rest assured that I'm leaving him in capable hands."

Both girls smiled.

"Bridget." David continued. "Could you step outside and see if anyone has found that bullet yet? I really would feel a lot better about patching him up if I knew for sure that I haven't left anything behind in there."

Bridget smiled and nodded. Then she had stepped out onto the porch just in time to hear the Sheriff complementing Sam on his 'good' work.

David had glanced up, surprised at Bridget's almost instant return, but when he saw the look on her face he realized that the errand she had been sent on was totally forgotten. Then, looking around, and not even acknowledging David and her sister, Bridget ducked into the spare room where Joshua and Thaddeus had been staying. Another drama unfolding.

Two beats later, Belle came in and not seeing her eldest daughter anywhere sent a questioning look over to the doctor. David nodded to the bedroom door, thinking to himself that this ranch house was suddenly busier than the Denver train station on the 4th of July. He shook his head in mild bewilderment and put his attention back on his patient and his young assistant.

Belle moved to the threshold of the bedroom and stood for a moment and watched her eldest daughter. This was certainly one of those hard lessons that life tends to throw at the young and inexperienced. Everything just hurts so much when you're young, things like deception and betrayal are new emotions and no coping mechanisms had been built up to deal with those things yet. Well Bridget was getting her first real taste of it now that was for sure.

Belle came in and sat down on the bed beside her daughter and put an arm around her. Bridget hugged her mother and cried into her shoulder.

"Oh Momma." She sobbed. "How could Sam do that? I thought he was our friend."

"I know sweetheart, but he obviously thought he was doing the right thing."

"But he lied to us, pretended to be someone he wasn't just to get us to trust him while he laid in wait!"

"Well, that's what someone working undercover for the law does. Didn't you say that that was acceptable as long as it was for the greater good?"

"But that's just to trap bad people! Not us! We're not bad people!"

"But who's to judge that Bridget? Who's to decide who is good and who is bad? To our way of seeing it, we're not bad people and neither are Joshua and Thaddeus. But to the law, Joshua and Thaddeus are criminals and using us to get to them was acceptable."

Bridget sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"I guess that's what Joshua was trying to tell me and I just couldn't see it." Bridget admitted. "I don't think I could ever do what Sam did."

Belle gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"Well, try not to be too hard on him. We don't know what his reasons were and I think he may already to feeling some regrets."

"A lot of good that does now!" Bridget answered bitterly.

"I know." Belle agreed with a sigh. "Well, I'd best get out there to help with Thaddeus, Beth looks to be a bit overwhelmed. You just stay quiet in here for a few minutes if you like and come out when you feel better."

"Yes Momma."

Bridget sat on the bed for some time trying to get her thoughts sorted out. So much for being a detective! She was never going to treat honest hard working folks like that! Sam should be ashamed of himself!

She heard Sheriff Morrison come in and talk to Dr. Gibson about the bullet, and then Morrison and Mike got to discussing their next move and how to make it. She really didn't want to go out into the common area while that Sheriff was there. She really didn't like him.

She wiped away the last of the tears and looked around the room. There was Joshua's hat setting on the dresser, he would probably be needing that. Thaddeus's hat was there too but that wasn't going to be going anywhere. There were their saddlebags and a navy shirt draped over the back of the chair. Then Bridget's heart skipped a beat as she spotted Joshua's holster and gun hanging off the same chair. She had a wild fleeting thought of grabbing his gun and forcing the Sheriff to release her friends but then she realized with a sinking heart just how foolish that would be. Even if she knew how to use a hand gun, she could never get the drop on all of them at once and it would just create more problems.

She stood up and went over to the chair and affectionately ran her hands along the material of Joshua's shirt. She picked it up and hugged it to her chest and then buried her face into its soft folds, taking in his scent and she felt the tears starting to come again. Then she felt something that wasn't quite right. There was an object, slender and hard neatly sown inside the collar. She looked around for something sharp and found a pocket knife on the dresser along with some coins and a few other nick naks. With the point of the knife, she carefully broke through the threads and pushed the object out into her hand. It was a lock pick. .

Bridget quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching her, then suddenly she heard more commotion outside and then her father yelling at someone. That was unusual. She could count on the fingers of her one hand how many times she had heard her father raise his voice and it always precluded trouble for someone!

Morrison started to curse, which dropped him even lower in her esteem and she heard him storm back out onto the porch again and then the yelling really began. She decided she had best to wait until things quieted down again so she draped the shirt back over the chair, grabbed Joshua's hat and hiding the pick inside it, waited an eternity before quietly making her way back out onto the porch.

She saw her father walking away from them across the yard to go catch the mare. Sam had moved Jack's gelding over to the porch so that Heyes could move up onto a higher step and then just reach across and slip his foot into the stirrup. Then with a couple of hands helping to steady him he was able to swing his other leg over the saddle and get mounted. And there he sat, looking a little dejected while he waited for the lawmen to get organized themselves.

"Joshua." Bridget called quietly to him and then casually walked down the steps to stand beside the horse. Heyes looked down at her. "I found your hat in the room and thought you might be needing it."

Heyes smiled. "Oh yes, Bridget. Thank you." And he leaned over to her so she could put the hat on his head.

It was while he was down, almost face to face with her that she showed him the lock pick and then quickly she slipped it inside his boot.

Heyes was startled. He wasn't quite sure if that was a good idea or not. Then they both jumped when Morrison suddenly came out of nowhere.

"Here there young lady." The Sheriff said as he took hold of Bridget's arm and pulled her back up onto the steps. "Best stay away from him. Even handcuffed he can be dangerous and I wouldn't want to see anything happen to you."

Heyes and Bridget exchanged small, knowing smiles. As if Joshua would ever do anything to hurt her!

Then the lawmen, including Sam were all mounting up and Heyes mouthed a silent 'goodbye' to his young friend. He sent one more disparaging look at the door of the house, wishing for one last look at his partner but it was not to be, and then they were riding away.

Sam held back a moment watching Bridget, but she avoided his gaze, then turned and went back into the house. Sam hung his head and then kicked his horse after the departing posse.

Heyes heard Karma whinny after him and it darn near broke his heart, but he did not look back. Everything and everyone who mattered to him were back at the Double J Ranch and he was being forced to leave them behind. When would he see Kid again? Would he ever see Kid again? The answer that came to him scared him more than prison itself.

TO BE CONTINUED

Note; I did some research into what was known about resuscitation in the 1880's and was quite surprised to learn that the professionals actually knew quite a bit. Some of their methods were a bit wacky, but David is smarter than the average small town doctor so he would have his method down pat. They were certainly aware of doing chest compressions in order to get air pumping into the lungs again. They had apparently abandoned mouth to mouth during that time period, believing that any air once expelled from the lungs would no longer be of any use

The term "regressed" probably wasn't in use at that time, but given David's intelligence and forward thinking, maybe he's the one who coined the phrase. Works for me!

I'm the first to admit that I have no real medical training so if I have insulted anyone with my ignorance, I apologize. Chalk it up to poetic license.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

AND SO IT BEGINS

The ride into Brookswood was one big blur to Heyes, he had too many other things on his mind. He was hardly aware of Morrison leading the procession with the halter rope attached to Heyes' horse firmly wrapped around his saddle horn. Mike was to Heyes' right with the rifle casually cradled in his left arm, but ominously aimed at the outlaw, nice and handy just in case, and Sam was riding along to Heyes' left, trying to remain inconspicuous. Heyes, as mentioned before, was hardly noticing.

What he was aware of was the lock pick inside his left boot. What he was thinking about, was just what exactly he intended to do about it. He could just leave it there until he was safe within the confines of a cell. Once the handcuffs were removed and everyone had settled for the night it would be no problem to retrieve the pick and make his escape. He had done that very thing so many times in the past it was like clockwork and that could easily be his next move. Still, he hesitated this time. What would he do then? In past circumstances Curry had been with him, waiting for Heyes to save the day, or hiding out in some pre-determined place, anticipating his arrival. But this time Curry was seriously wounded, unable to go anywhere. Sure Heyes could escape quite easily, but where would he go? He would have to leave his cousin behind. Heyes wouldn't be able to lay in wait and retrieve him later, the law would be waiting for just that kind of action. And what about the amnesty? Heyes could escape, lay in wait and maybe, with luck grab the Kid later, but then all those years of trying for their pardons would be wasted, that's even if he could get the Kid out.

The best Heyes could do, if he made a run for it, would be to head to Mexico and hope that the Kid would survive his wounds and get his pardon on his own. Quite a long shot actually, since Heyes making a run for it would probably cancel out any chance the Kid might have to get that amnesty Heyes' own freedom could end up costing the Kid twenty years, .Damn! Damned if you do and damned if you don't!

Heyes decided to fall back on plan B; when in doubt, wait and see what happens.

He felt eyes upon him and glanced over to meet Sam's inquisitive gaze but then the young man ducked his head and turned away, afraid to meet that dark, accusing stare.

Heyes sneered in disgust. That lad was going to have to develop a thicker skin if he planned on making a living knifing people in the back. His mood was bitter, and he didn't mind sharing it.

"Sam". Morrison called to the young man. "Ride on ahead and let the Sheriff in Brookswood know we're coming."

"Yeah, alright Sheriff." Sam pushed his horse forward into a lope, relieved to get away from the outlaw and to have something useful to do.

Forty minutes later the small posse jogged into town and turned in to the hitching rail in front of the Sheriff's office. Much to Morrison's disgust a small group of citizens had spotted them riding in and had begun to fallow them, pointing and mumbling to themselves along the way. By the time the mounted group had made it to their destination there was quite a crowd gathering.

This was exactly what Morrison had hoped to avoid. How had word gotten out? He scowled to himself, then decided to just ignore the populace and simply get on with the business at hand. The three lawmen dismounted and Heyes, seeing no alternative at the moment, swung his right leg over his horse's neck and slid to the ground. Mike instantly grabbed hold of him and, pulling him around the horses, headed him towards the steps leading to the office, trying to ignore the numerous comments bombarding them from the growing crowd.

"Yeah, that's Heyes alright." Came one comment. "I was in a bank they robbed a few years back."

Jeez, another eye witness, Heyes thought, had they really been that flippant about their identities? Yeah, they had.

"That's Hannibal Heyes?!" Came another incredulous voice. "Why, he's just a skinny little fellow!" Heyes gritted his teeth at that one. "With a name like 'Hannibal' I always thought he would be bigger than that!"

"My God! There's blood all over him!"

"Well, that would make sense. I heard one of them took a bullet. Looks like it was Curry."

"That's Hannibal Heyes? I was playing poker with him all afternoon yesterday! WOW! I'm never going to forget that game now!"

Yesterday afternoon? Heyes thought as he was being dragged into the Sheriff's office. That was only yesterday?

Once inside the office Morrison glared at Sam, who was by the desk taking refuge with the local deputy, who was also a young man awestruck by their new prisoner.

"I'm sorry Sheriff," Sam piped in before Morrison could start in on him. "Somehow everybody already knew you were bringing at least one of them in here today. That crowd was starting to gather before I even arrived."

Morrison calmed down and gave Sam a small smile. His nerves were on edge dealing with these two outlaws and he knew he had been taking it out on his men. Everybody needed some rest.

"I know Sam." The Sheriff answered him. "I think it was that big mouth of a livery man who let everyone know something was up. It's alright. Just don't let any of them in for a visit!" Then he glanced around, puzzled. "Where is the Sheriff? I would have thought he'd want to be here for this."

"Ah, Sheriff Jacobs is out of town right now, attending his niece's wedding" Answered the local man (boy). "Ah, my name's Morin, sir, Joe Morin. I'm in charge here until the Sheriff gets back." He swallowed, and sent a quick glance over in Heyes' direction, obviously not wanting to be in charge of such an important prisoner.

"Oh that's just great." Morrison complained. "About the only right thing that has happened on this venture is that we actually captured Heyes and Curry."

Speak for yourself, Heyes thought to himself. As far as he was concerned that's about the only thing that hadn't gone right!

Morrison sighed and gave in to the inevitable. "Alright. Deputy..Morin is it?"

"Yes sir."

"If you could just show Deputy Shoemacher here where to lock up the prisoner and then if both of you could return here so we can go over the details and get the paperwork out of the way."

"Yes sir, Sheriff."

"Alright Sheriff. Come on Heyes, this way."

Mike escorted Heyes towards the heavy wooden door that led into the cell block and then waited for Joe to grab the keys and get the door open for them to carry on.

There was nobody else in the cell block on that particular day so Joe swung open the door to the cell closest to the entrance and Mike just casually pushed Heyes inside. Heyes just stood there, his back to the cell door and took in his new lodgings with a heavy heart. There was just one bunk in this cell, running length wise along the far wall and aside from the chamber pot in the corner that was about it. There wasn't even a window. The cell at the far end of the isle had a window and Heyes could hear people out there talking and laughing, and even caught his name being mentioned a couple of times but that just served to depress him even more.

Then Heyes heard the cell door swing shut and clang into place. He turned and looked at the large deputy.

"Ah, Mike? What about the cuffs?"

"Sorry Heyes." Mike answered. "Morrison has the keys. You're just going to have to wait for him."

Heyes slumped slightly in disappointment. His shoulders were beginning to ache and it would be nice to at least get the cuffs off. He watched as the two men exited the cell block and that heavy wooden door was closed and locked behind them. All of a sudden Heyes felt very much alone. He sighed, feeling a little sorry for himself and then went over to the bunk and sat down, pushing himself back and leaning into the corner of the cell. He closed his eyes hoping to maybe get some rest, collect his thoughts. But that didn't happen.

As soon as his eyes closed he heard the rifle shot again, felt the tremor go through Kid's body and then his friend falling over into him. Blood everywhere. Then Beth pleading; "Please don't die. Please don't die." Heyes jerked himself out of it. It had been bad enough going through that once, he didn't want to re-live it again. Unfortunately, now that he was alone and things had quieted down, worry over the fate of his cousin took hold on him and he wasn't going to be allowed to think on anything else.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity but had really only been half an hour, the heavy wooden door opened and Morrison came into the cell block. He unlocked the cell door and entered.

"Okay Heyes." He said. "On your feet, turn around."

It's about time, Heyes thought as he did as instructed. Finally getting these damn cuffs off.

But to Heyes' surprise, and disappointment the cuffs were not released. Instead, Morrison started another methodical search of Heyes' person, starting at his neck and shoulders and slowly working his way down.

"Another search Sheriff? Surely you don't think…"

"Quiet!"

Heyes closed his eyes, dreading the moment Morrison would reach his left boot. He knew the Sheriff would find it, Morrison was being too thorough not to. Heyes thought, regretfully that he should have shook that pick down further so that it might have fallen over and rested under his foot inside the boot, but he had wanted to keep the tool handy, easy to get at in case he had needed to retrieve it quickly. Now he knew he was going to loose it all together.

Sure enough, Morrison finished with the right leg and then started down the left. As soon as he slid his hand inside Heyes' boot, he froze. Then sliding the lock pick out he stood up and Heyes tensed, not quite sure what to expect at this point.

"Well isn't this interesting." Morrison commented. "Where did you get this one Heyes?"

Heyes smiled nervously, more than a little aware of the close proximity of the Sheriff standing behind him.

"You just missed that one when you searched me the first time."

"You're lying Heyes." Morrison countered him. "I searched you thoroughly and I didn't miss anything. The three I took off you this morning are still with me. So where did you get this one?"

"Honest, Sheriff, you simply missed it…."

The sucker punch to Heyes' kidney put him into the floor before he even realized he'd been hit. He lay there on his side, gasping for air as the pain blossomed and then radiated out from the point of impact. Morrison stepped around in front of Heyes and then squatted down and shoved the lock pick in front of his face.

"Where did you get it?" Morrison asked again, then he paused as a thought occurred to him. "It was that Jordan girl wasn't it? The oldest one, Bridget. She slipped it into your boot when she came to say goodbye to you didn't she?"

"No." Heyes gasped. "Like I said….you just…missed it."

Morrison stood up. The kick that landed in Heyes' ribcage threatened to make him pass out, if he didn't throw up first. He pulled both knees up almost to his chest as he fought to breath. Pain filled his mind.

"Don't ever play me for a fool again, Heyes."

Then Heyes vaguely heard the cell door open and then clang shut again. He was left alone, laying on the cold of the cell floor, gasping for breath.

Joe Morin hadn't felt at all comfortable about being left to guard the prisoner all on his own. He knew all about Hannibal Heyes and the tricks he had up his sleeve and Joe found it very difficult to relax and get any work done. When he heard foot steps outside he hoped it was Morrison or one of his deputies coming back to assist him, but then the handle on the front door rattled as the person tried to enter and finding it locked, started knocking.

"Ah, who is it?" Joe called out, nervously.

"It's Doc Gibson and Jesse Jordan." Came the Doc's voice. "I want to come in and check up on the prisoner."

"Oh, ah, just a minute."

Joe hurried over to the door and unlocking it, let the two men in. Then he did a quick scan of the boardwalk outside and finding it empty breathed a sigh of relief but quickly closed and locked the door again.

Jesse and David exchanged glances.

"A little nervous Joe?" Jesse asked him.

"You better believe it." Joe admitted. "I'm not supposed to let anybody in here or even go into the cell block unless it's a dire emergency. I just wish Sheriff Jacobs was here."

"Sheriff Jacobs wouldn't have left you in charge if he didn't think you could handle anything that came up." Jesse assured him.

"Well I don't think he foresaw this." Said Joe.

"You're doing fine Joe." Said David. "We brought some clean clothes for Mr. Heyes and I want to check him out. He took a bit of a beating out at Jordan's place. I just need to make sure he's alright."

"Oh, I don't know." Answered Joe looking anxious again. "Sheriff Morrison said…"

"Sheriff Morrison is not in charge of this jail Joe, you are." David countered him. "And being the town's doctor I have authority over you and Morrison when it comes to the welfare of a prisoner."

Joe looked like he was stuck between and rock and a hard place.

David smiled to put him at ease. "Don't worry about it Joe, we won't let your prisoner escape. And you know Sheriff Jacobs would approve."

"Yeah, I know." Joe admitted. "Alright, I'll let you in."

Joe retrieved the keys to the cell block and the cells and opened the wooden door to let the two men inside. One look into the first cell and everyone was up in arms again.

"God dammit Joe!" David snapped at him. "What happened in here!? How long has he been like this!?"

"I don't know". Joe stammered as he quickly unlocked the cell door. "Morrison was the last one in here and he told me to stay out!"

David and Jesse rushed into the cell and over to Heyes and were down beside him in an instant.

"My God, Joshua, what happened? Are you able to sit up?"

"No!" David interjected. "Don't move him Jesse, not yet." Then to Joe; "Get the keys to these handcuffs for goodness sakes! What the hell is Morrison thinking leaving him like this?!"

"Well, I don't have the keys Doc. Morrison's got them."

David was fuming. "Jeez, they haven't even cleaned him up. Joe! Go get water and soap, lots of it and keep it coming. And towels and some extra blankets. Go!"

Then David turned his full attention to Heyes.

"Okay Hannibal, where do you hurt?"

"Everywhere." Came the tight reply.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that. Where does it start?"

"My right side. Front and back."

"Okay. Just try to relax."

David gently pulled Heyes' blood stiffened henley up and away from his right side. Both Jesse and David sucked their teeth when they saw the deep, dark bruising that was already developing on Heyes' torso, nicely competing with the set of bruises that were there from the earlier assault. David carefully examined the ribcage and applied very, very gentle pressure against the lower ribs. But even at that Heyes tensed and gasped in pain.

"Easy." David tried to sooth him. "Just relax, I won't be long."

Done with examining the ribs, David then concentrated on the bruising on Heyes' back, gently feeling around the area and applying some pressure where he needed to. Heyes closed his eyes and tried to block the pain, but wasn't having much luck. He finally broke down and started to protest.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"OW!"

"Sorry."

"You're not sorry Doc, so stop saying you are!"

David smiled. "Okay, you have a point." He admitted. "I don't like hurting you Hannibal but I need to be sure there is no serious damage inside. I want to feel confident that you're going to heal up alright since I don't know how long I'm going to be able to keep you under my care."

"Yeah, okay."

David finally finished with his examination and then straightened up with a sigh.

"Alright. That kidney feels pretty tender and bruised, but I don't think it's damaged. I wouldn't be surprised if one of your floating ribs has a hairline fracture in it, but it's not broken. It'll certainly be causing you some pain for the next few days, but it ought to heal alright. However, having said that, if you start to cough up blood, or you see blood when you use the chamber pot you let me know right away. Do you understand?"

"Sure Doc."

"I mean it Hannibal, it's important. Don't play heroics or the tough guy, telling yourself that if you just give it some time it will go away on its own. I know what young men are like when it comes to seeking aid. And a few older ones too." David added, with an accusing glance directed at Jesse. That gentleman chose to be looking elsewhere at that particular moment.

"No, don't worry Doc." Heyes assured him. "If I see anything like that I'll let you know."

"Good.". David was satisfied with that. "Now, do you think you can sit up on your own?"

"No, I've already tried. The pain just shoots through me and I can't breathe."

"Alright. Jesse, if you can give me a hand here."

"Sure."

"If you can just get hold of him on that arm, and I'll pull him up with this one then we can get him into a sitting position. Hannibal, I'm just going to straighten your legs out in front of you, then we'll pull you up. Don't you do anything, just stay relaxed. Let us do the work, okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Okay Jesse, you ready? Alright, up you come."

Heyes suddenly found himself in the seated position without too much fuss and bother. He still hurt like the dickens, but the sharp pain he had been expecting never happened. David's expertise was impressing him more and more.

"Okay, that went well." David commented. "Now, your bunk is right behind you, so the next step is to get you sitting up on it. I'm going to bring your knees up now to get you into position, so just relax." He did that and then David and Jesse both stood up and each grabbed hold of an arm again. "Just like before Hannibal, don't you do anything. Let us do the work. Okay Jesse, ready? Here we go."

Just like before, Heyes easily found himself now sitting on the bunk and the world was looking a whole lot better. David and Jesse sat down on either side of him.

"Now, if we could just get these cuffs off of you we might start making some progress." David commented.

"Well, I see you have your medical bag with you." Heyes observed. "Do you have anything long and slender in there, something that might just resemble a lock pick?"

Jesse and David exchanged looks and then David smiled.

"Yes, I think I just might."

David quickly retrieved his bag from where he had dropped it by the cell door. He sat back down on the bunk, opened his bag and rummaged through it until he found another small case and he opened that to reveal a set of probes of various lengths and thicknesses for Heyes to choose from. They weren't exactly like a lock pick, not having been designed for that use, but Heyes was able to spy one that ought to do the job and David pulled it out for him.

"Now what?" David asked. "I'm quite proficient at using these tools for what they were designed for, but I've never picked a lock in my life."

"That's alright." Heyes answered. "I can pick a lock with my hands tied behind my back." He smiled at his little joke. "Just put it in my right hand, that's right. Now, direct the end of it into the key hole for me. Good."

Heyes started to take a deep breath, then stopped short at the pain it caused. He'd have to remember not to do that! He released the air that was in his lungs and closed his eyes, easing himself into a relaxed state. He focused his mind on the lock and the tool in his hand. He smiled with pleasure despite his pain when he felt himself in familiar territory. He could picture the inside of the lock in his mind, knew just where the end of the tool needed to be and just how much pressure to apply to seduce the lock into opening up for him.

Both Jesse and David watched silently, mesmerized by the artist at work. His long, slender fingers barely moved, everything was precise and delicate and then 'click', the one cuff surrendered and Heyes' smile broadened. Jesse was amazed. He felt like he was gradually saying goodbye to Joshua Smith and just beginning to scratch the surface of Hannibal Heyes. No wonder Morrison was so jumpy.

"Easy does it." Said David as Heyes tried to bring his arms around in front of him. The muscles in his shoulders were so tight and sore they protested at the sudden movement and Heyes sucked his teeth. "Just bring them around slowly, then work them around a little until they start to ease up. There you go. That better?"

"Yeah." Heyes answered and started to take a deep breath, then again decided that that wasn't such a good idea after all. He moved his neck and shoulders around a bit until the stiffness in them eased then he placed his hands on his lap and every quickly unlocked the second cuff from his wrist and let the offending manacles slide to the floor.

"How is Curry doing?" He asked David.

"As well as can be expected. He's resting."

"Yeah, but—he's still breathing right?" Heyes needed to hear the reassurance.

"Yes Hannibal, he's still breathing. Plus he has three lovely ladies more than happy to tend to his needs. He'll be well looked after."

Heyes nodded, relieved. Then there was some loud banging and clanking from the outer office, quickly followed by Joe and a friend coming into the cell block sloshing buckets of water and trying to keep hold of all the other paraphernalia associated with a sponge bath. Heyes was beginning to feel nervous.

David brightened up. "Oh great! Bring it all in here boys, and keep the water coming. Hello George, how are you today?"

"Fine Doctor Gibson." Joe's friend answered, but his eyes never left Heyes.

Wonderful, thought Heyes, another awe-struck youngster, hopefully he wouldn't be sticking around.

"Where is Sheriff Morrison Joe?" David asked. "I'd like to have a word with him."

"Ah, I think he said he was going to set up travel arrangements and then get some sleep." Joe answered a little nervously. He didn't like being put on the spot and was already worried about what was going to happen when Morrison got back and found that Joe had not obeyed his orders.

"Well, if you see him, tell him to come talk to me." Said David somewhat tight lipped, then; "Well, go on off with you. Get more water, we're going to need it."

The two young men disappeared, much to Heyes' relief, but then David's next words set him on edge all over again.

"Okay Hannibal, let's get these clothes off you and get you cleaned up."

"Ahhh…..I can just do that on my own can't I?"

David sat back and looked at him with half a smile on his face. "Well I don't know Hannibal, can you?"

Jesse decided to take the doctors lead and just sat back quietly, giving Heyes the time he needed to come to the uncomfortable but inevitable conclusion for himself. Heyes sat for a moment just staring straight ahead then looked from one man to the other hoping for some reprieve. He didn't find any.

Showing a streak of stubbornness that would match the Kid's, Heyes tried bringing one foot up to cross over his knee so that he could pull the boot off. No go. He barely got his knee half way up when pain shot through his torso and he gasped for breath. Then he tried using the boot heel on one foot to assist in pulling the boot off the other. Damn! That hurt even more. He sighed and sat for a moment. There had to be a solution to this!

Finally he changed tactics and attempted something simpler. Very slowly and carefully and with a great deal of effort Heyes was able to pull his arms out of the sleeves of the henley and then pull the shirt over his head but by the time he was done he was sweating and tight lipped with pain.

"Alright." He conceded. "Let's just get this over with."

Jesse and David both smiled and then set about getting down to business. Washing Heyes' hair proved difficult because he was unable to lean over the basin so water and soap was getting everywhere. Still, the job got done. They let Heyes wash his own face and he carefully dabbed at his split lip. It was sore, but not a bad cut and once he had removed the dried blood it was barely noticeable. His two friends carried on washing his arms and shoulders and torso, being very careful of the numerous bruises that were in attendance, and turning the buckets of water red faster than Joe was able to replace them.

It was at this point that Jesse began to notice other injuries that were well healed, but still apparent. Yet another scar from a bullet wound under the left shoulder blade was the worst that he saw, and probably the most life threatening. Still the other numerous scars of nicks and slices and close calls told their own story of a life full of danger and pain and no way out.

Heyes was acutely aware of his nakedness in more ways than one. Many men liked to boast of the scars they carried and the close calls they had escaped from. But Heyes wasn't one of them. He kept himself covered up for the most part, not wanting others to see his battle wounds. To him they were an accounting of all his foolish choices and decisions, and his inability to keep himself, and those he was responsible for, safe from harm.

"My goodness, Joshua." Jesse began before thinking that it might be intrusive. "Just how many times have you been shot?"

Heyes tried to pull his mind away from the pain and discomfort he was currently in and focus on Jesse's question.

"Including the grazes, or just the ones that had to be dug out?"

David and Jesse exchanged glances.

"And Thaddeus?"

"He's got his share."

Moving along, Jesse draped one of the dry blankets across Heyes' shoulders so he would not get cold and then they set about carefully pulling off his boots and socks, both of them noting that even those items were bloody from the inside out.

"Okay." Said David. "Let's stand you up so we can get your trousers off."

Heyes groaned inwardly. Please don't let Morrison walk in on them now!

They got him on his feet and then Jesse grabbed another blanket and held it around Heyes' waist in order to preserve some of his dignity while David pulled the bloody trousers and longjohns down to the floor. Heyes held onto Jesse's shoulder to steady himself while he stepped out of the soiled clothing and then David quickly began washing the dried blood off his legs, etc. It was the etcetera and was causing Heyes distress.

Jesse, well aware that what David was doing, even as a doctor, would cause extreme embarrassment to any grown man, attempted to engage Heyes in conversation to try and keep his mind off of what was going on below his waist.

"What in the world did you do Joshua, to deserve such a beating?" Jesse asked him. "I know Morrison is a bit of a bully, but I don't think even he would have laid into you like this without a reason."

Heyes looked a little sheepish.

"Ahhh….well. He found another lock pick on me."

"Another one? I find it hard to believe that he missed one when he searched you."

"No, he got all the ones I had on me at the time."

"Well then how?...Oh, don't tell me it was one of my girls!"

Heyes smiled at him. "Okay, I won't."

"Oh my goodness." Jesse groaned. "Well, it couldn't have been Beth, she was way too distraught over Thaddeus to follow through on something like that. It must have been Bridget. She's going to be hearing about this!"

"I wouldn't be too hard on her Jesse, she was just trying to help."

"Yeah, like the last time. Nearly getting her mother thrown into prison! Now this time you ended up receiving a sound beating. She has to learn there are consequences to making those kinds of choices." He signed. "I don't know what it is about you two, Joshua. Those girls are usually very responsible and know right from wrong but as soon as you boys show up all their common sense goes right out the window!"

Heyes gave an impish smile and flashed his dimples. Jesse laughed out loud.

"You devil!" He teased Heyes. "You know exactly the effect you have on the fairer sex—young and old!"

Heyes shrugged smugly and gave a playful nod. Then he turned serious again and looked Jesse straight in the eye.

"Don't worry about your girls Jesse." He said. "They're both fine, sensible young ladies (on the most part). When the time comes, they'll make the right choices."

"Hmmm." Like most fathers, Jesse wasn't totally convinced.

"Okay, I'm done here." David announced. "Let's get you into those clean clothes."

"Oh." Heyes responded, a little surprised. Jesse had done a good job at distracting him. He hadn't been totally successful, but close enough.

Half an hour later Heyes was looking more himself, comfortably dressed in black trousers and boots and a light blue shirt. A dark brown jacket lay at the foot of the bunk for when the evening turned chilly. His previous clothing would more than likely have to be burned since nothing was going to get those stains out.

Then, almost as though on cue, Morrison came storming into the cell block.

"What the devil is going on in here!?"

David and Jesse both stood up. Neither man cared for this Sheriff much and both were ready to do battle.

"What's going on is exactly what I was wanting to ask you!" David threw back at him. "What's the idea of leaving a man in that condition alone and locked in a cell? He may be your prisoner Sheriff, but I insist he be treated with a certain amount of humanity!"

"Oh you do, do you?" Morrison countered. "Well I've said it before and apparently it bares repeating; Heyes and Curry are dangerous men! They've yet to make it to trial because people like you treat them like they're upright, honest citizens! You have no idea how quickly they'll turn on you or anybody else in order to avoid going to prison! Well I intend to make sure that man goes to trial and I really don't care if you don't like the way I go about it!" He paused and glared over at Heyes where he was still sitting on the bunk. "Mr. Heyes and I needed to come to an understanding as to my tolerance level for con games. Hopefully we have reached that point."

Heyes just smiled weakly back, not really feeling up to including himself in this discussion.

"I understand your concern Sheriff." David responded. "But keeping a man's hands cuffed behind him indefinitely is borderline torture and I will not tolerate it as long as he is in my care."

"Fine." Morrison answered. "We'll just see how long that's going to be."

David ignored the veiled threat. "I also want to see a decent meal and lots of drinking water brought in here. I have a feeling he hasn't had anything all day."

"I'm really not hun…."

"Shut up!" David threw back at Heyes, so riled now that he forgot about courtesy. "You're going to get some food into you whether you like it or not!"

"Joseph! Sam!" Morrison called while still glaring at David. "Get this cell cleaned up! Then go over to Molly's and ask her to prepare a meal for the prisoner."

"Yes, sir Sheriff." Joe answered and he and Sam quickly began to collect up the buckets and blankets and towels and even did their best to wipe up any spilt water that was still pooling in various places on the floor. Joe noticed the handcuffs still laying where Heyes had dropped them, so he collected those as well to return to the Sheriff.

"Are you going to be visiting with the prisoner for much longer?" Asked Morrison sarcastically.

"At least until I see he has had something to eat." David answered.

"And you?" The Sheriff asked Jesse.

Jesse sat back down again and folded his arms. "I have nowhere else I have to be."

Heyes knitted his brow and looked at Jesse as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Well that's just fine." Morrison answered. "I'll be in the office until such time as you finally take your leave." And then he turned on his heel and stomped out of the cell block.

David breathed a sigh of relief and began collecting up his medical supplies and returning them to the bag. Joe and Sam were quick to gather up the other items and made a hasty exit, glad to be getting away from the friction.

Heyes turned back to Jesse. "Speaking of places to be, weren't you supposed to be teaching class today?"

"Oh yeah, I know." Jesse admitted a little self-consciously. "With all the distractions this morning I totally forgot about class until it was too late to do anything about it. Still, everyone knows now what happened so it won't be a problem. I'll be back at it tomorrow. There's probably no point in expecting Beth to attend class though." He added reflectively. "I doubt she'll be able to focus on anything other than Thaddeus and, I think Belle is going to need all the help she can get, looking after two helpless boys."

"Hmmm." Heyes felt a little guilty about that and didn't really know how to respond.

"I'll take Tricia out with me in the morning when I go to check up on Jed." David offered while he was looking around for the little tool Heyes had used to open the handcuffs. "I'm sure she'll be happy to help out. Have you seen that little probe Hannibal was using?"

"Oh. No." Jesse answered, and standing up began to pat down the bunk and look around the floor for the missing item.

Then, in unison, both men stopped searching for the item and looked over at Heyes. Our innocent outlaw had a sheepish smile on his face while holding up the 'missing' utensil. Both men sighed resignedly and went to sit back down on the bunk again. David took the probe from Heyes' fingers and returned it to its case.

"Sorry." Said Heyes. "Force of habit."

"Hmmmm." David nodded. Neither man wanted to know when exactly Heyes had snatched the tool or where in the world he had hidden it.

"I swear Joshua, you're incorrigible." Jesse commented. "I'm beginning to think you ask for the treatment you get at the hands of these lawmen. You certainly don't go out of your way to make it easy."

Heyes did not feel inclined to respond.

"Come on Hannibal, you have to eat something."

Heyes looked at the plate of food in front of him. He was hurting inside and out, physically and emotionally. Every time he forced a forkful down his throat his gut just tightened up into a knot and let him know the intrusion was not welcomed. He managed to swallow down about half of what was on the plate just to get David to stop nagging him, and then he drank some water and called it quits.

"Well, alright." David conceded. "I guess that's good for now, but try and eat some more later on will you?"

"Yeah, I will Doc." Heyes lied.

"I'd best be getting home before Tricia gets too worried. I'll drop in again first thing tomorrow morning to check up on you."

"Yeah, okay Doc." Heyes answered, somewhat lethargically. "And thank you—for everything."

David nodded and glanced over at Jesse.

"I better be going too Joshua. I need to get home before it gets too dark. I may not see you again before you leave, is there anything else you need, anyone you want me to get in touch with?"

"Oh Yeah." Said Heyes, now that Jesse mentioned it. "Could you send a telegram for me?"

"Sure. Ah, I need something to write on. David, do you have anything…?"

David nodded and going back to his handy medical bag pulled out a pencil and some paper. "Okay, go ahead."

"Send it to Sheriff Lom Trevors in Porterville, Wyoming. Just….tell him what happened. He'll know what to do."

David finished writing down the information and then handed the paper to Jesse.

"Alright Joshua, I'll get this done right away." Then Jesse put a hand on his friends shoulder and Heyes looked up at him. "You remember what we talked about. I know you could be in for a difficult time, but I expect you to keep your word."

Heyes nodded. Then they were gone and he found himself alone again. He sent the dinner plate one last disgusted look and then pushed himself back on the cot and settled into the corner of the cell in the hopes of maybe getting some sleep. His body was so sore from the beatings he'd received that he didn't even bother trying to lay down, but using the skinny pillow as a cushion for his head and shoulders against the wall he did manage to find a position that gave him some measure of relaxation and he closed his eyes.

"He's stopped breathing."

"WHAT?! WELL DO SOMETHING! GET HIM BACK!"

"I'M TRYING!"

"GET HIM BACK! GET HIM BACK!"

Heyes' eyes snapped open, he was sweating and his heart was racing and then he started, surprised to see Morrison standing on the other side of the cell door, watching him. He closed his eyes and inwardly groaned. What now, he wondered.

"Oh your feet Heyes, come over here, up to the bars."

Heyes sighed then slowly eased himself off the bunk and walked over to the bars beside the cell door.

"Put your hands through the bars, one on each side. Good." The Sheriff snapped the handcuffs back onto Heyes' wrists and then unlocking the cell door, came in and began the methodical search all over again. Heyes suffered the indignity of it all in silence, except for a small intake of breath when Morrison patted down his torso, not giving too much concern for the tender bruising. Once he was done with Heyes, he turned to the bunk and did a quick but thorough search in and around that convenient hiding place. Then did the same with Heyes' black hat and the new jacket that was draped across the foot of the bed. Fortunately for Heyes, he found nothing in or around any of these items to cause him concern.

He took the plate of food and the empty water cup and put them on the floor outside the cell. Then he came up behind Heyes, and unlocking one cuff brought the prisoner's hands back down and around behind his back again.

"Oh come on…" Heyes complained.

"I don't mind bruising your other kidney for you Heyes."

Heyes' jaw tightened. "No, that won't be necessary."

"Good. Keep your mouth shut."

Morrison snapped the cuffs shut again and Heyes started to step back from the bars but then he felt Morrison's hand in the middle of his shoulder blades pushing him back into the bars again, causing him to flinch with pain.

"Just stay put Heyes. Don't you move until I tell you to, understand?"

Heyes nodded as best he could. "Yeah."

Morrison backed off; Heyes heard the cell door open and then clang shut again.

"Okay."

Heyes backed off the bars and sent a glare over at Morrison as the Sheriff walked back towards the wooden door. Morrison smiled as he locked eyes with the outlaw. He was wearing Heyes down, he could see it. Morrison was winning and he knew it.

Heyes went back to the bunk and tried to settle into the pillow again. He got himself as comfortable as possible, but with his hands cuffed behind him once more he gave up any hopes for getting some sleep even if his own mind wasn't sabotaging that effort anyways.

He was feeling angry and irritated at the way Morrison was treating him. He didn't deserve….oh, now wait a minute, maybe he did deserve to be treated like that. His thoughts went back to what Jesse had said, about how Heyes seemed to be asking for it sometimes, how he was always pushing the limit. He'd always been so flippant when it came to outwitting the law, it was a game to him. It was so easy. Heyes, with his brilliant mind and nimble fingers opening safes and cell doors like it was a parlor trick being performed for the amusement of all.

But Morrison wasn't amused, he was fed up. He'd had it with Heyes and Curry running rough shod over the legal system of the country and it was time to get serious and do something about it. The sheriff had never pretended to be anything other than what he was; a law officer determined to bring two outlaws to justice, no matter what it took, or who tried to stand in his way.

What was getting Heyes' goat is that Morrison wasn't a fool, and that the Sheriff was right; Heyes had been playing him for one, just like he always did. Only this time Heyes was up against a man who understood the way his mind worked and was always one step ahead of him, blocking every move he made. Morrison was meticulously wearing him down, mentally (and physically) beating him into submission.

A tingling of fear settled over Heyes as he finally came to an understanding of who he was up against. It wasn't the fear of going to prison, or the fear of never seeing his cousin again, not even the fear of death. It was the fear of loosing. Hannibal Heyes wasn't used to loosing. There was always a way out and his arrogance had never allowed him to seriously ponder the possibility that there could come a time, maybe this time, that the way out would be blocked.

The chilly midnight hour of the next morning found Heyes up and pacing. His eyes were burning with exhaustion, but his mind wouldn't let him sleep and the aching in his body wouldn't let him rest. He was impatiently awaiting the coming of daylight in the hopes that it would bring news of Curry. His cousin was fighting for his life, could already be dead for all Heyes knew and it was driving him mad not being with him. He wanted out of this cell, not to run away and disappear, but to return to the Double J to put his mind at ease, one way or the other.

Then he heard talking in the outer office, Morrison's gruff loud voice giving orders again, and the quiet murmurings of others responding. Then the jingling of keys in the lock and the wooden door swinging open and Morrison, Mike and Jack came into the cell block. All three were dressed for travel and the two deputies were armed with rifles to go along with their handguns. Something was definitely up.

Morrison unlocked the cell door and all three men entered, rifles at the ready, and the Sheriff unlocked Heyes' handcuffs.

"If you've got to use the pot, better do it now cause you're not going to have another chance for awhile."

Well that was diplomatic Heyes thought, then he considered his options and decided that maybe it would be a good idea.

While Heyes was busy with that little necessity Morrison grabbed Heyes' jacket and hat and gave them both another quick inspection. Then it was Heyes' turn, face first up against the bars again and yet another search of his person. Heyes was getting tired of this. Just where did the Sheriff think Heyes would be getting any more tools of his trade? Truth of the matter was; Morrison knew darn well that Heyes would be clean, but every chance the Sheriff got to let the outlaw know who was in charge was going to be utilized. Every time handcuffs were removed or locations changed or anyone other than a lawman got close to the prisoner, he would be searched. Heyes was not to be given any leeway at all.

As soon as the search was completed Morrison gave Heyes his jacket.

"Here, put it on."

"Little early for a ride isn't it?" Heyes asked as he did as he was told. No one answered him. "Can I ask how my partner is doing?" Again, no answer, but Jack broke eye contact with him for just a split second. Just enough to make Heyes even more worried than he had already been.

Morrison held out his hand to Jack and the deputy passed him a leather belt with manacles attached to it that he'd had slung over his shoulder. Heyes had never seen such a contraption before and he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it much.

"Turn around, hands up." Morrison instructed him and Heyes obliged him. Then the belt was put around his waist and cinched up snuggly behind his back.

Heyes sucked his teeth as the belt applied pressure to his injuries. "Easy." But again, he was ignored.

Then Morrison turned Heyes around, brought his hands down in front of him and snapped them into the manacles. He grabbed Heyes' black hat, plunked it onto his head and promptly marched the prisoner out of the cell and into the front office.

Joe was there, sitting at the desk, looking sleepy but also relieved that these men were finally going to be leaving his town. Morrison grabbed the pen that was on the desk, dipped it in the ink well and quickly signed the release form stating that he was again taking custody of the prisoner and relieving Joe of any further responsibility. At least where Hannibal Heyes was concerned.

"Don't get too relaxed." Morrison told the young deputy. "You'll be getting the other one in here just as soon as he's healed up enough to make the trip."

"Yeah, but by then Sheriff Jacobs will be back." Joe answered. "And it will be his problem."

Morrison snorted then nodded a farewell. Heyes felt a rush of relief at what the Sheriff had let slip. Curry was still alive! That was all Heyes needed to know for now. He was still alive.

They all left the sheriff's office and then headed across the street towards the train station. Heyes had expected to see horses waiting for them outside, or at least a coach. It had not occurred to him that they might be leaving town by train and in the middle of the night at that. David was not going to be pleased.

Morrison knew what he was about as they were not standing on the platform for much more than five minutes when the lantern for the train engine could be seen steadily making its way towards them. It hissed and chugged its way up to the platform and carried on past the small group of men as it slowly came to a halt alongside the station. There was no one else around and the steam coming up from the engine into the cool night air gave the platform an eerie almost ghostly atmosphere as the conductor approached the four men carrying his own shimmering lantern.

"You Sheriff Morrison?"

"That's right. Is everything arranged?"

"Yup. Just climb aboard this car right here. Your seats are at the back of the car, left hand side." Then he gave Heyes a suspicious look. "You sure you're prisoner's secure? We got families with children on board here. Don't really understand why you got to transport him by passenger train anyways."

"Because nobody would expect it, that's why." Grumbled Morrison. "And don't worry about him, he won't be causing any trouble. Will you Heyes?"

Heyes smiled innocently. "Not me, Sheriff."

"Well, okay." The conductor clearly wasn't too happy with the situation, but he waved them on board anyways and went about his own business of managing the train.

The small group stepped on board and entered the dimly lit passenger car and slowly made their way down the aisle towards the seats that had clearly been reserved just for them. Mike went first, with Heyes then Morrison and finally Jack bringing up the rear. Morrison kept his hand in the middle of Heyes' back, partly to keep him moving, but mainly to constantly be re-enforcing the pecking order to ensure that Heyes never forgot who was in charge.

After the cool night air outside, coming in to the confined space of the passenger car was like stepping into a warm encompassing blanket. The after-shock and weariness that had begun to settle over Heyes once he had been left alone in his cell now doubled its intensity and he felt his knees wanting to give way beneath him. He gave a quick glance at the sleeping passengers and his weary eyes lighted onto a young boy to his left who was snoozing in his father's arms. There was something familiar about him, like Heyes was looking at himself.

Heyes felt what? Remorse? Regret? Or was it just plain self-pity at the sight of the youngster? He couldn't be any more than eight or ten years old. Right around the same age he had been when his own life had started to go so wrong. The lad was small, and so young, nestled there safe in his father's arms. Heyes went suddenly back in time. He wouldn't have been much different from this boy when his own father had been so violently taken from him. How could a small boy that age take on the weight of the world and not be damaged by it? And yet Heyes could remember not thinking of himself as a small frightened boy, but as the man of the 'house' now. As the older cousin whom Jed could look up to and depend upon and young Hannibal thought he was doing right.

Then the boy looked up and met Heyes' eyes, bringing the outlaw back to the present. What was that in the child's eyes? Fear or awe? Or maybe a mixture of both. Heyes wanted to put the lad at his ease, to let him know he had nothing to be afraid of. He quietly smiled at the boy and did the best he could to give him a little wave with a shackled hand. The boy ducked down, but couldn't bring himself to look away. Then Heyes was past him and the contact was broken.

Heyes was directed into the middle set of seats and was actually grateful to be able to sit down and get settled in. To his bruised and aching body the cushioned seats were like a warm well-padded woman's soft embrace. Exhaustion threatened to take him over, yet he was afraid to close his eyes not wanting to yet again relive the nightmare of the previous day's events.

Morrison had taken another set of manacles from Jack and, kneeling down in front of Heyes' seat, snapped the leg irons around the outlaws ankles, then taking the length of chain attached to the cuffs, wrapped it around the metal bar under the seat and then brought the loose end up and attached it to the leather belt that was cinched around Heyes' waist. He was most definitely secured. He didn't care; he was so tired.

Mike settled in beside Heyes, and Jack slid into the seats behind them. Jack hadn't had much chance to get some sleep, having taken the first watch with Curry. Now, it seems it was finally his turn to catch a nap. Mike made a point of keeping his rifle handy. Morrison sat down in the window seat in front of Heyes and didn't look like he was planning on sleeping any either. Then, from over Morrison's shoulder Heyes made contact again with the wide open brown eyes of that same youngster. The outlaw was still being scrutinized.

Heyes acknowledged the boy again and sent him another quiet smile. Then the lad did something that to Heyes seemed very prophetic; he pulled out his little toy hand gun, took aim at the prisoner and pretended to be shooting at him Heyes' smile deepened for an instant. It wasn't because he thought the boy's actions were amusing, on the contrary, he found them tragic. Tragic and symbolic of a life gone wrong.

Heyes broke the contact this time and turned to look out the window as the train jerked slightly and began moving again. Once they got past the station, the night sky was so dark there really wasn't anything to look at and Heyes found himself staring into the dark brown eyes of his own reflection. Worried stared back at him. Worry and sadness and…defeat? No, not defeat. Even in his state of exhaustion he was not willing to concede defeat. Acceptance maybe. Jesse had been right again; there were going to be difficult times ahead but maybe it was time to face up to them, maybe it was time to stop running.

Heyes sighed. Is this how it was going to end? All those years of avoiding the law and now he was ironically on a train, being taken back to Wyoming to stand trial for…how many crimes? Maybe Heyes needed to look at this from another point of view. If this was the end of his life as a fugitive, didn't that also mean that it could be the beginning of his life as a free man? Turn a negative into a positive, isn't that what he was supposed to be good at? But Curry was right, Heyes was a cynic and he couldn't block out the other possibility either; that it could also mean the beginning of his life as a convict. And so it begins—one way or another.

The train was picking up speed and the clackity clack of the wheels along with the rhythmic rocking of the car was having a nullifying effect on Heyes and the exhausted eyes of the reflection gazing back at him began to glaze over. He started to lean forward, to remove his hat but was again instantly halted by the sharp pain in his ribcage. He asked Mike if he would be so kind as to remove the hat for him. Mike obliged, but then gave the hat and hatband another quick inspection before plunking it onto Heyes' lap. Morrison had been quite adamant in his instructions.

Heyes had never thought about putting a lock pick inside his hat. Maybe because it was too obvious. Still that might be a good idea for future reference, if only…..he could….utilize… that….

Then just when Heyes wasn't thinking about it, sleep snuck up from behind and put his troubled mind to rest.

TO BE CONTINUED

.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

CONSEQUENCES

Jed Curry was screaming with laughter. He and his older brother were chasing each other around the porch of their farm house, taking turns at being the 'good guy' and the 'bad guy'. Their younger toddler sister was sitting by the open front door, banging her toys on the floor of the porch and laughing with delight every time her brothers galloped past her.

It was a beautiful warm summer day with a soft breeze wisping its way through the trees and grasses of the farmland bringing with it the fresh scents of flowers and leaves and sunshine. The windows of the home were all wide open to allow the breeze to flutter through the rooms and to mingle with the warm, enticing aroma of fresh baking bread and pies.

Mrs. Curry was in the kitchen humming a tune to herself as she rolled out fresh dough and the sounds of her activity filtered out to the porch where her children were playing. They knew that, pretty soon warm bread with freshly churned butter would be their reward for keeping out from under foot. But for now, they played and laughed and rejoiced at being young and full of energy.

Jed felt so warm and comfortable and safe. He didn't want to leave this place. This was home. But gradually, no matter how hard he fought it the here and now started to fade. The comforting sounds of his siblings' laughter and of his mother's tuneful humming started to mute and Jed was drifting away. He fought so hard to stay there, to remain inside the warmth and the safety But more and more he was rising away from it, his consciousness becoming more aware of the outside of his being rather than the inside.

He could still feel the warm sun and the breeze coming through the window, and hear the birds singing to the summer day. There was the distant sound of a child cooing softly and a woman humming. The aroma of fresh baked bread still lingered, but it was all outside of him now and what had been inside, what had been joyous and content, was gone. He had lost that warm comfortable place that was home.

The humming stopped. With that well developed instinct of a mother, Belle had somehow known that her patient was finally awake and she made her way quietly into his room. He felt her sit down on the side of the bed and he tried to open his eyes but he was so weak, he couldn't move. He became slowly aware of a dull throbbing in his shoulder and muddiness to his brain that went beyond what he would consider to be a hangover.

A hand gently touched his arm and he opened his eyes to slits, trying to focus. His lids were heavy and they didn't want to co-operate. Finally the room stopped spinning and he was able to define the face of the woman sitting by his side.

"Thaddeus?"

"Hmmmm." His mouth felt dry, his throat tight.

The Angel of Mercy seemed to know this. She went to the night stand, poured some water into a cup and then lifting Thaddeus' head just a little, she pressed the cup to his lips and helped him to drink. Some got down his throat, some went down his chin, but he got enough to satisfy for now. Belle put the cup back on the night stand and picked up the small hand towel that was there and dried up the little rivulet that had made its way down his neck and onto the pillow. She dried his mouth and then gently caressed his sweet face with her thumb. She was worried about him, no doubt about it. This past week had been frantic and she had been scared to death that every time she came into the room she would find a corpse instead of a patient.

David had been coming out every morning, bringing his wife Tricia with him. He would check Thaddeus' condition; help with the first changing of the bandages and cleansing of the wounds. He would give new instructions for the patient's care and leave more medications and painkillers, including quinine for the fever that had taken hold of Thaddeus' body for three days.

Tricia would stay out at the ranch for the day, helping Belle with the bathing and the bandage changing that had to be done at least three times a day. She helped the two girls with their brother, helped Belle with preparing meals and the all round general housekeeping chores. She had been a blessing for sure since she knew a lot more about breaking a fever and keeping a wound clean than anyone else in the county—excepting her husband, and even then there could be some debate about that.

Then, late afternoon or early evening, depending on how busy his day was, David would return and do another check on the patient and give more instructions for his care and comfort for the night. Then he and his wife would usually stay for supper, discuss the events of the day and then head for their own home until the next morning, when they would come out and do it all again.

The first morning that David and Tricia had come out to the ranch, David had been in quite a tiff. Belle couldn't remember when she had seen him that angry. Apparently Joshua had suffered some more rough handling at the hands of the Sheriff, and David had gone by the jailhouse first thing in the morning in order to check up on him and give him some laudanum if needs be. But when he got there, he found the jail cell empty and the small posse, with their prisoner, long gone.

David had taken the majority of his anger and frustration out on Richard who just happened to be on that shift to guard the unconscious man, and he just took it all with a grain of salt. He knew that Morrison tended to rub people the wrong way, but the man got the job done and right now, that's all that mattered to Rick. Let the doctor fume, it was nothing to him.

Sam who did not, as has already been noted, have a thick skin was fortunately asleep in the bunk house at the time preferring the night shift of guard duty so as to avoid the Jordan family (especially Bridget) as much as possible. He had therefore missed the tongue lashing that had befallen Rick and had avoided the whole uncomfortable situation altogether.

As the days went by, both men became increasingly bored with the guard duty and found other ways to occupy their time. Generally speaking they tended more to doing the outside chores such as looking after the barns and the livestock and leaving the household duties and care of the prisoner to the women. This arrangement suited everyone just fine. Everything got done, and nobody got under foot.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Thaddeus' fever had broken and they'd all breathed a sigh of relief. But still, everyone knew that the open exit wound in Thaddeus' back needed a lot of care and attention to keep any infection at bay and to encourage its healing. David was still anxious about those bone chips floating around in there, but didn't dare do any probing while Thaddeus was still in such a weakened condition. Hopefully he would be able to get to it, given time, that is if Morrison didn't return and abscond with this patient in the middle of the night as well!

On the afternoon that Thaddeus had finally regained consciousness everyone but Belle had been out tending to other chores so she and the two boys had the place to themselves. Fortunately young JJ was having a good day, which was actually quite normal for him. Jay was a happy baby on the most part and had been quite content to play and coo in his bassinette between times of eating and sleeping.

When Belle had heard Thaddeus stirring, she judged that her baking could be left to carry on by itself for a while and came into his room to ease his fears. And her own.

She sat beside him, caressing his face and he fought to open his eyes again.

"Belle?" It came out as barely a whisper.

"Yes Thaddeus, I'm here. You've had a fever, but you're doing better now."

"Hmmm. Pneumonia?"

"No. Just…a fever."

He closed his eyes and sighed. She thought he was going back to sleep again, but then he jerked slightly and forced his eyes open one more time.

"Heyes?"

Belle hesitated, looking away for an instant. She didn't want to lie to him, but didn't want to worry him with too much truth right now either.

"He's….gone into town." She finally answered him.

Thaddeus nodded. He seemed content with that. He closed his eyes again and was instantly asleep. Belle continued to sit beside him, holding his right hand where it lay on his chest, for a long time. Just being able to sit there and watch his steady rhythmic breathing eased her concerns and gave her hope that he just might come through this after all.

The next time Curry awoke it was nighttime and the house was dark and quiet. Jed lay for a while, trying to remember where he was but without any visual reference his mind just wasn't putting it together. He gradually became aware of light coming in under the closed door and tried to call out to see if there was anyone about. Nothing came out, it was like he had to relearn how to use his vocal cords. He felt so weak, wow he really must have been sick. Something about a fever…?

He worked up some saliva and swallowed, trying to moisten up his throat and then managed to croak out a "Ehhh!", and then he heard chair legs scrap on the floor and foot steps coming towards his door. The door opened quietly and the bright light shone in, silhouetting a man's figure in the open doorway.

"Uws at?" Kid managed to slur out.

"It's Sam."

"Sam?" Things were starting to come back to him now. Just a bit.

"Yeah." The young man confirmed, and he came into the bedroom, keeping the lamp turned low.

"Ow are ya, Sam?"

"I'm okay. How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Shoulder urts like dickens. Josh mare kick me or somethin'?"

"No, ah…I'm sorry you're hurting. I don't know if I should give you anything, so….Mr. Curry?"

But Jed had fallen back to sleep.

The next time he woke up it was the following morning. He could hear activity out in the main part of the house and people talking. Belle's voice he recognized and there—that was Bridget. Then a strange voice, sounded like a young woman, but he didn't know who that was. He tried to sit up but that wasn't happening, and oh man, his shoulder hurt and he couldn't move it. He brought his left hand over to investigate and found that his whole right arm was bandaged up tight against his torso and there was layers of padding on his shoulder both front and back. He couldn't remember what had happened, his brain was still foggy.

"Hello!" He called out, still weak but a better effort than his previous attempt during the night.

The voices and clatter coming from the kitchen area instantly quieted and suddenly there were two teenage girls fluttering around his bed.

"Thaddeus! You're finally awake!"

"Momma said you woke up before but we missed it."

"Girls, be careful." Belle warned them. "Take it easy."

"Oh, yeah." Beth apologized. "Are you hurting Thaddeus?"

"A little." Jed lied. He was hurting a lot. Then, aware that there was at least one stranger in the house, he added, using the alias; "Where's Joshua?"

There was an awkward silence and then Jed noticed another man standing in the doorway to his room. He furrowed his brow. It wasn't Sam and it sure wasn't Jesse.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm Rick Layton, I'm here too…"

Belle quickly put a hand on Rick's arm to silence him. She couldn't help but think that the less Thaddeus knew of his true situation, the better. At least for now.

"Are you hungry Thaddeus?"

Jed turned his attention back to Belle, his focus beginning to fade and his concentration slipping.

"Hungry?" He murmured.

"Yes." Belle answered him as she moved to the bedside and poured him some water. "There's some soup simmering on the stove for whenever you feel up to eating anything." Then she took a small pouch out of her apron pocket and added some of its contents to the water.

"Hungry." Jed repeated, as though he wasn't quite sure what the word meant. "I don't know. Tired."

"Alright. In the mean time here's some water. It's important that you get fluids in you so at least drink this."

Belle held his head up again and put the cup to his lips. The attempt was a little more successful this time and Jed actually got most of the contents down his throat. It tasted a little bitter, but his body was craving fluids so much that he didn't care and he drank it willingly.

Belle settled him back down again and placed her hand on his forehead and then his cheeks and then she smiled, the fever was quite gone. Jed closed his eyes. Her hand felt cool and comforting and he was back home again and his mother was holding him close in a hug and she was murmuring how much she loved her little Jedidiah

"Is he going to be alright Momma?" He heard Beth's voice from way off in the distance and then he heard no more.

The next time he woke up it was the evening of that same day—and he was HUNGRY!

"Belle?!" His voice was stronger, but still not much more than a loud whisper, but Belle heard him and was at the door in an instant. Jed was trying to sit up.

"Oh, no Thaddeus! Just wait. Jesse! Can you come and give me a hand?"

Rick started to come to help, but Belle stopped him with a look, shaking her head. He shrugged and sat back down in the hallway again to wait for Sam to relieve him. Jesse came in from the dinning room and joined his wife at the bedside.

"Well, good evening Thaddeus." He greeted the patient. "I was beginning to think you were going to sleep the whole month away."

"Have I been out of it that long?"

"Well, not quite, but it's been a while."

Then Jesse helped him to sit up while Belle rearranged the pillows so that he could lean back comfortably.

"Now," Said Belle. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes!" Came the adamant reply.

Belle smiled broadly. "Good! I'll get you some soup." And she quickly headed to the kitchen.

Jed looked up at Jesse. The older man was thinking how worn out Thaddeus was looking. He'd really been through the wars here.

"What happened Jesse?" Thaddeus asked him. "I can't seem to remember anything."

"That's alright." Jesse assured him. "We'll talk about it in the morning when you're a little stronger."

"But where's Joshua? Shouldn't he be here?"

"In the morning Thaddeus, alright? We'll talk in the morning."

Jed was about to protest, but then Belle showed up with a cup of soup and the enticing aroma of it captured his attention. Jesse took that opportunity to escape. Belle smiled at his cowardice, then placing the cup on the night stand, she laid a towel across Jed's chest, like a bib and prepared to spoon him a mouthful of soup.

"Ahh…can't I just feed myself?" Jed asked.

Belle settled back and smiled. "Well I don't know Thaddeus. Can you?"

Jed accepted the challenge and determined to accomplish this simple task on his own, he took the spoon in his left hand and dipped it into the cup of soup. It felt foreign to him, like his arm just wasn't going to do what his brain was telling it to do. The spoon shook and refused to stay level as he attempted to transport the broth from the cup to his mouth. By the time the spoon had reached its destination there was very little soup left in it. Most of it was on the towel. Jed frowned, but was determined to try again.

Belle smiled, but waited patiently for him to come to the inevitable conclusion. She had tended to enough sick or injured adult males in her lifetime to know that she couldn't push him and that he would have to figure this one out in his own time.

He dipped the spoon in again and it started its shaky journey back towards his mouth. This time the utensil didn't even get half way when Jed's fingers weakened and lost their grip altogether. The spoon with the soup ended up in his lap. Jed groaned.

"Ohhh. Alright. You win." He finally conceded. "But will you close the door? The last thing I need is for the girls to see me being hand fed like a baby!"

"Rick! Would you mind closing the door for now?"

"Yeah, alright." Came the reply from out in the hallway, and the door quietly closed.

"Now who's Rick again?" Asked the Kid.

"Thaddeus…" Belle admonished him.

Jed sighed in resignation. "Yeah, I know. In the morning."

Sam spent another long quiet night sitting in the hallway outside the bedroom door, trying to stay awake. In some ways the night shift was the hardest to get through because there was absolutely nothing to do to help pass the time. He tried reading, but the light from the oil lamp was so inconsistent that it made that pastime nearly impossible. He tried writing a letter to his mother, but that proved to be just as frustrating as reading. Finally he just folded his arms, leaned back against the wall and let himself doze for awhile

He allowed his mind to wander and found himself thinking about the choices he had made and the consequences of them. He worried about how he was going to make things up to Bridget because he really did like her and it was making him miserable that she wouldn't even talk to him. Her parents had been treating him with a little more understanding, thank goodness, or this duty would have been too awkward to have endured.

When Morrison had first told him that he was going to stay behind and share the guard duty with Rick, Sam had been relieved. He had not been looking forward to escorting Hannibal Heyes anywhere. Sam still found the man extremely intimidating and Heyes made no effort to hide his disdain for Sam. Jed Curry was a much more amiable kind of person—even if he was what Morrison had called a 'cold blooded killer'. Sam couldn't help it, he had just found himself liking the blond outlaw and felt terrible that his life had been put in such jeopardy because of him. Indeed, if either of the outlaws had had to get shot, why couldn't it have been the dark haired conman? Sam could have lived easier with that.

The young man sighed with boredom. About the most exciting thing he'd had to do all night was to help Curry with the bedpan and other than that, everyone else in the house was asleep but him. He figured Curry would be strong enough soon to be transported into town and then be whisked off back to Wyoming by whatever means was available. And then Sam would have some more choices to make.

The next morning started quite early, as usual. Belle was up first and got the stove going and started to heat up water for coffee and Curry's bath, then, while that was happening, she settled into the day nursery with JJ and gave him is morning feeding This was pretty much Sam's signal to head out to the barn to take care of the livestock and the dogs who were always happy to see him, and then head over to the bunk house to get some sleep. He always tried to head outdoors before Bridget came down, as he just wasn't ready to face her yet.

Jesse and the girls were down shortly afterwards and started to get breakfast going for everyone. It had become Beth's job to take something out for Sam, since Bridget wasn't quite ready to face him yet either. Sam was in the 'doghouse' as far as she was concerned, and was likely to remain there for some time.

With the coming of summer Jesse had plans to head up to the northern pastures to take a look at the foals and calves and make sure they were all doing well. Some decisions were going to have to be made about the yearlings as well since many of them would be heading off to market soon. It was at this time that Jesse missed having Sam as a hand, but he obviously had a previous commitment, so most of the work was falling onto Jesse himself. Still, he had the girls to help him out now that classes were finished and also, since Thaddeus seemed to be out of danger they were more willing to accompany their father for a day out of riding the range.

Still, David and Tricia would be coming out later in the morning and Jesse was willing to wait until they had the doctor's diagnosis on Thaddeus before leaving Belle and Tricia short handed in looking after the household. There was a lot of juggling of chores these days.

Jed had been awake for some time and could hear the household waking up and the morning duties being attended to but he was in no hurry to announce his wakefulness. It was warm and comfortable in the bed, and though his shoulder did ache, it wasn't so bad as to cause him distress. His brain still felt a bit muddy, so he assumed he was still on quite a dosage of painkillers, and that was alright. He just lay there with his eyes closed and allowed his mind to wander.

He still couldn't remember anything of what had happened. Who was this Rick guy? And where the hell was Heyes? And just what had happened to him to be stuck in this bed at the Jordan's ranch? This was no kick from a horse, he'd had enough bullet holes in him to know that he'd been shot. But who had done it, and where was he now? If he had been arrested, why wasn't he…well, in custody? All these questions and more were drifting around in his brain, but the fever, and now the morphine were making it impossible for him to really focus on anything. All he really wanted to do was sleep.

A quiet knock on his door brought him around again and he forced his eyes open. Belle came in carrying a bowl and a towel and placed them on the night stand while she helped Thaddeus to sit up. The fact that she was able to accomplish this without Jesse's help was a good indication of how much stronger the patient was this morning. All the while that she was re-arranging his pillows, Thaddeus was protesting his need for such attention. Belle ignored him and sitting down, prepared to force feed him if necessary. Kid groaned and closed his eyes again.

"I'm really not hungry." He mumbled.

"Well, too bad." Belle responded, but with a smile in her voice. "Just eat a little of it, you need it to get your strength up."

Jed nodded acceptance and swallowed down the spoonful of oatmeal that headed his way. He had to admit that once the warmth of it hit his stomach his appetite picked up and he was able to put away a good portion of the bowlful

"Well, that went well." Belle commented at she picked up the towel and made sure there were no dribbles of oatmeal on his chin. "Let's hope the next endeavor goes just as smoothly."

At which point she got up and left the room leaving a very suspicious Jed Curry wondering what the next endeavor was going to be.

A few minutes later his worst suspicions were confirmed when Belle returned carrying all the items she would need for a sponge bath. She deftly closed the bedroom door with her foot and began to go about her business of setting everything up for the inevitable.

Curry was looking decidedly uncomfortable and unconsciously grasped the blankets with his left hand and pulled them up, snugly around himself.

"Ahhh, what are you doing?" He asked, though he knew darn well what she was doing.

"The doctor is coming out shortly to check up on you and change your bandages. You need to be cleaned up before he arrives." She answered matter of factly. Then she put a hand on her hip and gave him her best 'stern mother' look. "You're not going to give me a problem with this are you?"

Curry gave her his best 'charming outlaw smile' "I don't need a bath Belle."

"Now don't get all bashful Thaddeus." Belle said with a raised eyebrow. "You've been in this bed for close on ten days now. Do you really think that this is the first bath I have given you?"

Curry groaned inwardly and he felt himself blushing, just a bit. And then an even worse thought occurred to him.

"The girls weren't helping you were they?"

Belle gave him a look. "Really Thaddeus, of course not!" Jed sighed with relief, then Belle added. "I did need some help while you were unconscious, but then it was just the doctor's wife."

"Oh." Curry replied. "The doctor's wife being older and matronly."

Belle smiled. "Well, no actually. Twenty-four and quite pretty."

Curry groaned again, his embarrassment growing. Belle smiled at him and Jed was really beginning to think that she was enjoying this.

"Come on Thaddeus." She teased him. "You can't tell me that a young handsome man like yourself has never been undressed in front of a lady before."

"Well sure." Curry answered. "Plenty of times. But I didn't know them!" Then he blushed even deeper as he realized what he had just said. "I mean…ahh…."

Belle laughed. "I'm no maiden Thaddeus." She reminded him with another smile. "I'm well aware of young men's appetites. Come on, let's get this done. We'll start on the easier parts and when we get to the more sensitive areas I'll let you do that yourself. How's that?"

Seeing no way out of this, he agreed. Then, just like with breakfast, once he had accepted the inevitable it was actually quite refreshing to get cleaned up. Belle kept her promise and was discreet at the appropriate moments and the bath was completed without too much more embarrassment caused to the patient. She even helped him to shave, not wanting him to cut his own throat due to his still weakened condition

Belle's timing had, as usual, been impeccable and just as she was cleaning up they heard the dogs set up a loud chorus of barking to announce David and Tricia arriving in their surrey. Buck and Karma, who were out in the front pasture, outside Curry's window trotted and danced along the fence line in their usual morning greeting to the horse and buggy. Curry had to admit that seeing Karma-Lou out in the pasture had put his worries at ease to some degree. If Karma was here then surely Heyes could not be too far away.

Within a few minutes the new arrivals had entered the house and Curry could hear Jesse and then Belle greeting them.

"Good morning. Our patient is doing much better today."

"Excellent." Curry heard a young man answer. "Is he eating alright?"

"Yes." Belle answered. "I've been able to get some food into him."

"Good." And then he had entered the bedroom and went over to the patient. "Good morning."

Jed nodded a greeting. He was surprised at how young the man looked. Not exactly Curry's idea of your typical country doctor. And Belle had been right; his wife was young and quite pretty. He was feeling decidedly uncomfortable again.

"I'm David Gibson." He introduced himself to Curry. "This is my wife, Tricia." Curry nodded another self-conscious greeting. "I've been tending to you these past couple of weeks."

"You've done a lot more than just tend to him." Belle interjected, then added. "He saved your life Thaddeus. I dread to think what would have happened if he hadn't been here."

"Ahh, thank you." Curry said, not quite sure how to respond to that information.

"Your welcome." David answered him, with a smile. "It was touch and go there for awhile, but I'm glad to see you looking so much better. I just want to change your bandages and see how things are healing up. How does your shoulder feel?"

"It hurts." Jed answered bluntly.

"Yes, I'm not surprised. I'll leave some more morphine here. It will take the edge off the pain and help you to rest. In the mean time, let's get these bandages off."

With help from Belle and Tricia, Curry was able to sit up a bit straighter and David began to unwrap the bandage that secured Curry's right arm to his chest.

"Do you know what happened to you?" David asked as he worked.

"No."

David nodded. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Ahhh…it was early morning. My friend and I were out in the barn. Discussing our travel plans. My horse was lame, so things had been delayed a bit. Then….I woke up in here."

"Okay. You don't remember coming out of the barn, or anything that happened after that?"

Curry shook his head. "No."

"Well, I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that you were shot. It was a Winchester 44-40." Curry groaned. He knew that wasn't good. "The entry wound is not too bad, I was able to get it cleaned out and stitched up without too much trouble. But, of course as the bullet entered your shoulder, it started to spin and it tore up a great deal of muscle tissue and badly fractured your shoulder blade before exiting out your back. Okay, this is the last of the bandage coming off, so try to keep your arm still alright? It's important that you don't move it."

Curry nodded, and Tricia who was sitting to Curry's left helped to hold his right arm in place so her husband could continue with his examination. Meanwhile, Jesse, who had been doing some paperwork out in the dinning room, could hear the direction that the conversation was going and decided that his presence in the bedroom might be desirable. Thaddeus was not going to like what he would be hearing.

David removed the padding from the wounds and did a quick scrutiny of the entry wound, and then had Curry lean forward a bit so he could get a closer look at his back.

"So, the exit wound is another story." David continued. "I cleaned it out as best I could under the circumstances, but you were in a great deal of distress so I couldn't do as much as I would have liked. I got all of the foreign material out of the wound, but there still may be some bone chips floating around in there. That may not be a problem, or they may just gradually work their way out on their own. It would create an abscess and it would be painful but manageable. Worse case scenario, another infection could set in and we would have to open your shoulder back up again and try to remove the chips manually. You would have to be hospitalized." Curry closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. This was not sounding good at all. "In the meantime, we have to keep this wound in your back covered, and very clean. Its wide open as there was nothing left to stitch together. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I think so Doc. In simple language, this is going to take a long time to heal."

"Yes, it is. And Jed, I'm sorry, but you may never get full use of this arm back again. There was just too much damage."

Curry's throat tightened. He was dimly aware that David had used his real name but he had already come to the conclusion that this man knew who he was. Of course, it was the diagnosis the doctor was giving him that put a knot in his stomach. He felt a hand on his leg and looked up to meet Belle's gentle eyes. He flinched as David began to clean the wound on his back, but in a way, he welcomed the pain and focusing on that helped him to bring his emotions under control.

"Are you…sure…about that…Doc?"

"Well, there is always a chance that you will get a lot of your mobility back. But you will have to be diligent. As I said, it will have to be kept clean until it heals over and then you can't move it while the bone is healing. After that I know of some exercises you can do to get the flexibility back in the muscles and tendons. But I won't lie to you Jed, it's going to be a long road and it won't be easy." Then David sighed and added as an after thought;" And I don't know how long you're going to be in my care."

Curry sat quietly for a moment, while David finished up with the cleaning and began to re-bandage the shoulder again. He felt weak, and sick—and more than a little scared.

"Where's Heyes?" He finally got the nerve up to ask. He was met with a silence. "Jesse! Where's Heyes?" Then a tingling dread settled over him and it felt like his lungs had collapsed—there was no air left in them. "He's not…dead…is he?"

"No!" Both Jesse and Belle answered together.

"Well then, where? His mare is still here!"

"Joshua gave Karma to us." Jesse informed him. "He didn't want the Sheriff to take her off this ranch. I guess he'd rather we keep her for him instead of her being sold. As for where Joshua is right now, I've been in touch with Lom Trevors." Curry nodded at the mention of their friend's name. "According to him Joshua was taken directly to Cheyenne, Wyoming. Apparently they have the most secure jailhouse in the territory right there so that's where Sheriff Morrison wanted him to be. He's had a preliminary hearing, but the Judge did not grant him bail even though I offered to put it up, and Sheriff Trevors guaranteed his presence when his trial date comes up. Unfortunately, it seems the Judge felt that it was just too big a risk that Hannibal Heyes would make a run for it."

Curry closed his eyes again. "Any word from the Governor?"

"Not that I've heard." Jesse answered. "But it's early days yet, Thaddeus."

David had finished up with his 'doctoring' and Jed settled back onto the pillows feeling totally lost and wrung out from all this bad news coming at him at once. Heyes must be going nuts, and pacing a trench in his cell by now.

"How?" He asked weakly. "How did-Sheriff Morrison?" Jesse nodded. "How did he know we were here?"

"Apparently he'd been planning this for a long time Thaddeus." Jesse explained. "He'd had someone watching the ranch for close to a year, just waiting for you and Joshua to show up."

"Who?" Jed asked, confused. "Who could have been watching you for that long without you noticing them?"

Jesse looked a little shame-faced. "I'm sorry Thaddeus. It was Sam."

"Sam!?"

Jesse nodded. "Apparently he had deliberately set himself up for me to hire him here all with the intention of, well, spying on us, and reporting back to Morrison about everything that was going on."

"Oh Geesh. He seemed like a real nice kid too."

"Well he is." Jesse responded. "If it makes any difference, he feels pretty bad about the way things ended up and his part in it. I don't think Bridget is ever going to talk to him again though. All of this has been pretty hard on the girls."

"I'm sorry Jesse. We shouldn't have come here."

"I think that is enough talk for now." David interjected. He had been watching Curry closely during this discussion and his pale, clammy complexion made it clear that his patient was about done in. "Belle, would you mix up some of the morphine for him, please."

"Certainly." Belle agreed, and headed for the kitchen to get the medication.

Rick had arrived from town shortly after the Gibson's, but had gone un-noticed by everyone except the dogs until he entered the house. The two Jordan girls were sitting at the table looking distressed, so Rick poured himself a cup of coffee and joined them hoping to maybe cheer them up a little bit. He didn't have much luck and soon it became apparent as to why when he began to pick up some of the conversation drifting out from the bedroom. To say that Rick felt badly about having shot Jed Curry would be an overstatement. It had been the job that he was hired to do and he was darn good at it, so no regrets. However, he did realize that for some reason, this family considered the outlaws friends and this must be a difficult time for them. It was especially hard for the girls to know that their friend was having to hear such bad news, not only about himself, but about his partner as well.

Though Rick was not someone who would normally be welcomed in their home, considering the role he had played in the boys' capture, he was after all, an officer of the law and was to be treated with respect. To their credit, the girls were trying their best. Sam was the one who was getting the brunt of their disapproval, hence his decision to be on night shift.

So, having been given the task of guarding Curry while he was still laid up, Rick was doing his best to fit into the routine of this household. Though Morrison had not suggested it, Rick was trying to be as helpful as he could to the family that he was intruding on in order to carry out his duty and they did seem to appreciate his predicament.

Curry would probably be ready to be moved soon, but where he was going to ultimately end up, Rick had no idea. He knew that Heyes was in Cheyenne so Curry would probably end up in Murreyville, Morrison's own home town to await trial. Morrison had insisted on the two prisoners being kept apart and little to no information being given to either one of them about the condition of the other. 'Keep them off balance', Morrison had ordered. 'If they keep their minds occupied worrying about each other then they wouldn't be as inclined to think up means of escaping.' It all sounded good and maybe it would work.

Belle came out of the bedroom, smiled a greeting at the group at the table and carried on into the kitchen. They could hear her making some preparations and then she disappeared back into the bedroom and Rick went back into wait mode.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom Belle handed the cup of medicated water to David. He accepted it and then added some more ingredients to the cup from his own supplies

"Here Jed, I want you to drink all of this, it'll help you sleep. And that's the best thing for you right now, okay."

"Yeah, sure Doc." Came Curry's despondent reply. But he drank down the contents and settled back into the bed again. He turned his head towards the open window and could just see Buck and Karma out in the field, contentedly grazing, enjoying one another's company.

Very quickly his eyelids began to feel heavy and his body seemed to just melt into the mattress. He wasn't even aware of the other people leaving the room and closing the door as the heavy sedative took effect. He continued to gaze out the window, unable to take his eyes off their horses. He could feel the warmth of the mid-morning sun giving a promise of the hot summer days to come. The soft aromatic breeze was fluttering through the curtains and he was screaming with laughter as he chased his older brother around the porch, anticipating a treat of warm freshly baked bread with creamy churned butter as he drifted off into oblivious sleep.

When Curry awoke next, he had no idea how much time had passed by. Was it the same day, the next day or a week later? There was nothing in his conscious mind that was allowing him to judge the passage of time. He felt some confusion, some vague memory of bad news. And fear. There was a tightness in his throat and chest, an anxiety that weighed heavy on him and grew as he became more and more awake.

There were no sounds outside his room and in his confused state the silence was eerie and ominous. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and was momentarily surprised at how easily he accomplished this. He pushed the blanket down and swinging his legs off the bed, found himself facing the open window and the two horses peacefully grazing out in the field. He sat there on the edge of the bed, watching them for a few minutes. They looked so content, happy even in the comfort of their shared camaraderie and it created an aching in Curry's heart, a yearning that he couldn't quite understand. All he knew is that he had to get out of there; he had to leave—now!

Carefully he stood up, testing his legs and his balance. He was a little dizzy so he took it slow and with his left hand, held onto anything that presented itself as he made his way over to the dresser. He could see his boots there by the chair and his hat, no gun belt though, oh well. He quietly pulled open one of the drawers and his clothes were there, waiting for him. He took them out and sat down on the chair, breathing heavily and fighting the dizziness that wouldn't leave him alone. He felt cold and clammy, but he would be alright once he got some clothes on.

It was a slow process, getting dressed with just one good arm and everything had to be done in stages. He was also having to stop on a regular basis in order to quiet his shaking limbs and to push the dizziness back from his brain so he could focus on what he had to do. Finally, after an eternity he had everything on to the best of his ability. He had pulled his left arm through the sleeve of his shirt, but the right he could only drape over his shoulder and hoped that it would stay there. He tried to button it up, but couldn't quite manage the dexterity needed for what he would normally consider a simple task. He forgot his hat.

Moving over to the window he managed to open it wide enough for him to maneuver himself out over the sill, and then drop the short distance to the ground. He landed on his feet, but his knees gave way beneath him and he went all the way down, landing sharply on his right shoulder. He gasped, the pain like daggers stabbing into his brain. Nausea heaved over him and blackness threatened to envelop. He just lay on the ground for a few minutes, breathing heavily and fighting the physical symptoms that were trying to prevent him from completing his task. Whatever that was.

The two horses had stopped grazing and were watching him with interest. They knew who he was, but he wasn't behaving normally and that got their curiosity aroused. After a few minutes, Buck's human pulled himself to his feet and carefully made his way across the bit of yard separating the house from the field. He got to the fence and slid in between the planks so that he was inside the pasture now, and using the fence for support, he made his way over towards the gate, next to the road.

The horses, thinking that just maybe he was going to be taking them into the barn for a good feeding of grain, began to slowly follow him, then passed him and waited patiently by the gate for him to catch up. Curry spied the halters with their attached lead shanks hanging off the fence post, kept there to be handy for when it was actually time to bring the horses back in to the barn for the night. He took one of them off the post and turning to his horse, grabbed hold of Buck's mane in order to steady himself. It took some effort with just the one hand, to get the halter on Buck's head, but he managed it. Buck stood quietly while Jed looped the lead shank around his horses' neck and tied the loose end to the halter, that done he opened the gate and led his horse out.

Then he heard Rufus start to bark and sure enough, Peanut and Pebbles were quick to join in, and Curry knew he had to get moving because the alarm had been sounded and he wasn't going to get stopped now! He lined Buck up against the fence, and stepping up onto the lower plank, he hoisted himself across his horses' back, swung his right leg over and pushed the gelding into a trot down the road, away from the ranch.

Curry was vaguely aware of someone yelling behind him, the dogs barking , a rifle shot and a woman screaming. He didn't hang around for any more, grabbing more of Buck's mane, he leaned forward against his neck and tried to push him into a faster gait.

Buck was nervous and confused. His human was not acting in a normal manner and it made him hesitate to pick up speed for fear that Curry would fall off. Then Karma-Lou was beside him, and with head and tail up with this new adventure she picked up the pace. Buck joined up with her and together they took off at a gallop down the road and away from the yelling and commotion behind them.

It was all Curry could do to hang on! He had no control over where his horse was going, but they were going there fast and that was all Curry cared about. All he had to do was stay on. He was still leaning against Buck's neck, knowing that if he tried to sit up, he would loose balance and fall off. His right arm was trapped underneath him but his left hand was still clutching the mane and the speed of the gallop made his eyes water and the ground to blur in their passing.

They must have continued for a few miles at that breakneck pace, but with Curry not encouraging him to carry on with it, Buck gradually began to slow down. Karma circled around and came back to him, preferring to stay with her buddy than to continue galloping on alone. Curry lay motionless along Buck's back, his face buried in the handful of mane that he still desperately hung onto.

The quiet warm day was slipping into mid afternoon when Belle and Tricia finally took a break from the gardening to settle down to some tea out on the front porch. Thaddeus had been heavily sedated and when last checked on, was sound asleep so Belle wasn't too worried about him. It had been decided that Jesse and Bridget would ride up together to check on the young livestock with Beth preferring to remain at home to help watch over Thaddeus and keep her baby brother entertained. Sam and Rick were both in the barn discussing the game plan for that night and the next day, while Sam got the evening feed ready

Beth had just come into the barn to ask the men if they would like to come up to the porch for some tea when Rufus suddenly started barking and setting off the other two.

Rick rolled his eyes. "Sounds like that old hound of yours has flushed out another rabbit." He said to Beth.

Beth furrowed her brow. "No, that's a more serious bark, there must be someone coming."

"Hmmm." Was Rick's only response, but he walked out of the barn to check up on whatever was happening. When he got out into the yard and looked down the lane, he stopped dead in his tracks. What he saw made his blood run cold. He couldn't believe it!

Cursing, he ran back to the barn to grab his rifle. Sam and Beth were both alerted by his agitated return and were quick to follow him back outside.

"What!?" Sam asked. "What's the matter?"

"Damn that Curry!" Rick cursed again. "Soon as I get that bastard in my sights, I'm going to kill him!"

He ran out into the middle of the yard where he knew he could line up a clear shot and then brought his rifle up to take aim.

By this time of course, the two women on the porch were alerted to something amiss and were up and starting down the steps. The dogs were continuing to bark their warning, and Beth, terrified by what Rick had said, and with heart in throat, ran out after the deputy, determined to protect her friend from further harm.

Curry was just getting going, still at a trot and moving away in a straight line, he made an easy target, especially for a marksman like Rick. He lined Curry up in his sights, held his breath and squeezed the trigger. All of a sudden Beth was all he could see! He cursed again, and with a speed that only comes from reflex, he jerked the rifle barrel up just as the bullet exploded from the muzzle!

Belle screamed in a terror that she had never known before and she ran to her daughter. Beth had collapsed on the ground in a semi faint, all her strength leaving her in the realization of what she had done and what had almost happened.

Rick was white as a ghost, his fear and shock coming out in anger.

"What the hell's the matter with you!?" He yelled at the girl. "I could have killed you!" And then he was running for the barn to quickly saddle his horse and get after the escaping prisoner.

Within minutes Rick had his horse saddled and out of the barn. He swung himself aboard, and with one more fear/anger laden glance at the women huddled in a terrified embrace of skirts and sobs on the ground, had kicked his horse into a gallop and headed down the road in pursuit of his prisoner.

The first thing Rick was thinking as he galloped down the road is that he really could use Jack's expertise at this time, as he was a much better tracker than Rick was himself. However, having covered approximately half a mile, Rick began to relax as he realized that Curry was not going to be too difficult to track down. The outlaw obviously wasn't thinking, he was just running. In a straight line. Down the main road.

After another mile of easily following the galloping tracks of the two horses, Rick pulled up and dismounted. He had noticed something else in the soft churned up dirt of the track and decided it needed a closer examination. He squatted down and put his finger to a small dot of dark moisture that had settled upon the dusty road and then brought his hand up for a closer inspection. Sure enough, it was red. Curry had started bleeding again. Rick smiled slightly and shook his head. This was going to be easy.

He remounted and carried on at a casual lope, watching the ground in front of him just on the outside chance that Curry gathered his wits and made a sudden turn off the track, but it didn't happen. Indeed it wasn't long before the hoof prints indicated a slackening of the pace and Rick took his eyes off the ground and started scanning the road ahead, expecting to make visual contact at any moment now.

Keeping his rifle at the ready, he trotted his horse around a bend and then sure enough he spotted the two horses up ahead, casually nibbling on some greenery off to the side of the road. Curry was still laid out on the back of his horse, his right arm pinned underneath him, and his left laying along the animal's neck, clutching a handful of mane.

Rick brought his horse down to a walk and slowly approached the two animals.

"Curry!" He called quietly. "Curry, can you hear me?"

There was no response. Rick could see blood soaking into the back of Curry's shirt where the wound had been irritated and had started seeping again. He could only assume that the wound in the front was doing the same thing. He could already hear the good doctor fuming about this one. Rick slowly dismounted and, keeping the rifle at the ready, quietly started walking towards the two horses. Both horses shot their heads up and stopped munching, suddenly suspicious of this human whom they didn't really know very well, approaching them.

"Whoa, easy there big fella." Rick soothed the gelding.

Buck arched his neck and started to blow. Karma skittishly danced away from the man and Buck started to join her when Richard made a quick grab for the halter and stopped him in his tracks. Curry started to slide off so in a continuing motion Rick swung his right shoulder into the Kid and pushed him back into position. Curry groaned quietly. Rick shook him gently on the left shoulder.

"Curry, can you hear me?" He repeated.

Curry's eyes opened to slits, but he didn't answer. He looked pale, and was sweating.

"If you can hear me, just hold on." Rick continued. "I'm going to get you back to the ranch. Alright? So just keep holding on like you have been and everything will be okay."

Rick turned and put his rifle back in its scabbard, then untying the loose end of the lead shank on Buck's halter, organized the two horses so he could get remounted and set off back to the Double J. Karma watched them walk off and then with a snort and a toss of her dark red hair decided she may as well join them.

Rick pulled Buck up to walk along beside his horse so that he could keep a steadying hand on Curry's shoulder. Rick had calmed down considerably since his angry vow to "kill that bastard" the next time he had the outlaw in his sights He had been angry more at himself than at Curry and now that the situation was back under control he was feeling a little less retaliatory.

His initial anger had been justified though, since he knew that Morrison would have had his hide staked out in the sun if he had lost his prisoner. With the boredom setting in from the extended, uneventful guard duty, Rick had fallen into the very trap that Morrison had repeatedly warned them about; underestimating the two outlaws. Curry was badly wounded and being kept under heavy sedation most of the time. He couldn't even sit up on his own, let alone get on a horse! So Rick had become complacent and had nearly paid a heavy price for it, not only in the loss of Curry, but in very nearly (Rick shuddered at the thought) shooting an innocent young girl in the attempt to cover up his mistake.

In hindsight, Rick realized that he should have been more on his guard. With the news that Curry had received that morning it was only logical that the man would be not only upset, but scared to death at his own future prospects. Facing the very real possibility of twenty years in prison, a crippled arm and his friend and partner already incarcerated for who knew how long it suddenly all made perfect sense that Curry would react unfavourably to the situation.

Rick grudgingly had to admit to a certain measure of admiration for Curry's display of determination. The amount of morphine the Doc had given him should have had him knocked out for a good twenty-four hours. Yet, somehow he had managed to dress himself, crawl out an open window, mount up on his horse and make a run for it. It didn't matter that he didn't get far, or that he was running blind, with no real plan in mind, just the fact that he had managed to get as far as he did was down right amazing.

Rick was never going to underestimate Jed Curry again.

Back at the ranch house, Beth was sitting on the porch steps with her mother's arms around. She had calmed down, but was still sobbing a little bit.

"I'm sorry Momma, I'm sorry." She repeatedly apologized, knowing the terror her actions had caused. "I just didn't want to see Thaddeus get hurt again."

"Here they come." Said Tricia. "It looks like Mr. Curry is unconscious. Thank goodness David will be here soon!"

Rick brought the horses up to the steps and dismounted. Tricia and Sam hurried over to them and then all three were around Buck and Curry, assessing the situation. Kid was still clutching the handful of dark mane, refusing, even after passing out to let go of his life line. Rick took hold of Curry's left hand and tried to pry the fingers open but to no avail.

"Sam, get my knife out of the saddle bag, will ya? It's on this side."

"Yeah." And Sam started to rummage in the bag until he came out with a hunting knife safely tucked away in a sheath. Sam pulled it out and handed it to Rick.

Rick then commenced to cut through the long hair until he had Curry's hand free, then returning the knife to Sam so that he could return it to the bag, he started to pull Curry off the horse. Sam grabbed hold of Curry's legs as he came off, and then both men carried the unconscious outlaw back up the steps and into the house. Tricia quickly followed them, but it took Belle and Beth a little longer as for some reason, Belle just could quite bring herself to let go of her daughter.

By the time the Jordan ladies had joined everyone else in the bedroom, Curry was laid out on the bed, his boots and the soiled shirt had been removed and Tricia was trying to access the new damage done to his shoulder. She had removed some of the bandaging but didn't want to do more than assess the situation and staunch whatever bleeding there might be until her husband arrived. Taking a look at the blood covered material she pulled away made it pretty obvious that the injuries had been torn open again.

Tricia pursed her lips. David was not going to be happy about this.

Twenty minutes later that afore mentioned individual brought the horse and surrey into the yard at a quick trot, and knew instantly that something was amiss. For one thing, there were three horses trotting around loose in the yard, and the dogs were a little bit more animated in the carrying out their duty as official greeters. David tied his horse to the rail by the barn, grabbed his bag from the seat and hurried into the house. He carried on into the bedroom and his jaw dropped at the sight that met his eyes.

"Oh my goodness! What in the world has happened here?!"

Tricia looked up with relief in her eyes. "David! Thank goodness you're here. He's torn out all the stitches."

David sighed and shook his head in dismay as he headed over to the bed. "How in the world did he manage that? I had him sedated to the limit, he should have stayed down until the morning."

"Yeah." Rick answered him. "That's the mistake I presumed to make as well."

"Okay, everybody out." David ordered. "Except you Tricia, if you would please assist me."

"Of course, dear."

"And Belle, you know the drill. Some warm water and soap if you could."

Belle nodded and left to attend to that, leaving David wondering why she looked so pale.

Then he leaned over Curry and slapped him sharply across the face a couple of times.

"Jed! Jed, can you hear me!?"

Curry groaned softly and opened his eyes just a crack. He blearily took in his surroundings and started laying in a mild protest, trying to push David away from him. David pushed him back and held him down. Curry was too weak to carry on the fight.

"No, Jed, settle down." David told him. "You've torn out all your stitches, I'm going to have redo them, alright? It's going to hurt but I don't dare give you any more morphine, so just take it easy and we'll get it done."

Fortunately for Curry, he just simply passed out again. During the procedure Tricia filled her husband in on what had transpired and David became more and more frustrated with the futility of the whole episode. An hour later, everything was patched up and the patient was resting in bed just as though nothing had happened. David sat by the bedside, sighing with disappointment and discouragement. Tricia stood behind her husband and put her arms around his neck. He patted her hand affectionately.

"Why did he have to do it?" He muttered more to himself than his wife. "Why couldn't he just listen to me? All he's done is to make things worse for himself."

"I know." She soothed her husband, and kissed him on the top of his head. "He was running scared. He probably didn't even know where he was going, or why….he was just running."

"Maybe I told him too much." David admonished himself. "Why do I have to be so brutally honest with everyone?"

"Now don't start second guessing yourself." His wife responded. "You've always held with telling your patients the truth, especially if it's bad. They need to know what's going on if they're going to be able to deal with it."

"Yeah, but not to scare them so much they run themselves to death."

"Come on David. You can't make choices for everybody else, you have to let him accept some of the consequences for the decisions he's made. There's a lot more going on here than just what you had to tell him."

"Hmm." David still couldn't help feeling somewhat responsible. Both of these outlaws had proven to be quite a challenge. David was coming to the realization that their priorities were different from other people's, so their behaviors tended to be desperate and unpredictable. Though he still didn't hold with Morrison's abuse of his prisoners, David was beginning to appreciate the lawman's attitude a little bit better

Just then there was a soft knock on the door and Rick entered the room.

"Are you finished up in here Doc?" He asked.

"Yes, for now."

"Good."

Then Rick proceeded around to the other side of the bed, and taking Curry's left hand, he snapped on a pair of handcuffs and then snapped the other end of them to the ironworks of the headboard. He sent a small smile over to David and Tricia and then walked out of the room. He had ment it; he was never going to underestimate Jed Curry again.

Early evening settled in around the household, and those people heading into town had long since departed. Rick had given Sam strict instruction to not—except under the most dire of circumstances—release Curry from the handcuffs, and even then the Deputy felt some trepidation at leaving the outlaw in the younger man's custody. Still, Sam had not let them down yet and it would be on that young man's head if he did so now.

Jesse and Bridget had not returned yet, but that wasn't surprising. They would have had a busy day and there were still a couple of hours of daylight left so plenty of time yet for them to get home. Belle had prepared a light supper for everyone, since after the stressful events of the day, nobody was particularly hungry and then she had settled herself with JJ out in the rocking chair on the front porch to snatch a little bit of time for herself. She had a relaxing cup of tea by her side, her son cooing in her arms, and a peaceful, pleasant evening to help wash away the fears of that afternoon.

Sam was sitting at the dinning room table writing a letter to his mother, while Beth was finishing up in the kitchen and putting things away. When she was done with her chores, she quietly stood in the hallway for a moment, making doubly sure that the other occupants of the house had their attentions elsewhere and then she crept, silent as a mouse, into Thaddeus' room.

She stood for a few minutes just inside the door, watching him sleep, her pulse racing with the anticipation of what she intended to do. She couldn't believe how nervous she was. Her breathing quickened and her heart was beating so fast, she was certain it was going to jump up into her throat and strangle her. Gradually she made her way over to his bed, wiping the sweating palms of her hands on her skirt as she did so. She almost wanted to call the whole thing off, but then she knew she would regret it if she did, and if she was going to do this, now was her best chance.

She ran her eyes along his left arm up to the hand laying palm up on the pillow and the shiny metal cuff encircling his wrist, and then along the chain to the second cuff attached to the wrought iron bar. She felt a strange stirring inside and it scared her a little. That wasn't right was it? To feel arousal over Thaddeus being shackled? Everything she thought she knew about what nice girls felt told her that that was a bad thing. But she couldn't help it. There was just something exciting about it—something dangerous.

She was so nervous that her teeth were starting to chatter, just a little. She decided that if she was going to do this, she'd better do it now or she was going to faint. She half sat and half kneeled onto the bed and leaning forward looked at Thaddeus straight in the face to make sure that he was definitely asleep. She thought of his brilliant blue eyes and his gentle smile and then she leaned into him even more, closed her eyes and planted her lips gently onto his. The emotion of the contact took her breath away and she had to back off for an instant, or be strangled by it. She opened her eyes and gazed at his restful face and then leaned in and kissed him again. She had more control this time and she savored the moment, taking in his scent, feeling the tickle of his breath on her nose, the softness of his lips pressed against hers, and then the hardness of his teeth beyond them.

She lingered there for a heartbeat (or two or three) and then gradually backed off, her whole being tingling with the excitement of the moment and the thrill of having accomplished her mission. She smiled softly and sat back onto the bed, gently caressing his right hand.

"What are you doing in there?"

Beth just about jumped out of her skin, and then sent a defensive scowl in Sam's direction.

"Nothing." She answered him. "Just sitting with my friend for a while. Is that alright with you?"

"Well, yeah." Answered Sam a little embarrassed. "You just should have let me know is all. You don't know what he might get up to."

Beth sent him a look as he headed back to the table to finish his letter and then her countenance softened completely as she turned her attention back to Thaddeus. She took his right hand in hers again and squeezed it affectionately. The smile that returned to her face was heaven.

The household finally settled down for the night. As soon as Jesse had gotten home he knew that something was up, but Belle was not inclined to say anything to him about it just yet. He knew that a lot of their serious discussions took place once the household was quiet and they had the comfort of their bed and each other's arms to make the hard stuff easier. Jesse was willing to wait. Belle herself had intended to not say anything until the following morning, since she knew that once Jesse knew about the events of that afternoon, he was not likely to get any sleep at all. But not telling him was preventing her from getting any sleep so it was a pointless effort.

The whole household, except for poor Sam, had finally gone to bed when Jesse let his wife know that it was time to 'spill the beans' so that maybe they could both get some sleep Belle, safely nestled in her husbands arms broke down and related the events of the day to him. It was not easy for her to talk about it, and when she got to the part where Beth had come between Thaddeus and the rifle her throat tightened and she felt tears begin to well up. Jesse tensed and she could feel his anger and frustration at not being home at that time to protect his family.

When she had finished talking, Jesse didn't say anything. Belle knew that he was taking time to digest all that she had told him and to let his emotions settle down before making any decisions about what the next step was going to be. Jesse was not the type of man who reacted on impulse. But react, he would, and as head of the household, whatever decisions he came to concerning their current situation would be respected and carried out.

Next morning Beth and Bridget were both well aware of a slight strain in the air over the breakfast table and knew that a family "discussion" was in the works. Beth knew that her little over-reaction of the previous day was not going to go un-noticed and breakfast was a difficult meal to get down with a knot in her stomach. Bridget felt sympathetic to her sister's plight, but also selfishly relieved that she'd had nothing to do with the incident and was therefore safe from the predestined lecture.

It was therefore with some surprise and self-righteous indignation that she responded to her father's accusation that she was also standing accused of misconduct.

"But Papa! I was with you all day yesterday." Bridget reasoned quite logically. "How could I have had anything to do it?"

"I am not referring to what happened yesterday Bridget." Her father countered. "But to a minor incident of someone in this household slipping a lock pick to Joshua."

The wind went out of Bridget's sails like a balloon bouncing into a cactus. She turned a shade pink and Beth feeling relieved that not all of this was going to be on her gave her sister a small kick under the table and snickered into her oatmeal.

"Joshua suggested that I not be too hard on you as you were only trying to help." Jesse continued.

"I was." Bridget responded in a small voice.

"Help a wanted criminal escape legal custody….again!" Bridget hung her head even more. "It was bad enough four years ago and the consequence of that decision was that your mother very nearly went to prison!" Guilty glances over towards their mother. "We chalked it up to immaturity, that you were both still impressionable children and that, hopefully you had learned a valuable lesson. Obviously we were wrong because you are not a child anymore Bridget, you are an adult and if Joshua had decided to use that pick and in fact escape custody you could very easily have been held accountable and ended up in prison yourself! That would really have gone a long way towards you getting any sort of legal education wouldn't it?"

"I didn't think of that." Bridget mumbled. "I'm sorry Papa."

"Well, if you ever see Joshua again, I believe he's the one you need to apologize to." Jesse told her. "He's the one who suffered the consequences of your irresponsible decision this time. To his credit he refused to say who had given him the pick, but Sheriff Morrison beat him up pretty good trying to convince him otherwise."

Bridget gasped in fear and guilt. "Oh no Papa! I wouldn't have wanted that to happen! Is he alright? Was he badly hurt?"

"I believe it would be safe to say that he is still feeling the effects of it."

Guilty silence ensued. Jesse turned his attention to his younger daughter.

"Beth. What in the world were you thinking? You scared your mother half to death!"

"I know." Beth answered quietly, then built up a head of steam. "But Deputy Layton said he was going to kill Thaddeus! I heard him say it! What else was I suppose to do?!"

"LET HIM!" Jesse yelled for the first time during this 'discussion'. "BETTER THADDEUS THAN YOU! And I'm pretty darn sure that if you were to ask Thaddeus about that he would agree with me!"

"But Poppa…." Beth looked up at her father with tears beginning to well up. How could she tell him that she loved Thaddeus and that she couldn't stand by and watch him be killed any more than she could chop off her own arm. She dropped her eyes again and the tears started to run over.

It broke Jesse's heart to have to speak to his daughters this way, but he had to get it through to them that they couldn't just make rash decisions and expect everything to turn out alright. To soften the blow to them, he admitted to some guilt in the matter himself.

"I invited them to come and visit." He said. "They were smart enough to stay away, knowing they could bring trouble with them and put us at risk, but I insisted they come by. For that mistake on my part we have all paid a heavy price."

"Jesse…"

"No, Belle. It's the truth." Jesse insisted. "And now, it pains me to say it, but if by chance Joshua or Thaddeus decide to break legal custody and continue on with this dangerous path they have chosen, then they will not be welcomed back into my home."

This statement was met with gasps of disbelief

"No Papa!"

"You can't mean that!"

"But Jesse…" Even Belle was upset by this decree. "I've assured both those boys that we would stand by them, that they are family and would always be welcome here."

"I know." Jesse nodded sadly. "I've said as much myself and I'll still stand by my word if they choose to stop running, to stop and turn and face what is coming to them."

"But twenty years, Jesse…"

"I know." Jesse said again. "It's a risk, and I can understand both of them being terrified of the outcome of standing trial. But they both made choices and it's time they faced the consequences of those choices, otherwise the path they are on now can only end badly, for them and for those close to them and I will not put my family in any further danger." Jesse paused and looked around at the three distraught faces looking back at him. "The Governor may still come through for them." Belle rolled her eyes, she obviously didn't think there was much credence to that. "Or a judge and jury may take into account their years of trying to stay legal and be lenient." Even Jesse wasn't sounding too hopeful at these possibilities.

"Well, it seems a moot point anyways." Belle commented. "Since they are both now in custody and not likely to have any choice…."

Her observation was cut short by Jesse shaking his head. "Belle, from what I have seen and heard these last couple of weeks, all those rumours and the dime novel stories we've read about them don't even come close to the real animal. I watched Joshua pick open a lock in less than five seconds, with his hands cuffed behind him. And he wasn't even using a real lock pick! If he decided he was going to leave, there is not a jail in the country that could hold him. No. He has a choice, and so does Thaddeus. If those boys were our own natural born sons we would not be putting up with this nonsense from them and you know it." Belle had to concede that point. "If they care about this family, and want the privilege of being a part of it then it's time that they faced up to the consequences of the choices they have made and allow themselves to stand trial."

"I did WHAT!?"

Kid Curry was sitting fully dressed on the bed with his stocking feet stretched out in front of him. With the one arm bandaged tight, in a sling, and the other cuffed to the bed he found himself so incapable of doing anything that he was bored beyond distraction. To help alleviate the situation Beth and Bridget had drawn up chairs around the bed and were filling him in on his activities of the previous day. Rick had also taken up residence and was leaning against the door jam, quite prepared to confirm everything the girls were relating to their friend.

"No, I couldn't have done that." Curry continued to protest. "How could I have done that? I didn't do that, did I? I don't remember—how could I have gone out the window, I can barely stand up! Beth, you did WHAT!? What did you do that for? You could have been killed! Don't ever do that again! Ohhh, Jesse must be furious! This isn't right. No, no, this isn't right at all. I've got to leave. I've got to get out of here."

Rick, who had been silently listening in amazement to this running monologue instantly tensed with that last statement and prepared to do battle. Curry, who noticed this change in Rick's attitude, smiled sheepishly and quickly back stepped.

"Ahhh, no Deputy I didn't mean it that way." He assured the man holding the Winchester. "I didn't mean like 'escape'. I ment as in away from here, like into town. To the jail, yes! Okay? Ahhh, not escape, Deputy, believe me. I just ment…." Curry sighed and realized he was rambling. That was the problem with feeling better and having nothing to do. He was slowly going nuts.

Then Jesse appeared in the doorway and the atmosphere in the room changed again.

"Girls, Deputy. Would you excuse us please."

Beth and Bridget exchanged worried glances, then with quick looks over at their friend they got up and exited the room. Rick had already disappeared.

Jesse came in and closed the door. He moved one of the chairs closer to the bed and sat down. Both men assessed one another.

"Well, Thaddeus…"

"Jesse, I'm sorry. You know I'd never intentionally do anything to put the girls in danger. I don't even remember any of it. I don't care if David says I'm not well enough to leave, I'll go. Right now. Rick can escort me into town. I'll do just as well in a jail cell and it'll be a lot safer for everyone here if I go. Besides, it'll be closer for David to check up on me if I'm in town and Tricia won't have to come out here everyday and Belle and the girls can get back to their regular routine and you won't have to worry about anything happening while you're away and I'm sure you'd be quite happy to get Rick out from under foot….." Curry trailed off, realizing he was rambling again.

"Are you done?"

Curry sighed again. "I'm sorry Jesse."

"I know. And yes, it would be better if you were in town." Curry nodded. "But I do care about what David says, and if he doesn't think you're ready for that move yet then you are not leaving." Curry was about to protest, but Jesse cut him off. "On the condition that you don't pull another stunt like that again."

"Of course Jesse." Kid agreed. "I don't know what I was thinking, I wasn't thinking! I wasn't in my right head."

"I know." Jesse said again. "That's the only reason you're still here. Although it appears that Rick is not prepared to take any more chances on you." As he sent a quick look to the handcuffs. "I've noticed that Joshua can make quick work of a pair of those."

Curry smiled. "Yeah, he's pretty amazing."

"Which brings me to my other condition." Jesse continued, and Kid stopped smiling. "You boys are family. You have been since you first stepped foot onto our property four years ago. I don't really know how that happened but it did. Maybe we just represent something that has been missing in your lives, I don't know. But there it is; we're family. But members of a family have responsibilities to one another, to support one another through the tough times. And to take into consideration the choices we make and the effect of those choices on the other people involved.

I have every intention of helping you and Joshua in every way I can that's legal. I offered to put up Josh's bail and I'll do the same for you because I've chosen to trust that you respect me enough that you won't high-tail it and leave me holding the bag. I'll help with the lawyer fees as much as I can, we've got some fine yearlings up there, and they'll bring a good price.

But I offer this only if you hold up your end of the deal and that is that you and Joshua stop running. That even if the opportunity presents itself for you to break custody, you will not do it. It's time you boys faced up to this and got it dealt with one way or another. You've both mentioned being tired of the running, the hardships and dangers of living that lifestyle. You are both, understandably angry and frustrated with the Governor's apparent duplicity on the amnesty issue. Well, now it's time to call him on it and find out once and for all where you stand. You do that, and like I say, I'll stand by you in every way that I can. Are you agreeable to this?"

Silence ensued.

"Perhaps you need some time to think about it." Jesse suggested, and he stood up preparing to leave.

"No." Kid stopped him with the quick word. "No Jesse, I was just trying to figure out to express my gratitude. Heyes is a lot better with words than I am." Jesse couldn't help but smile at that. "After all that has happened here, your friendship and support is far more than what we deserve. For my part I agree to your conditions. I can only assume that because Heyes is still in custody that he has also decided to stop running. You're right Jesse—as usual—you're right. It's time to face the consequences.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

IN BETWEEN

Heyes was bored. Bored, bored, bored, BORED. There was only so much reading a person could do and he had pretty much exhausted all the newspapers the town had to offer anyways. Just to show how bored he was, he had even gotten tied of reading the news articles about himself. He was pacing a trench in the cell floor. Just because he wasn't granted bail, surely that didn't mean that he was NEVER GOING TO GET OUT OF HERE! He'd had it up to here with nothing to do!

Every time a new prisoner was brought into the cell block Heyes' hopes would rise just a bit in anticipation that they may offer the opportunity of some stimulating conversation. But, alas, he was generally met with; "Hey! You're Hannibal Heyes ain't ya! I heard you was brung in here! Whoohoo! I'm in the same cell block as Hannibal Heyes!" Oh brother. Heyes was beginning to feel that it was an insult to be considered the cream of the crop when this was the best the crop had to offer.

One of the drawbacks of allowing an intelligent and devious mind to reach that level of boredom is that it usually finds a way to liven things up a bit. Heyes' mind was no exception, and when he had finally arrived at the point where he was ready to start banging his head against the bars, he found a way to put it to better use. He started taunting his jailers. A dangerous game indeed, but since there was nothing better to do...

Even though the main jailhouse in Cheyenne was considered to be the most secure in the Territory, every jail can only live up to the standards of the people who guard it. Considering the reputation of the Cheyenne jail, Heyes would have thought that it would be manned by experienced guards who knew all the tricks and wouldn't put up with any nonsense from the inmates. He must have been feeling somewhat insecure after his dealings with Morrison because he entered that establishment with a heavy heart and a dulled mind. However, once secured within his cell, Heyes soon came to realize that Wyoming tended to use this jailhouse as a training ground for its new recruits and the sparkle came back into his eye. Heyes was finding it surprisingly easy to pull off the simplest slight of hand maneuvers that Silky had been so kind as to teach him and snatching the ring of keys off the belt of a young unsuspecting guard as he passed by the outlaw's cell turned out to be the easiest of diversions. He would then take great pleasure in giving a little whistle and dangling the keys outside the bars right in full view of the proper owner and the reaction of the inattentive guard would be well worth the risk of the deed.

"Oh, Deputy..."

"What do you want Heyes? OH GEESH! How did you get those?!" And the young man would come running back and grab the ring from the outlaw's hand. "Don't do that! You know how much trouble I'd get into if the Sheriff found out about that?!"

"Sorry Deputy, but you dropped them. Just trying to help you out." And he'd flash his impish smile, and he'd be believed—at first. But then it started happening too often and it didn't take long for the numerous deputies to get wise to Heyes' talented fingers and they started keeping better track of their key rings. Heyes saw it as doing a service; he was helping to educate these young fellas so they'd be better at their jobs. All they would need is to come up against a crafty old outlaw who was serious about breaking out and then they'd really be in trouble. Yup, Heyes told himself, if he wasn't going to escape himself then he may as well be doing something worthwhile.

With his next lesson, he'd found himself a piece of strong wire that had been used to repair the rope mattress supports on his cot and had fashioned it into a handy little lock pick. He unlocked his cell door and then closed it just enough for it to appear to be secure and then waited for one of the younger less experienced deputies to walk by. Once the unsuspecting victim had passed his cell, Heyes would quietly exit it and then coming up behind the young man, would wait until he turned around and then scare the living bejesus out of him!

"Dag nammit Heyes! How did you get out of your cell?!"

"Well you left the door unlocked Deputy."

"I did not! I didn't, did I? Are you sure I did?"

"Well how else would I have gotten out?"

At which point the deputy would hustle Heyes back into his cell accompanied by the hoots and corkles of the other prisoners who found this whole scenario quite entertaining.

Heyes wasn't being believed this time though. His reputation was turning the tables on him, since all of the deputies—as young and inexperienced as some of them were, had heard of Heyes' considerable talents when it came to opening a locked door. Every time he'd pull one of these stunts he'd find himself handcuffed to the bars while a thorough search was made of his person, his meager belongings and the other contents of the cell. Nothing was ever found as Heyes would always return the bit of wire to the cot in such a way that it would appear never to have been removed. It was becoming quite a mystery, and soon even the old hands were beginning to think that maybe the greenhorns just weren't being diligent enough in their duties. They'd all taken to giving Heyes' cell door an extra hard slam every time they closed it, just to be sure.

All of this nonsense had been entertaining for a while, but then one night, Heyes was feeling particularly frustrated and ended up turning his little game into something a tad bit more serious. It was well past midnight and as usual, he couldn't sleep. It never got completely dark in the cell block as the lamps were never put out, just turned down and that in itself made if hard for him to shut his mind down. He found himself worrying about his future, worrying about his partner, worrying about Lom, worrying about how he was going to get through the next bloody boring day! Pace, pace, pace.

How come all the other men in this cell block could sleep and he couldn't? Listening to their snores and nighttime mumblings just frustrated him even more. This was madness. What was he thinking, allowing himself to be contained like this? He had to get out of here. The Governor wasn't going to be coming to his rescue, he'd been ignoring Lom's inquires for the past week. What amnesty deal? Hannibal Heyes was going to stand trial and pay for his life of crime. The banks and railroads weren't going to allow it to be any other way. Heyes had been a fool to believe otherwise!

Kid must be doing better by now. Lom said he was doing better—considering. Whatever that meant. Heyes could just walk out of this jailhouse right here and now and somehow make his way back into Colorado. He'd accomplished more difficult tasks than that before, he'd find a way. Then he could snatch up the Kid and they could lay low for a while till Curry was okay to travel. Maybe rest up a bit at Devil's Hole and plan one more big job and then hightail it to South America. Anything was better than being stuck here—totally impotent.

He had made up his mind, he was going to go! He retrieved his makeshift lock pick from the mattress, grabbed his hat and his jacket and quietly unlocked the cell door. He made a quick survey of the other sleeping lumps in their cots then slipped out of the tiny cell and headed for the heavy wooden door that separated the cell block from the office area. It took him a little longer to pick that lock as it was much heavier than the cell locks were, but he still managed to get it done. He quietly pushed the door open, just enough to get a quick survey of the room on the other side and then felt that it was safe enough to open it further and slip through.

The office area was well lit but quiet. He tip toed into the room, looking around, seeing if there was anything handy lying about that might come in useful. Nothing. All the rifles were locked up and he couldn't see any money there for the grabbing. There was a safe in the corner and he was tempted, but then he heard the rustling of papers and a quiet cough coming from an open door leading into what Heyes assumed was another office. He vetoed the safe idea.

He glided silently over to the front door and even had his hand on the knob, preparing to open it when he was stopped by a nagging whispering memory in his head; 'I swear Joshua, you're incorrigible. I'm beginning to think you ask for the treatment you get at the hands of these lawmen.' and then, adding to his guilty conscience even more; 'Listen to me Joshua...there are people out here who care about you and Thaddeus...we will not just sit back and forget about you, do you understand?'. Heyes sighed. That just wasn't fair! Where was this coming from? It didn't use to matter to him what other people thought. What were they to him?

Now all of a sudden he realized that he did have people going out on a limb for him and for Kid. He did have friends, and yes, family who were willing to sacrifice in order to stand by him. Lom had done a lot for them and it wasn't his fault at all if the Governor reneged on their deal, and Heyes making a run for it now would probably put Lom in a great deal of trouble. And what about Jesse, and Belle and the girls? They'd done so much to help them and were still helping them. And suddenly Heyes felt the chill of responsibility concerning two young ladies who admired him and respected him and had given their love and friendship willingly and without measure. Beth and Bridget only knew Joshua Smith and with a shot to his heart he thought; What would they think of Hannibal Heyes? What would it do to them if he now decided to throw all that away and disappear into the night?

With a sigh of regret he backed off from the door wishing in some ways that he could just go back to being Hannibal Heyes, the outlaw. Choices were so much simpler then. But the time had passed for that now, he had developed a conscience. Turning, he stood for a moment looking through the open door of the adjacent office where the Sheriff on night shift was doing his paper work. If Heyes were really quiet, he could just sneak back down to his cell and it would be like nothing had happened. But then he heard the scrapping of chair legs on the floor and he knew it was too late.

The Sheriff walked into the main office intending to get a re-fill for his coffee cup when he looked up and found himself staring into the deep brown eyes of the notorious outlaw. Heyes gave him his most charming smile.

"Howdy Sheriff."

The empty coffee cup clattered to the floor and Heyes found himself staring down the barrel of the Sheriff's revolver. Heyes dropped his smile and raised his hands. The Sheriff was on him in an instant, spun him around and slammed him into the wall. A quick search revealed the makeshift lock pick and the fun and games had come to an end.

Later that morning, Lom came into the cell block to find Heyes lying on the mattress on the floor with his hands cuffed behind him—again. The cot, with its handy supply of lock picks had been removed.

"Aww, Heyes." Lom said in a long suffering tone. "What have you gone and done this time?"

"Howdy Lom." Heyes greeted his friend innocently while he struggled to get to his feet from the reclining position, still feeling a twinging protest from his injured rib. "Any word from the Governor?"

"No."Lom answered in a somewhat defeatist tone. Then he gave Heyes a closer scrutiny and changed the subject. "You didn't sleep again did you."

"Oh, it's just so hard to sleep with all the excitement going on around here." Heyes answered him sarcastically. "We almost had a jailbreak during the night."

"So I heard. You're not doing yourself any favours Heyes."

Then Sheriff Turner, who was pretty much the head honcho at this particular establishment, entered the cell block and unlocking the door to Heyes' cell, beckoned him over.

"Seems you've had a bit of a reprieve, Mr. Heyes." He said, while unlocking the cuffs. "Though after your escapades of last night, I wonder at the wisdom of it. Here, turn around."

Heyes did so while sending a questioning look towards Lom. Turner snapped the handcuffs back in place again, so that Heyes' hands were now shackled in front of him.

"I finally found you a lawyer who's willing to take your case." Lom explained. "He went to the Judge and convinced him that keeping you locked up in a cell 24/7 for three months was inhumane, so the Judge agreed that you could get out for an hour everyday so long as you were shackled and in the company of a lawman at all times."

"Oh. Well. Thank you."

"If you make me regret this Heyes..."

"No no, I won't. Honestly Lom, thank you." Lom nodded an acknowledgment, then accepting the keys for the handcuffs from Turner, he escorted his friend towards the exit. "Where are we going?"

"I told your lawyer to meet us over at the cafe." Lom answered him. "I figured you'd had enough of jail food by now and could do with a decent meal."

Heyes smiled. "Ohhh yeah. You're a good friend Lom."

"Huh hu. After that stunt you pulled last night I'm surprised Turner let you out at all." Lom commented. "What were you thinking? I thought you said you were prepared to deal with this situation."

"I know Lom, I'm sorry." Heyes was sincere in his apology. "I was getting a little claustrophobic in there that's all. I had actually decided to not go through with it when the night guard caught me." Lom sent him a skeptical look "Honest Lom, I was heading back to my cell, not out the door, otherwise I'd have been long gone by now."

Lom had to concede that that was more likely. He sighed as they headed across the street towards the cafe. "Yeah, alright Heyes. I guess I believe you. You're too darn good at what you do to have gotten caught that easily."

Heyes smiled broadly. "Thank you Lom. That's a rare compliment coming from you."

"Heyes, why do I get the feeling that the only person you're truly honest with is Kid?"

Heyes dropped his flippant demeanor. "He's not the only one Lom."

"Hmmm."

They entered the cafe and Lom headed them over to a table that was a little ways away from the other patrons so they could talk in a certain amount of privacy.

The young waitress headed over to take their orders. Heyes tucked his hands under the table, feeling a little embarrassed about the cuffs. Especially in front of such a pretty young thing.

She smiled sweetly. "What can I get for you gentlemen?"

"I'll just have coffee." Said Lom "But I think my friend here would like something more substantial."

"Oh yes!" Heyes was adamant. "Coffee for sure. And just whatever you're serving for breakfast will be fine." And he flashed his dimples at her.

She smiled and blushed slightly. "I'll be right back with your coffee's." And off she skipped to go get them.

"Will you cut that out!" Lom admonished him once the waitress had gone.

"What?"

"Oh, never mind." Then Lom brightened up and motioned over to a young man who had just entered the establishment. "Here he is."

Heyes stood up as the lawyer approached and shook hands with him as best he could given the current circumstances.

"Good morning Mr. Heyes." He greeted his new client. "I'm Steven Granger. I have been retained by Sheriff Trevors here to act on your behalf."

"Hmm, good." Said Heyes as they both sat down. "I take it that means you're my lawyer."

"Yes, Mr. Heyes. I'm your lawyer." Granger agreed, already wondering if he hadn't made a mistake. "I see you're taking advantage of your reprieve from the jail. I hope you don't intend on abusing this privilege."

Heyes smiled a little at the thought that an hour a day instead of full bail was to be considered a privilege. But he decided he'd better play the game at least until he had this awfully young lawyer figured out.

"No, Mr. Granger, I don't intend to abuse the privilege."

At that point coffee arrived and two cups were set down in front of them.

"Oh, hello Steven." The waitress greeted the new addition. "Would you like anything?"

"No Betsy, that's fine. I'm just here on business."

She nodded and smiled and then glanced over at Heyes as he was holding the coffee cup up to his nose and with eyes closed was inhaling the rich aroma of the freshly brewed beverage. It was then that Betsy noticed the handcuffs and her interest was piqued even more as she realized who this dark, handsome stranger probably was. It had been the buzz of the town when Hannibal Heyes had been brought in to await trial but it had never occurred to her that she would actually be serving him in her cafe! She moved off, a little lighter in her step, to retrieve his breakfast.

Lom rolled his eyes. Heyes was totally oblivious. He took a sip of the hot liquid, and with his eyes still closed savoured its strong flavour in his mouth before allowing it to finally slide down his throat.

"Ahhh, coffee." He murmured. "That stuff they serve over at the jail can only be described as coloured water or mud soup, depending on the time of day."

Then Betsy returned with a large plate covered with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and ham and plunked that down on the table in front of him, along with a set of utensils.

"Here's your breakfast, Mr. Heyes." She said sweetly. "I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you." He answered, with a huge smile. "I'm sure I will."

The smile he received back was radiant, and then she practically skipped off again to tend to her other patrons. Heyes immediately tucked into the meal, and despite the awkwardness of the handcuffs, was making short work of it indeed.

"So," Mr. Granger began as he watched Heyes put away his breakfast. "I understand from Sheriff Trevors that you were hoping for a pardon from the Governor and thereby avoid doing any prison time for you crimes. Is this the outcome you expect from your trial?"

Heyes took a swallow of coffee and considered his answer.

"No Mr. Granger." He finally admitted. "I don't think the Governor is going to honour the deal that was made with us, otherwise he would have stepped forward by now."

Granger nodded. "I'm afraid I agree with you." He admitted. "Not only do you not have any written proof of this arrangement, but the deal you supposedly made was not even with the current Governor. Chances of it standing up in court are pretty slim."

"But it could be noted." Heyes continued. "that in keeping with that deal, my partner and I have lived honest lives for the last five years proving that we can do it—that we in fact have done it. So sending us to prison in order to reform us would be kind of redundant."

"Yes, we can go at it from that angle." Granger agreed. "It will depend on whether the jury believes that prison is intended for reformation or for punishment. There are many powerful people in this territory who wish to see you punished for your crimes and the fact that you have been inactive in your criminal careers for five years would be irrelevant to them."

Heyes nodded, this was sounding pretty much like what he was expecting. Betsy came by again to take away the empty breakfast plate, and re-fill the coffee cups.

"Would you like anything more Mr. Heyes?"

"Yeah." Heyes mumbled. "Keys to the handcuffs and a fast horse."

"Pardon me?"

Heyes smiled up at her. "Never mind. That was a wonderful breakfast Betsy, just keep the coffee coming and I'll be a happy man."

Betsy smiled again and poured the coffee into his cup. She then started to move away to the other tables, completely forgetting about Lom's empty cup until he beckoned her over again. She smiled apologetically at him as she came back and re-filled his as well, but then her eyes were back on Heyes and she would have spilled coffee all over Lom if he hadn't brought her attention back to her duty.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sheriff."

"Huh hu."

"Would you like anything else?"

"No, thank you."

Betsy was still smiling at Heyes as she moved off to attend to the other patrons. Lom shook his head but Heyes wasn't even aware of the interplay going on around and about him. He had other things on his mind.

"Of course we could always play on the sympathy of the jurors." Granger continued after Betsy had left. "The fact that you have been staying out of trouble shows that your intentions of going straight were honourable. That you never killed anyone and that you only went after the larger corporations may have the general citizenry in favour of leniency. It's not likely you'll get off scott free, but maybe a reduced sentence."

"How reduced?" Heyes asked.

"Well, maybe ten years."

Heyes groaned. "Ten years...may as well be twenty." He mumbled.

Lom was getting nervous. He felt for his friend but they couldn't back out of it now. There might still be a chance that the Governor would come through for them, but if Heyes lost hope he might just disappear and any chance for leniency would be out the window.

"Heyes?" Lom tried to pull him out of his musings. "Heyes!"

"Yeah... what?"

"Come on, don't give up. It's early days yet." Lom tried to sound encouraging. "We still have time before your trial date. You and Kid did a lot of jobs for influential people over the years, we can try to get in touch with some of them, get their testimonies."

"Indeed" Granger seconded, willing to grasp onto anything hopeful. "That would be a good place to start. Get me a list of names to contact and I'll see what I can come up with."

"There you go Heyes. That's something you can work on this afternoon." Lom suggested, relieved that they were able to make some progress at least.

Heyes wasn't looking particularly enthusiastic. Lom sighed. This was going to be a long summer.

"How are you feeling?"

"Bored."

"No, I mean your shoulder,"

"Hurts."

"Comon' Jed, you've got to give me a little more than that."

David and Jed locked eyes, brown into blue. Jed missed his partner even more.

"It just hurts David! What do you want me to say?" Kid was frustrated. "I'm just stuck here, chained to this bed! I can't feed myself, I can't tend to my own necessities, I can't go for a walk, go for a ride, damn! I can't even read! Heyes would love that one! When are you going to let me out of here?!"

"You'd rather be in a jail cell?"

"At least in a cell I could move around, tend to my own needs! This is just maddening—and embarrassing!"

David sat back in his chair and crossing his arms, intently surveying his patient. Jed was standing on the far side of the bed, staring out the window at the two horses contentedly grazing out in the pasture, his left arm still cuffed to the wrought iron head board. Frustration emanated off him in waves. The man was about to blow.

David knew that Jed needed something to distract him, to keep him occupied, but he was at a loss as to what to suggest. Rick refused to remove the handcuffs and David refused to give Curry the go-ahead to move into town and away from this haven. Jed was strong enough for the trip, had been for some time but David knew that Jed would not be getting the tender loving care in a jail cell that he was getting here, and right now, tender loving care was exactly what that shoulder needed.

David sighed. Heal the body but let the brain go to hell?

"I know Jed. I'll talk to Rick see if I can convince him to let you out of this room for a while. Some exercise would be good for you about now."

"Yeah, why don't you do that." Jed answered, somewhat sardonically. Heyes wasn't here, Curry figured he'd just fill in for his partner. "Go talk to Rick, he'll be so sympathetic to my plight."

David nodded quietly to himself, got up and left the room. There was no point in continuing the conversation when his patient was in this kind of mood. Sam was snoozing in the chair by the bedroom door, waiting for Rick to arrive from town to relieve him. David continued on passed him, and as he went by the kitchen, Belle handed him a cup of morning coffee and smiled sympathetically.

"How is he this morning?" She asked.

"Testy."

"Yes, I'd noticed."

"Is Rick not here yet? Running a bit late isn't he?"

"Yes, a little, but he should be here any time now."

"How about Jesse?

"Out in the barn."

"Good." Said David as he headed towards the front door, still nursing his cup of coffee. It was time for a conference.

Sure enough Jesse was out in the first barn cleaning up the stalls. With Sam on guard duty all night and Rick being more diligent with his prisoner, some of the chores were getting neglected. So for now it was up to Jesse to fill the gap. He smiled as the Doctor walked in, knowing something was up.

"Well David, what's the prognosis this morning?"

"He's feeling the strain of his confinement."David answered. "He needs to get out, blow off some steam."

"That's not surprising. He's a young man, not used to being holed up like that."

"You know him better than anybody here Jesse, do you trust him?"

Jesse stopped what he was doing and considered the question for a moment.

"Well, he gave me his word he would behave himself. Still, I don't think it would be a good idea to put too much temptation in his path. What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know." David admitted. "Even just to get out and be able to walk around the yard a bit, brush his horse, do something. I know he thinks he's got lots of energy, but he'll tire out pretty quickly. Just some fresh air would do him the world of good though, help to relieve some of that stress we're all well aware is building up."

"Well, Rick ought to be here any time now. We'll see what he says."

Richard was skeptical.

"Who's to say he won't just high tail it out of here the first chance he gets? We all know what happened last time."

"He wasn't thinking clearly last time Rick, you know that." Jesse reminded him.

"And now that he is thinking clearly, you think that poses less of a risk?"

"He gave me his word."

"And you trust him?"

"Yes."

"I donno. As far as I'm concerned he should be locked up in a cell by now. He's strong enough to be driven into town."

"He's getting the medical attention out here that he needs" David responded.."Once he's in a cell who's going to be doing that—Joe?"

"Oh come off it Doc. You know darn well both you and your wife will be over at that jailhouse every other hour to make sure he has all the comforts of home." Then he stopped and hesitated a little over the next bit of news. Oh well, may as well spit it out. "He's not going to be in your care for much longer anyways so you may as well stop worrying about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I got a telegram from Morrison last night, he's on his way back here to collect Curry and extradite him to Wyoming." Rick informed them. "And about bloody time too."

David was livid. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I just did!"

"He's not up to a trip that long! Who does Morrison think he is? He just snatches up my patients in the middle of the night and disappears over the border! Hannibal wasn't ready for a trip like that, and neither is Jed!"

"Well 'Hannibal' made it didn't he?! And so will Curry! You keep making the mistake in assuming that these men are your patients rather than our prisoners! You have say over their medical care while they're here, but Morrison has the say as to where they go and when! Get used to it Doc; you're not the one in charge here! Morrison won't be here for a few days yet, so that's how much time you have to get your 'patient' ready for the road!"

At which point Rick turned and stormed out of the barn, leaving his horse standing in the middle of the aisle wondering who was going to feed him breakfast.

"Dammit! Dammit, dammit DAMMIT!"

"Well." Sighed Jesse putting a consolatory hand on the doctor's shoulder. "How about another cup of coffee David?"

Rick had flared up quickly into a rage. If there had been a cat available he would have kicked it, or tried to anyways. It's not such an easy thing to kick a cat. He hated losing his temper, but he was just so frustrated with this current situation and Doctor David Gibson wasn't helping much! As far as Rick was concerned, keeping the prisoner here where he had to be constantly under guard was wearing everybody a little thin, and it wasn't doing Curry much good either.

One more day, Rick fumed. One more day and he was taking Curry into town where he could sit in a damn cell until Morrison came to collect him. Enough of this! Rick paced back and forth over by the second barn, smart enough even in his anger to avoid going anywhere near the prisoner just in case he lost it altogether and started using Curry as a convenient punching bag. The three dogs, who had been snoozing in the hay decided it was time to slink off to a more comfortable location.

Rick fumed and snarled and gnashed his teeth, and then finally began to calm down. Curry was just as frustrated as he was, probably even more so and the deputy knew that. This forced inactivity was nearly at an end for Rick and he at least, got time off and could head back into town every evening for a beer and an occasional romp in the sack with some fetching wench from the saloon. But the outlaw's forced confinement was just beginning and was going to get worse—far worse, so, maybe Rick should cut him a little slack.

But what if he made a run for it again? Jordan seemed to think that he wouldn't, but what if he did? Dammit! Well, just keep your eyes on him, Rick told himself. Don't let him out of your sight and keep the rifle handy. But again, what if he made a run for it? I'd have to kill him is all. Finish what was started. Yeah, that would go over really well with this group. Dammit!

Rick stopped pacing and stood, staring back towards the house, chewing his lip. David came out of the first barn, then stopped when he saw Rick and the two men stood and stared at each other. Finally Rick threw up his hands in defeat and walked over to the doctor.

"Alright!" He said. "You win! But just in the house and in the yard area—no getting on any horses! And tomorrow I take him into town."

David smiled. "Agreed. Thank you. But tomorrow, I'll take him into town. He's still not strong enough to be riding that far. I'll take him in the surrey."

"Fine"

So that was how Jed Curry got to spend his last day on the Jordan ranch a relatively free man. Before going to bed for the day Sam had brought the two horses back in from the field so Jed could spend some time in the barn, brushing his gelding. If he got through that without collapsing then maybe there were a few other things around the place he could do that weren't too strenuous.

Rick sat on a bale of hay, a coffee cup in his right hand and his rifle casually, but obviously resting in the crook of his left arm. Other than the sounds of the brush scraping against the horse's hide, and the occasional soft murmurings from Curry to the animal, silence reigned.

It felt good to be out of the house for a while and Jed found himself slowly relaxing as he brushed his horse. It was a warm summer morning and the barn smelled sweet and fresh. The sounds of the horses contentedly munching their hay and of the birds chirping up in the rafters couldn't help but wash away the frustrations of his confinement.

After a while, Curry snuck a glance over at the deputy and thought that there'd be no harm in trying to strike up a conversation with man. Rick seemed like an ok fella, even if he was a lawman.

"So, deputy…where do you call home?"

"Wyoming." Came the sterile reply.

"Were you born there?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Never moved anywhere else?"

"Nope, born there, grew up there, live there."

"You married?"

"Nope."

"Is deputing your full-time job?"

"Nope."

Curry signed. He stopped brushing his horse, and leaning against the animal's shoulder, sent Rick an exasperated look.

"Not much for talking are you?"

"What do you want Curry? A blow by blow description of what's gonna happen to you, like the 'good doctor' gives you?"

"Just trying to make conversation." Curry mumbled and went back to brushing Buck.

Silence reigned again. Then Rick sighed and relaxed his countenance just a bit.

"Yeah, alright." He consented. "I just can't decide whether to trust you or not."

Curry smiled. "You can trust me deputy, I'm not going anywhere." Then added under his breath. "Probably wouldn't get very far anyways."

"I was married." Rick offered up the information. "She died though, in childbirth. Lost both of em."

"Oh, that's rough."

"Yeah, it was." Rick admitted. "But I got a nice little spread there over by Murreyville. It keeps me busy."

"So you don't work for Sheriff Morrison full time then."

"Hell no. He just calls on me for certain jobs. Like when he needs a good hand with a rifle."

Curry stopped brushing Buck again and looked over at the deputy.

"You the one who shot me?"

Rick met those brilliant blue eyes that had just turned to ice and held them.

"Yes."

A strained silence settled over the barn. Rick didn't tense, didn't move a muscle, but he was ready and so was his rifle. Just let Curry try to make a move towards him—it would be his last.

Then Jed nodded and smiled slightly, the tension easing.

"You're good."

"I know."

Any further conversation, if there was going to be any, was interrupted by Beth coming into the barn. She was smiling at Thaddeus, until she saw Rick sitting there and her smile dropped. She looked embarrassed and irritated all at the same time.

"Oh, Deputy Layton. I didn't realize you were in here." Then she added as an afterthought; "But then, where else would you be."

Rick got the hint.

"Yeah, alright." He stated as he stood up from the hay bale. "But I'll be right outside Curry, so don't even think about going anywhere."

Curry nodded his acknowledgement. Beth waited until the deputy had left and then sat herself down on the same bale and sent her friend a somewhat melancholy smile.

"Papa says you're feeling better today."

"Yeah, I am. Shoulder still hurts, but that morphine works wonders."

"Papa also says that you're probably going to be leaving tomorrow."

"Yeah, I think that's the plan."

Beth nodded sadly, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm going to miss you."

"Well, I'm going to miss you too Beth." Curry admitted this quite honestly. Then, trying to lighten the mood, he smiled and gave Buck a quick pat on the shoulder. "There is something you and your sister can do for me while I'm gone though, if you wouldn't mind."

Beth brightened up.

"Of course Thaddeus, anything you'd like!"

Jed smiled even broader as he recognized Belle in her daughter's words.

"Well, I don't suppose I'll be taking Buck with me and he and Karma-Lou could really do with some regular exercise again. Do you think you and Bridget could start taking them out for a run now and then? It doesn't have to be every day, but a few times a week would be good for them."

"Really!?" Beth stood up in her excitement, her eyes sparkling with the new adventure. "That would be wonderful! We wouldn't mind at all looking after your horses for you—that is until you and Joshua can come back and get them."

Kid turned solemn

"It might be a while before we can get back for them Beth. You know that don't you?"

Beth nodded, her smile fading.

"Yes, I know."

"So it would take a real load off my mind, and Joshua's too, if we knew they were being looked after proper." Then he brightened up again. "They're not gun shy either. You and Bridget can practice your rifle shooting from horseback if you want. Though watch Karma, she can be a little skittish at times."

"I don't really want to shoot a rifle anymore." Beth admitted

Curry looked confused.

"Why not? I thought you and Bridget really enjoyed your target shooting."

"Yeah, but…." Beth started, then she met Thaddeus' gaze for an instant, glanced at his wounded shoulder and then dropped her eyes altogether.

A shadow of guilt fell over the Kid. He'd have given anything for these girls not to have witnessed that assault.

"I'm sorry Beth." He said quietly. "That must have been a terrible day for you and your sister."

"Yes." Beth admitted in a tight, small voice as she fought to control the sudden tears that threatened. "I was so scared, Thaddeus. I thought you were going to die, I was so scared!"

Jed held out his left arm to her and giving up the fight against the tears, she ran into his embrace and held on tight. Jed held her as best he could, despite the pain it caused his shoulder. He began stroking her hair and whispering soft assurances to her feeling that he wanted to take away all her worries and concerns. He could feel her body trembling, and her heart beating against his chest. He thought about how much she had grown in the past four years, how her head just fit so naturally under his chin and he held her tight against him trying to calm her sobs. He noticed that she wasn't a little girl anymore, that she was developing into a pretty young woman and felt an unexpected stirring inside that had nothing to do with wanting to comfort her. Then he felt ashamed.

He closed his eyes and sighed. What was he doing, thinking about her like that? She was family, like a niece or a sister! And she was just so young. He couldn't allow himself to think about her like that! He thought back to what she had done that day when he was out of his mind and trying to run. How she had risked her own life to save his. It had scared him to death when he heard about it, but another part of him admired and respected her for her courage and determination. So long as she never tried something crazy like that again! He was not at all comfortable with the notion of her dying for him. His protective instinct kicked in even stronger and he held her tightly in his embrace and gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

He opened his eyes and found Jesse staring at him.

A tingling of shame spread over Jed again as the two men gazed at each other. The silence in the barn grew heavy broken only by Beth's sobs that were gradually subsiding, though her hold on Jed did not loosen

Finally Jesse broke the silence.

"Belle wanted me to tell you that there is some lunch up on the porch if you'd care to join us."

Upon hearing her father's voice, Beth pushed away from Jed, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Okay, Papa." She said with a wet smile and she walked over to him and gave him a hug before continuing on towards the house.

Once she was out of earshot Jesse turned to Jed, not quite sure what he was feeling at this moment.

"Is there anything you need to tell me Thaddeus?"

"No Jesse. On my honour, there isn't."

"Okay. Come on up to the house and get something to eat."

Then Jesse turned and walked away, following his daughter. Jed stood alone in the barn for a few more minutes, guilt and shame turning his stomach into a knot.

Late afternoon had rolled around by the time Sam had awakened and was heading towards the ranch house in search of some coffee and maybe a light snack before supper time. The first thing he noticed was Rick leaning back in one of the porch chairs with his feet up and his hat pulled over his eyes. Not exactly a picture of the diligent guard at work.

Sam started coming up the steps, and then noticed another sublime figure to his left and was stopped in his tracks with surprise. The sight that met his eyes was one that in all his born days, he would never have expected to see; Jed 'Kid' Curry, notorious gunslinger, was sound asleep in Belle's rocking chair and nestled safe and content in the crook of his left arm was Jesse Jr, also sound asleep. This particular outlaw was really confusing Sam's well established vision of world order.

Just then Jesse Sr. walked out the front door of the house and seeing what had Sam standing there with his mouth open, smiled and then beckoned the young man to join him for a walk in the yard. Sam turned and followed Jesse down the steps, wondering what was up. As soon as Jesse reached a point where he considered them to be out of earshot of the house, he turned and assessed the young man before him.

"Well Sam," Jesse began. "I know you have a job to finish here for Morrison but I'm thinking that you might have had a change of heart as to your choice of career paths. Am I right?"

Sam hesitated. How is it that Jesse could know this? Sam hadn't said anything. Like most young men Sam was totally unaware that the confusion and turmoil that he had been suffering from these past few weeks had been written quite plainly on his face.

"As you know there are about six two year olds down in the south pasture that need to be rounded up, broke out and sold before fall." Jesse continued. "You're a good hand with the horses Sam, and I need a good man here to help out with the work this summer. On top of that, you're young and strong and you still bounce! I take a fall off of one those broncs I'll hit the ground with a THUD and then be laid up till next spring. So, I'm offering you a job here if you want it. You get done with Morrison and decide you might prefer it here, well, you're welcome to come back."

Sam was speechless for a moment. He never would have believed that after what he had done that Mr. Jordan would be willing to let him come back to work here. He glanced over towards the house where he knew the three Jordan women were preparing the evening meal.

"Do you think Bridget will ever talk to me again?"

Jesse smiled. "I don't know." He confessed. "She certainly won't if you continue on with your current line of employment. If you come back to work here she may not have any choice but to forgive and move past it. Only time is going to tell on that one."

Sam hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Thank you Mr. Jordan, I think I would like to do that. Maybe not permanent, but at least until I can figure out what else I really want to do with my life."

"Fair enough." Jesse agreed. "But Sam, if you ever show disloyalty to me or to this family again you'll be off this property faster than you can wrap your bedroll. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Jordan." Sam agreed. "And I promise, you won't regret giving me a second chance. I won't betray your trust again."

"Fine." Said Jesse. "Now, you and Rick are welcome to join the family for supper this evening since you'll all be leaving in the morning anyways." And then added as an afterthought. "Hopefully we can all find a way to get along."

Later that night when the household was once again quieting down into slumber, Belle and Jesse were lying in each other's arms in bed, discussing the most recent turn of events.

"What do you mean you already knew?" Asked Jesse incredulously.

"Well, not 'knew' as such, but had my suspicions." His wife assured him.

"How?"

"All you had to do was look at Beth light up every time Thaddeus came into the room."

"I never noticed anything!"

Belle smiled and gave her husband an assuring pat on his chest.

"That's alright dear, you can't notice everything." She told him. "That's why there's two of us."

Jesse groaned and ran the hand that wasn't wrapped around his wife over his eyes.

"What are we going to do about this?" He wondered. "What about Thaddeus? Does he feel the same way?"

"I don't know." Belle admitted. "I don't think he knows how he feels right now. He has too many other things on his mind."

Jesse lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling. He'd always thought that it would be his eldest daughter who would be giving him these kinds of problems first.

"Well, it may all just work itself out anyways." Jesse reasoned. "Thaddeus is leaving in the morning and there's no telling when, or even 'if' he's ever going to get back here again. Not that I want to see Thaddeus go to prison!" He quickly expostulated. "I just mean, some time apart might be a good thing."

Belle smiled but kept her thoughts to herself. She couldn't help but remember Beth's premonitions and to feel in herself that there was much more to this than just a teenager's crush and an outlaw's loneliness. Time would tell, indeed.

The trip into Brookswood the next morning was totally uneventful. David had arrived earlier than usual and had helped to get Curry ready for the change in location. As far as Jed was concerned the most important thing David did was give him another dose of morphine. Not enough to really knock him out, but enough to ease the pain that being jostled about in a surrey would otherwise cause his injury.

The goodbye's to the Jordan family had been awkward and painful all around and Jed had been somewhat relieved when Rick had finally hustled him into the waiting surrey and handcuffed him to the armrest. David then picked up the reins, and clucking his horse into motion, headed down the roadway with Rick and Sam riding shotgun on either side of the vehicle.

Much like Heyes had done before him, Curry felt the heartache of leaving his horse behind. Moving past the field at a steady jog trot, he couldn't take his eyes off the two animals that were out there contentedly grazing totally unaware that the last connection to their previous lives was disappearing down the road. To Curry, the severing of that tie held more foreboding than the clanging of a cell door closing. They weren't just horses. They were freedom.

Other than the occasional query from David as to how Jed was fairing and Jed's non-committal reply, silence reigned for the duration of the trip in to town. Surrounded by people, Curry had never felt so alone. Arriving on the main street of town he hardly noticed the curious glances from the people they passed but as they got closer to the Sheriff's office it became difficult not to notice the attention he was getting. Once word that Kid Curry was being brought in by the Doctor had spread around town, it didn't take long for a small crowd to develop at their destination, all straining for a look at the infamous outlaw.

Sheriff Jacobs was alerted by the congregation outside and stepped out onto the boardwalk to receive the prisoner. He was instantly bombarded by a flood of questions.

"Is that really Kid Curry, Sheriff?"

"Yes, I suppose it is." Came the reply

"So, he didn't die after all huh?"

"He sure looks like death warmed over though."

"I hear he's the fastest gun in the west! Or—well he used to be, probably ain't no more, ha ha."

Well that one hurt. Curry sent the man the iciest stare he could muster through the morphine haze and that was the end of the comments. Didn't stop them from standing and staring though and Kid felt particularly self-conscious when Rick unlocked the cuffs and hustled him a little too quickly out of the surrey. Kid stumbled and found himself in the humiliating position of having to lean on Rick in order to avoid falling right to the ground.

"A little more care, please Deputy." David suggested. "He is drugged remember."

"Yeah, yeah." Richard grumbled, but then did show a little more concern as he helped Curry to find his footing again and then escorted him up the steps and into the office.

"Well Mr. Curry." Jacobs greeted him. "I've been hearing a lot about you—and about your partner. You don't intend on giving us any trouble here do you?"

Curry acknowledged the man through his light headedness and then smiled.

"No Sheriff, no trouble."

"Good. Joe, take them in and put him in the first cell."

"Yes sir, Sheriff."

Then, just as Mike had done with Heyes, Rick with Curry in tow, followed Joe into the cell block and then pushed Curry into the same cell that had previously been occupied by his partner. Curry took a couple of steps forward and then stood there swaying until David nipped into the cell before Joe could shut the door, and grabbed hold of Jed's left arm to steady him.

"Aww Doc." Joe complained. "Are we going to go through this again? That Sheriff Morrison gave me hell last time."

"Morrison's not here right now Joe." David reminded him. "And I just want to make sure the prisoner is comfortable before I leave. I don't think Sheriff Jacobs will mind."

"Well…I don't know." Joe began.

"Come on deputy." Mike commented with a resigned sigh. "No point arguing with the Doc over stuff like this, they'll be fine."

David smiled. "I'll call you when I'm done Joe. I won't be long."

"Yeah, okay." And the two deputies left the cell block.

"Okay Jed." David said with a relieved sigh. "The bunk is just straight ahead of you. Can you walk over to it?"

"Sure Doc."

And Curry took some steps forward and between the two of them, he managed to get over to and seated on the bunk without too much assistance from David. Then David did a quick exam of his patient, including checking his pupils and his heart rate and making sure that there was no telltale blood on the bandages that would indicate a tearing from the jolty ride. All seemed fine. David then sat down on the bunk beside Jed and gave him some words of caution.

"You haven't been formally introduced to Sheriff Morrison yet Jed." David began. "So a word of warning. That man is a bit of a bully so you need to be careful around him alright?"

"Careful?" Curry repeated.

"Yes. Don't provoke him in any way." David continued. "He won't hesitate to hurt you the fastest and most efficient way open to him. In your case that means your shoulder. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah." Curry said with a smile. "Be nice to Morrison."

David was becoming a little frustrated finding himself being confronted with the same flippancy from Jed concerning lawmen as he'd had to deal with from Hannibal.

"Please don't take this lightly Jed." He continued, trying to speak calmly, but still get the message across. "Morrison won't care how permanently he hurts you. If you provoke him in any way he'll rip your shoulder apart just to make a point. Do you understand? The way it's healing now there is a good possibility that you'll get most of your mobility back, but if anymore damage is caused to it… well, just don't provoke him. Alright? You understand me?"

Curry met David's intense gaze and then nodded.

"Yeah Doc, I understand."

"Good." Said David as he stood up. "Try and get some rest."

"Oh I am so sick and tired of hearing those words."

"Well, I can ask the Sheriff to get you a paper or something to read, how's that?"

Curry considered it for a moment.

"No." He finally responded. "I think I'll try and get some rest."

David smiled.

"Fine. I'll stop in and see you tonight."

Curry nodded and stretched himself out on the bunk. Chances were very good that he was asleep before David left the cell block.

Heyes was finally asleep. Getting out for an hour a day was helping to ease some of his frustration and going over the past few years, trying to come up with names for the lawyer had given his brain something to work on. But he still couldn't shut things down at night. For over two weeks he had been constantly pacing the cell; back and forth, up and down, figure eights and then back and forth again. Total exhaustion would finally allow him to lie down and shut his eyes to indulge in a partial dose, but then those would be filled with stressful dreams and mournful forebodings, so they didn't offer much in the way of rest.

Lom had finally convinced Sheriff Turner to allow the local doctor to come in and take a look at the prisoner. That learned gentleman took one look at the red rimmed eyes and the sunken cheeks and left a bottle of laudanum to be given to the outlaw in dosages every night, otherwise the man might not be fit to stand trial three months down road.

That first night Heyes had taken the sleeping draught he had stayed down for fourteen hours. Once the drug had calmed his thoughts, his body and mind were so exhausted that they just didn't want to wake up again. Lom had dropped by a couple of times to check up on his friend only to find him laid out on his mattress on the floor, a thin blanket partially covering him and only the slow rhythmic breathing of deep sleep to show that he was still alive.

When he finally came to, he was bleary eyed and still feeling exhausted, but hungry, so Lom escorted him over to the café again for some food. They sat there at that same table in companionable silence while Heyes nursed his coffee and yawned every five minutes. Lom didn't like the look of him at all. Locking Hannibal Heyes up in prison for twenty years was very likely going to kill him, that much was becoming obvious and the Sheriff was beginning to feel like his executioner. But what else could he do at this point? They'd come too far for Heyes to turn back now and Heyes was being stubborn about it anyways. Something about an obligation—a promise made that he wouldn't back out of. That's all he'd say.

"Come on Heyes, what do you want to eat?"

"I donno." Heyes mumbled. "Something hot and comfortable."

"Oatmeal?"

"Yeah, why not. Oatmeal."

Lom gave Betsy the order and within a few minutes she returned with a large steaming bowl. She was shocked at the change in the handsome man, he looked exhausted, worn out. She hadn't thought that being in a jail cell for a few weeks would do that to a person. She left the table feeling sorry for him, even though she hardly knew him.

"Look Heyes." Lom began. "I'm going to have to leave you for awhile. Things to take care of back in Porterville. The town can't run itself."

Heyes nursed his oatmeal, staring down into the bowl.

"I suppose." He sounded disappointed.

"You knew I couldn't stay here all summer. I'll get back in a few weeks. In the meantime you and Granger can hash things out between you and get a plan of action going. Okay?"

"I suppose."

Lom sighed, feeling defeated.

"You'll still get out for your hour every day." He tried to sound encouraging. "There are plenty enough deputies around here to escort you. Go for a walk around town or something, get your blood going a bit."

"Yeah, you're right Lom, I'm sorry." Heyes tried to perk himself up. It was a valiant effort. "I know you can't stick around here indefinitely, you've got things to do. I just feel awful, I guess I burned myself out."

"I'll say." Lom agreed. "I thought you had figured out ways to shut that brain of yours off when you needed to rest."

"Yeah, so did I." Heyes answered. "None of them were working. I'll have to come up with a new technique." He took a deep breath and straightened himself up. He smiled over at Lom and a little bit of the sparkle had come back into his eyes. "Let me finish my breakfast and down a couple of more cups of coffee and then we'll go for a walk. You're right, it'll probably do me good."

Lom smiled back, feeling a bit more relieved.

The walk did do Heyes some good. He took his jacket along just so he could drape it over the handcuffs so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Most of the people in town kinda already knew who he was though and he found himself giving a nod and a smile to many of the folks he passed in the street. It did boost his spirits a bit to know that at least the common people still thought kindly towards him, unfortunately it was going to be the wealthy corporations who were going to have the final say in the matter. Nope—no such thing as a fair trial, well, depending on your point of view Heyes supposed.

By the time they got back to the jail, Heyes was feeling much more like his normal self but that just made it all the harder to step back into the confined space of his cell again. Still, he allowed Lom to escort him into the cell block, just in time to witness a couple of the deputies coming out of his cell. Apparently they had taken advantage of his absence by supplying him with another cot for his matrices, one without wire bindings this time.

"Awww, gee."Commented Heyes sarcastically. "And just when I was beginning to build a good rapport with the rats too."

The looks that the two deputies threw back at him were anything but amused. Lom sighed and shook his head as he removed Heyes' cuffs and closed the cell door on him.

"I swear Heyes." He said. "You don't do yourself any favours. If you cut these guys some slack you might just find yourself being treated better."

Heyes leaned up against the bars and smiled a little ruefully at his friend.

"Yeah, someone else said something similar to me not too long ago." He admitted. "Maybe I do need to change my attitude a little bit. But it's just so easy to needle them!"

Then a familiar but unwelcome individual came into the cell block and approached Heyes' cell. The smile dropped from Heyes' face and he moved away from the bars. Morrison smiled as he held Heyes' eyes with his.

"Good to see our lessons paid off Heyes." He commented. "You'll do well to remember them, considering where you're going."

Lom felt himself bristling a little at this man's obvious malice.

"That's hardly a forgone conclusion— Sheriff…?"

"Morrison."

"Oh, yes. Heyes as told me about you."

Morrison smiled over at Heyes again.

"I'm sure he has." Then back to Lom. "And you are…?"

"Trevors, Sheriff out of Porterville."

The two law officers shook hands, though at best it was a mere formality. There was already no love lose between the two.

"Just stopped by to check up on my prisoner before heading out of town again." Morrison commented. "I'd heard our boy here took advantage of my absence last week and got up to a few of his old tricks. I just wanted to make sure he's where he's suppose to be."

"Leaving Sheriff?" Heyes asked with a slight sneer in his voice. "I thought you'd want to stick around for the festivities."

"Don't you worry about that Heyes, I'll be back in time for the trial. Wouldn't miss that for the world."Morrison assured him. "But in the mean time I've got other fish to fry."

"Wouldn't be my partner would it?" Heyes asked with a hard look in his eyes.

Morrison just smiled at him then tipping his hat to Lom, turned and walked out of the cell block.

Lom released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Geesh Heyes." He said. "I see what you mean about that one. The Kid better watch his step."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "Do me a favour will ya Lom? You hear anything about how Kid is doing will you let me know? Nobody's telling me anything."

"Sure Heyes." Lom agreed. "I'll get in touch with that Jordan fella again and let you know what I find out. You know he's offered to pay part of your lawyer fees. That's some friend you've got there."

"Yeah, I know Lom. He is that."

"Okay Heyes. I'll swing by and see you again before I leave town." Lom promised. "Then you and Granger better get down to it. Your trial date is going to be here before you know it."

So, the friends said goodbye and Lom left the cell block leaving Heyes on his own again. Heyes glanced around at the other prisoners, wondering if anybody new had arrived, but no, just the same dreary lot that had been present fifteen hours ago. No stimulating conversation there. Heyes went over to his new cot and laid down in the hopes of maybe getting a little bit more sleep, but that wasn't going to happen either. Well, probably for the better. He'd get some more laudanum for the night and get himself back on some sort of schedule.

After a few minutes he sat up and glanced over at the prisoner in the cell next to him.

"Hey Hank?" He called to the prone individual with the hat over his eyes.

"Yeah, what do ya want?"

"You done with today's paper?"

In answer to the question, Hank grabbed the paper and shoved it through the bars and then promptly returned his hat to its resting place and went back to his snooze.

"Thanks."

Heyes gathered up the paper, got it back in order and settled in to try and read the news of the day. He managed to kill about fifteen minutes with that endeavor before he realized that he'd just been reading the same page over and over again. He gave it up and tossed the paper aside in frustration. His brain was doing it to him again. It was running wild like a team of horses charging downhill and there was nothing he could do to put the brakes on! He sighed in total frustration, ran his hands through his hair and then punched the mattress just for good measure.

He looked around the cell block, sent a little bit of a sardonic smile to Carl over in the far cell who was watching Heyes have yet another meltdown. Then Heyes' eyes kind of glazed over as his thoughts turned inwards, and almost without thinking about it, he stood up and started to pace.

TO BE CONTINUED

.


	7. Chapter 7

Adjustments

Dr. David Gibson was not going to get caught flat footed again. As soon as he was finished with his calls for the day he disappeared into his home office and started getting information organized. He skipped supper altogether, much to Tricia's chagrin and then, to add surprise and disappointment to her deteriorating patience, he nipped out the side door and headed, once again into the heart of downtown Main Street.

Tracking down Sam was not that difficult a task. There are only so many places a young man stuck in town is going to spend an evening and David's first choice struck gold. Pushing through the bat wing doors of the saloon he stopped and quickly surveyed the room until his eyes lighted upon the man in question standing at the bar, enjoying a beer.

"Sam, how are you this evening?"

"Doc!" Sam answered after gulping down his mouthful. "I wouldn't expect to see you in here. You and your wife have a fight or something?"

"No, not yet." David answered truthfully, with a bit of foreboding. "I need to have a word with you Sam and ask a favour of you."

Sam looked a little apprehensive. "A favour?"

"Yes." Then David took out an envelope he had tucked inside his jacket and handed it to Sam. "I've gathered together all the records I've kept of Curry's treatment and medications, and I've also added some of my own notes as to what I would recommend for the on-going healing process. I've also added some pre-measured dosages of painkillers with instructions that I would like you to give to Curry once you're on the road. The records, I would like you to pass on to the doctor in the town where Morrison is going to be holding Curry until his trial. Okay? Can you do that?"

"Well, why ask me?" Sam grumbled, not really wanting to get involved with all this doctoring stuff. "Why don't you just give it to Sheriff Morrison when he gets into town?"

"Because I don't trust Sheriff Morrison Sam, that's why." David admitted rather testily. "The Sheriff would probably consider it too much of a nuisance and toss everything into the garbage. But it's important, alright? Please, will you do it?"

Sam fingered the envelope and chewed his lip while he debated the pros and cons. Sam was a bit afraid of Morrison and if he found out that Sam was doing the doctor's bidding there could be hell to pay. On the other had, Sam did like Jed Curry and still had twinges of conscience over what had happened; maybe this would be a way to make it up to the outlaw, just a bit.

"Yeah, okay." Sam finally agreed. "I'll keep it safe with my stuff and try to give it to Curry when Morrison's not looking."

David smiled.

"Thank you Sam. It is important"

Just then they were interrupted by the barkeeper who didn't really appreciate bodies taking up space at the bar if they weren't going to order anything.

"C'mon' Doc, you're a good guy and all, but order something will ya?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry Bill. I'll have a shot of whiskey."

Bill supplied him with his drink and moved off. David took a small swig and followed it with a relaxing sigh. Sometimes a shot of something a little stronger than coffee helped to ease the strain of a stressful day—week—month.

"So what do you plan to do with the rest of your evening Sam?" He asked. "Going back out to the Jordan place for the night?"

"Oh, no." Sam answered. "I need to stay in town for when Morrison arrives. He may want to leave right away."

"Yes." David agreed somewhat bitterly. "I do recall he has a tendency to slip away in the middle of the night. Hence, my wanting to see you now instead of waiting until the morning."

"I doubt he'll be here tonight. Maybe tomorrow." Sam surmised. "I think I'm going to drop by and visit with Maribelle this evening. Her folks kind of like me and well, so does she."

"That sounds pleasant enough." David agreed. "You no longer interested in Bridget?"

"Well sure I am." Sam admitted. "But she's not too interested in me right now so I figure I may as well go where I'm appreciated."

"That's sound thinking." Said David kind of wishing that he had a similar option open to him. "I'll be doing one more check on Curry for the evening and then go on home myself." At which point he finished his whiskey, nodded a good night to Sam and headed out the door.

When David got over to the jailhouse, Sheriff Jacobs was just making a fresh pot of coffee, since he knew he was going to be there all night long guarding the prisoner. He was just pouring himself a cup when the good Doctor walked in the door.

"Hey Doc, how you doing this evening?"

"So far so good. How's Curry?"

"Quiet."

"Is he asleep?"

"Nope, just quiet." Jacobs smiled. "He's nothing at all like what I expected."

"Hmmm. Give him time, he might surprise you."

"Oh, I'll be keeping my eye on him don't you worry about that. You want a coffee?"

"Sure. Why not. Let me take one in for Jed too."

"Okay. I'll grab the keys."

Jacobs handed the two coffees to David, got the keys from his desk and the two men headed into the cell block.

Curry was stretched out on the cot with his hat over his eyes, apparently quite relaxed. He sat up as soon as he heard the cell door open and smiled a greeting to David as the doctor came up to him and handed over a coffee.

"Thanks Doc."

"I'll be out in the office." Jacobs announced as he closed the cell door. "Just give me a shout when you're ready to leave Doc."

David nodded acknowledgement as he sat down beside the prisoner and they both took an appreciative sip of their coffees.

"How are you feeling tonight Jed? How's the shoulder after the ride in to town this morning?"

"Not bad considering."

"Good." David nodded. "I'm going to be cutting you back on the morphine now, and we'll see how that goes."

Curry was suddenly concerned. "Why? By how much?"

"I'll still be giving you some at night so you can sleep." David assured him. "But if you can put up with some pain during the daytime I think it best if we start cutting you back. I've given some to Sam for you to be able to take if it gets too much on the trip to Wyoming, but the less you take during the day the better. Okay?"

"But why?" Asked Curry again, feeling a somewhat irrational fear at the idea of the painkiller being withdrawn. "Isn't it better to not hurt at all?"

"Not necessarily." David answered, noting Jed's anxiety and feeling even more so that it was time to start cutting back.

"David! WHY!"

David sighed and took another sip of coffee, trying to think of the best way to explain the dangers of the drug.

"Often what happens with morphine, and other painkillers like it, is that if you keep taking it over a prolonged period of time you'll start needing it even when you're not in pain anymore."

"Well, why?" Curry was confused. "Why would you want to keep taking it if the pain is gone?"

"It just has an effect on the body. You start to crave it." David explained. "It's almost like not having it causes pain rather than it relieving pain that's already there."

"Oh." Curry sat for a moment, contemplating this and drinking his coffee. "That's not good."

David smiled at Jed's predisposition towards understatement.

"No." He agreed. "That's not good."

The two men sat quietly again, drinking their coffee. A heavy silence fell over the cell.

"What's the matter David?" Jed finally asked his companion.

"What? Why do you think something's the matter?"

"C'mon', you're as bad as Heyes when it comes to talking a blue streak." Curry accused him. "What's wrong?"

David sighed again and took another sip of coffee. Curry waited patiently. The similarities between this young medical man and Jed's partner were becoming more and more apparent. Jed had opened the gate and he was willing to wait and see if the doc came through. After a couple of minutes Curry was rewarded with a response.

"I'm just worried about your injury. I don't know what kind of doctor is going to be treating it after you leave here."

"Well, what's the problem?" Curry asked. "It's healing up fine."

"Yes it is." David agreed. "I'm actually very pleased with how it is healing. The human body is an amazing thing and given time can repair itself of some of the worst injuries imaginable. I once treated a young man who…" He hesitated, catching Jed's ironic smile. David gave a little self-conscious laugh. "Yeah, never mind. I just wish Morrison would let you stay here until your trial date so we could get started on some exercises for you, but well, that's not likely to happen."

"You worry too much David. Either that or there's something else bothering you."

"It's Morrison." David admitted the simple fact. "I don't trust him. He doesn't seem to care about the welfare of his prisoners just so long as he gets them from point A to point B, and he doesn't care how he does it. He knew Hannibal was injured and deliberately snatched him out from under my care because he didn't like me giving my professional opinion. Now, I just know he's going to do the same thing with you."

Kid felt a tight knot hit his stomach. "What do you mean 'Hannibal' was injured?"

David looked over at Jed, surprised. "Didn't anyone tell you what happened?"

"No, not to that extent. What happened?"

David sighed, feeling a twinge of regret. He thought Jed already knew what had happened to his partner.

"He 'provoked' the lawmen and got beaten up pretty badly when he was first taken into custody." David explained. "Then Morrison gave him a bruised kidney and a cracked rib while he was incarcerated here. I was concerned that he may have suffered more serious internal injuries but Morrison snuck him out of town before I could be sure."

Curry groaned, and leaned back against the wall behind him. "Oh geesh. And Heyes keeps telling me I'm the hot head. I don't get it. That's not like Heyes."

"Well, Bridget slipped him a lock pick and when Morrison found it Hannibal wouldn't tell him who gave it to him. He paid a heavy price for his loyalty." David explained.

Curry rolled his eyes. "Oh brother! Two peas in a pod those two. I'm amazed they actually get along, they're both stubborn as mules."

David smiled, thinking that Jed had shown quite a stubborn streak himself on occasion. "Still, Morrison shouldn't have hit him that hard. Especially after he'd already taken that beating out at the Jordan's place for attacking Sam."

"He did what?!" Curry was incredulous.

David shrugged and nodded.

Curry shook his head. "I still don't get it." He admitted. "Heyes is usually very protective of himself; he's the one who's always holding me back from getting into fights." He smiled a little, remembering his partner's ways. "He's a thinker, more brain than brawn you know?"

"Yeah, well. We'll all act out of character when we're scared." David pointed out. "And watching you die on the table and not being able to do anything about it terrified him."

Curry looked at David with his mouth open, disbelief emanating from him.

"What do you mean, 'I died'? I'm here now, how could I have died?"

David shrugged again. "You stopped breathing Jed. You'd lost a lot of blood and your body just gave out. If I hadn't done some extensive studying of resuscitation techniques back east you wouldn't be here now. Even at that it was very close."

Curry ran his left hand over his eyes and then through his curls as this information sunk in.

"Ohhh, geeesh. Yeah, Heyes would have lost it—especially if he knew that it was Sam who betrayed us."

David nodded. "He was reacting to the emotions of the situation and not really thinking clearly. Much like you did when you climbed out the window under a full dose of morphine." He added ruefully. "The only difference is, Hannibal can remember doing it, but he was no less out of control than you were."

Curry nodded. "No wonder Belle was so concerned—oh and the girls! They were there throughout all of this?"

"Yes."

"Ohhh no. Awww, poor Beth. No wonder she was so…." And his thoughts went back to the previous day in the barn. Guilt washed over him again.

"It's not your fault Jed." David assured him, misunderstanding where the guilty conscience was coming from. "Those girls rallied and were very helpful to both me and their mother when it came to looking after you. They obviously care a great deal about you. You and Hannibal."

"Yeah, I know." Curry admitted. "I just hope we don't end up disappointing them too much."

David knitted his brow and looked over at Jed with a thoughtful expression.

"I swear." He said. "You and Hannibal are the oddest pair of outlaws I've ever had the privilege of knowing. Not that I know too many outlaws—but what I've heard and read about you two, well you're just not what I would have expected. You both have an edge to you that I find hard to understand, but you're not malicious, in fact you're just the opposite. Makes me wonder why you chose the life that you did."

"Well, not so much a choice Doc, as just sort of falling in to it." Curry told him. "And Heyes and I have been trying to make things right."

"Yes, I know. Jesse told me about the amnesty bid and that's why he's trying to help you out." David admitted. "Do you think you have a chance at it?"

Curry sat quiet for a few moments, staring at the floor. Then the hand went through the curls again.

"I donno David." He finally said. "We've been in custody, what—six weeks now?"

"Yes, about that."

"Still no word from the Governor. I think we're on our own." Then he was off the bunk and suddenly pacing the cell, feeling agitated. "I wish I could talk to Heyes, find out what he's thinking. But still, no jail cell is going to hold him if he decides he's going to go so he must be planning on seeing it through. Dammit!" And he whacked the bars with his fist. "I just wish I could talk to him!"

"Well, that's not likely going to happen." David told him. "Morrison's adamant about keeping you two apart probably for that very reason; he doesn't want you communicating."

"You're right David." Curry scowled. "I haven't even met the man yet and I already don't like him."

"Yeah well, sometimes dislike is a healthy thing." David responded. "Just remember what I said and don't provoke him."

"Yeah, I'll try Doc."

"In the mean time, here's a dosage of morphine if you want to just mix it in with what's left of your coffee then at least I'll know you'll sleep tonight." And he stood up and taking a small packet out of his jacket pocket, he handed it to Jed. "And I better get home to Tricia. I think she's going to be a little steamed at me."

Curry smiled. "Trouble at home Doc?"

"Oh well, nothing we can't sort out." David hypothesized. "Besides, she's probably right. If you ever get married Jed, just remember when you have a disagreement; she's probably right."

"Okay Doc, I'll keep that in mind."

"Goodnight. Hopefully I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, goodnight. Good luck."

It was a very fine evening as David walked home from the jailhouse. Well into summer now the nights were long and usual very pleasant and tonight was one of the nicest, with dusk just starting to settle in. Unfortunately the good doctor wasn't enjoying it as much as he would have normally due to his twinges of guilt over the way he had ignored his wife that evening.

He had been so wrapped up in getting everything prepared for his patient and then making sure that he got the information to Sam before Morrison got into town that he had totally shut Tricia out of his plans. He had even skipped out on supper and that wasn't fair, since Tricia had taken the time to prepare it. Besides that, now, he was hungry and was probably only going to receive hot tongue and cold shoulder for dinner.

David Gibson loved his wife, there was no doubt about that. He had been new in town, still hadn't bought his little house or opened up his practice yet, wasn't even sure that this was the town he was going to settle in. Meeting Tricia had clenched that decision for him.

He had been walking into the Mercantile just as she had been walking out and as soon as their eyes had met there was a connection. Tricia Baxter had grown up on one of the numerous ranches in the area and had learned one important thing from that life, in that it wasn't the life she wanted. She was young and pretty and intelligent and had no shortage of suitors, but they were all ranchers and though it was fun to have her choice of dates for any of the social events she wasn't taking any of their advances seriously.

Her friends teased her good-naturedly, warning her that she was going to become an old spinster if she continued to be so picky. Tricia's response to that was that she would rather be an old spinster than marry into a lifestyle that she already knew would make her miserable. So when that tall dark and handsome stranger showed up in town she was totally smitten and when she discovered that he was also a doctor, well! That just made the romance all the sweeter.

The courtship only lasted three months. Once they were married, David took his new wife home to his new house and introduced her to the realities of being married to a new practitioner. It was a lot of 'new' all at once and the first six months of married life, though joyous in many ways was also quite trying on the young couple and there had been a lot of adjustments to be made.

One of the things they had always tried to have and hold in their relationship was respect for one another and David knew that his treatment of his wife earlier in the evening had been anything but respectful. Indeed, though Tricia was always understanding of the unpredictable hours of a medical man and was always willing to help in the care of a difficult case, these past six weeks had been hard on her. Now that the patient had been moved into town and David was no longer having to make the trip out to the Double J ranch, Tricia had been hoping for a nice romantic dinner at home with her husband. And then her husband had disappeared out the side door without saying a word!

As David entered the well lit house, he was trying to work out in his own mind what he was going to say to make things alright, but as usual, as soon as he saw his wife sitting dejectedly in the kitchen over a solitary cup of tea all his arguments went out the window.

"I'm sorry." Were the first words out of his mouth, smart man.

Tricia looked at him with a long suffering sigh and getting up moved over to the stove.

"I've tried to keep you supper warm. I'm sure you're hungry."

"Yes, I am. But Tricia, please…" And David crossed the space between him and his wife in quick strides and took her in his arms. He hugged her close, but her body remained tense, she was mad. "Let me explain." He continued. "I'm not trying to justify, it wasn't right leaving here without a word. I just want to explain."

"Fine." She answered him. Then she pulled away from his embrace, removed his plate from the stove and plunking it down on the table, sat back down herself in front of her cup of tea.

David sat down and kind of sort of picked at his food.

"It's just that…" He started awkwardly. "Well, I'm worried about Jed and the treatment he's going to get from Morrison. That shoulder is so close to healing well, but the next stage is crucial and I'm afraid that if anything happens or the next doctor to treat him doesn't know what he's doing, then Jed could still loose partial use of it."

"I know you want what's best for your patients David." His wife admitted. "But sometimes you take it too far. You can't be in control all the time."

"I know that."

"Then why can't you let Jed go? There are other doctors you know."

"Butchers you mean!" David responded with a little bit of heat. "Most of the 'doctors' I've seen out here haven't got a clue what they're doing. They haven't even had any formal training, it's all just guess work! It would be tragic if Jed lost the use of his arm now after all we've done to get it healing properly!"

"David, you saved his life." His wife pointed out. "There's nothing tragic about that!"

Then Tricia hesitated, looking into her half empty tea cup. She wasn't sure if she should bring up her next thought as David might view it as a betrayal but she also thought that it was important and he at least consider the other side of the coin. David knew there was more coming and waited patiently, knowing that his wife often had input that may not occur to him. Finally he saw her make her decision, and she looked him in the eye.

"Did you ever think that maybe, Jed 'Kid' Curry loosing the use of his gun arm might not be such a bad thing?"

David was taken aback! "Wh…what?!" That thought went against everything he held true to his profession. "How can you say that?!"

"David, think about it!" Trish pleaded with him. "You saved his life! Isn't that enough? The man's an outlaw, what if you save his arm and he somehow escapes custody and then what if he goes back to his old ways and ends up actually killing someone?! How would that make you feel knowing you might have been able to prevent it?!"

"Aww, Tricia, no." David was adamant. "That's just too many 'if's' to be plausible. What 'if' he got the pardon and turned out to be a model citizen or ended up using his talents for upholding the law instead of breaking it. We can't know how his life is going to go! And besides that, there's no proof that he is a killer! On the contrary Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry are noted for avoiding violence in the jobs they've pulled. To suggest that he's going to turn around and start killing now is totally unfair."

"David, I'm just saying; you've done enough." Tricia repeated. "Let him go. Another doctor can take over his care. Once he's out of this town, he's out of your practice and therefore no longer your concern."

David sat back in his chair, no longer hungry. He knew that to some degree Tricia was right; he did tend to get too wrapped up in his patients. But on the other hand, how could she expect him to be complacent about handing over the care of a patient to another doctor when the job was only half done. It was a dilemma and one that he was having a hard time adjusting to.

"Yes, alright. You do have a point to some degree." David admitted. "But a lot of what I was doing this evening was in compliance with what you're saying. There were just certain things I had to do to insure the proper continuation of his treatment before I could feel at all comfortable about letting him go. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, David. Of course I understand that." Tricia assured him. "Just next time, let me know! I had no idea where you went or what you were doing, and that's not fair!"

"I know, and I am sorry about that." David agreed. "I was just so focused on getting it done that I wasn't thinking and I apologize. You have every right to be angry. But." He added. "Don't expect me not to care about my patients, or give them less than my best just because of who they are and what they may or may not have done. Agreed?"

Tricia sent her husband a small smile. "Agreed."

Then, later that evening David discovered something else that every married couple comes to realize sooner or later; that make-up sex almost always makes the argument worth having in the first place.

Heyes was bored. Bored, bored, bored. BORED! Did they really think that one hour a day outside of this tin box was to be considered a privilege?! Though the mild sleeping draught he was given to take every evening did allow him some relief from the mundane wakefulness of every day in and day out, it only worked for about five hours out of every twenty-four. And the doctor would not allow him any more than that, afraid he might get addicted or some such nonsense. What did that mean, addicted? Addicted to what? SLEEP?!

All the other inmates of the cell block had been rotated out numerous times over ever since Heyes had first taken up residence so he had given up even trying to remember their names. If by chance he wanted the attention of any of them, it was with a resounding "HEY YOU!" or if that didn't work an empty tin cup thrown against the bars usually got the desired effect. The initial awe of being in the company of Hannibal Heyes generally wore off if the inmate was incarcerated for more than a couple of days. The constant pacing of the outlaw and the cynicism that was the usual response to the most casual of enquiries tended to keep everybody at a distance and Heyes was pretty much left alone. No, Hannibal Heyes was not adjusting well to life behind bars.

When Morrison had gone to tend to his other 'fish' he had left Mike behind to tend to Heyes. The sheriff didn't have too much confidence in the local constabulary especially after Heyes' near escape early on in his confinement, so nope, Morrison wasn't going to trust the security of his main catch in the hands of anyone other than his own proven deputy. So, when Lom wasn't in town, which was often, Mike became Heyes' regular escort and it can be said that the two men at least, attempted to get along.

"Hey Mike." Heyes started with an air of innocent joviality. "Sure is hot today. Aren't you hot?"

"It is the middle of summer Heyes; it's supposed to be hot."

"Well…there's the saloon right across the street. Wouldn't you like to have a nice cold beer?"

"A beer?" Mike stopped and looked down at Heyes from his towering 6'6 inch bulk. "You'd just love for me to get drunk wouldn't you."

"No! No, no, that's not it at all Mike." Heyes insisted while giving the deputy a two-handed shackled pat on the arm. "I was just thinking that a nice cold beer would go down real good right about now."

"Uh huh." Was Mike's response. "Fine. You want a beer, let's go get you a beer so long as you don't mind drinking alone. I'm on duty."

"Oh! Oh, I don't mind." Heyes insisted, surprised that it had been so easy and thinking that he should have tried this ages ago.

Once inside the establishment Heyes felt a great deal of the stress of his confinement start to melt away and the smile that he beamed was as genuine as it was rare these days. They sidled up to the bar and Mike ordered and paid for Heyes' beer. Once it arrived, Heyes took in a mouthful, and just as he had done with his first cup of coffee at the café, he held onto the beverage and savoured the tingling coldness of it before swallowing it down and then taking in another mouthful. How long had it been since his last beer? He couldn't even remember. No, wait a minute—it had been that afternoon in Brookswood. That last time he had taken Karma out for a gallop. The last time he'd played a game of poker. The last time…..Kid.

Heyes sighed. He took another swig of beer and then turned around to lean back against the bar. There weren't too many other patrons about yet seeing as how it was only late morning, but there was a friendly poker game going on at one of the center tables and of course Heyes couldn't help but feel drawn to it. Without him even realizing it the game, like a magnet began pulling him towards it until he felt Mike's large hand on his shoulder, dragging him back to the bar.

"Where do you think you're going Heyes?"

"Just one hand, Mike. What harm would it do?"

"What are you going to play with? You don't have any money."

Heyes smiled up at the big deputy. "Would you spot me?"

Mike didn't look too impressed with that idea.

"C'mon' Mike! Chances are good I'll double your money in one hand. And if I do lose it, then I'll buy you a beer next time!"

Mike couldn't help but snorkel a little at the unlikelihood of that happening, and then, like most people, he gave in to Heyes' charismatic manipulations and agreed to spotting him for one hand. Heyes approached the table, feeling a nervous excitement that hadn't touched his soul for many a moons and he wondered where that was coming from. Still, he supposed, it'd been a while.

"Good morning gentlemen." Heyes greeted the players. "Would you mind if I sat in for a hand or two?"

"Oh, Mr. Heyes!"

"Of course. It would be an honour!"

Much to Heyes' surprise and mild embarrassment (not to mention, pleasure) a few of the players actually stood up and shook his hand(s) and gave him a welcoming slap on the back.

"By all means, Mr. Heyes. Have a seat!"

"We don't play for big stakes here Mr. Heyes, but we do have fun."

"Great!" Heyes responded with a huge smile. "Thank you." And he settled in to enjoy himself.

Mike settled in at an empty table just across from the players and prepared to be bored for an hour. However, he was pleasantly surprised to find himself being drawn in to the game and to discover that Heyes' reputation as a talented poker player was hardly unwarranted. One hand stretched into two and two into three by the time Mike realized that the hour was more than up and it was time to get his prisoner back to the jailhouse.

Mike had enough poker etiquette to not interrupt the hand being played, but once that was done and Heyes was raking in the pot, he gave a quiet discreet cough and got to his feet. A look of disappointment flashed across Heyes' face, but he quickly covered it up and smiled at his fellow players

"Gentlemen, thank you." He said sincerely. "It has been a real pleasure. But my companion has indicated that it is time for me to return to my lodgings."

"Aww, that's a shame."

"Sure is, you brought our little game up to a whole new level."

Heyes' smile broadened. "Thank you." He repeated. "Now, ahh, I did promise Deputy Mike here that I would double his money for him so if you gentlemen don't mind I'll just keep that amount and return the rest of my winnings to the pot."

"What? But why?"

"Yeah, Mr. Heyes. You won that fair and square."

"Yeah, yeah I know." Heyes agreed. "But what am I going to do with it where I'm going?" Then seeing the gloom that these words had settled over the table, he quickly added; "Besides, I'd like to join you again and I wouldn't want you thinking I was just after your money."

His ruse worked and everyone perked up and there were smiles all around.

"Sure thing Mr. Heyes. Any time."

"Yup, we're usually here every Friday morning for a game. You'll always be welcome to sit in."

Heyes nodded and then acknowledging Mike, the two men headed for the exit. Heyes handed him the coins as they stepped out to the street.

"Here Mike." He said. "Have a beer on me when you get off duty."

"I just might do that." Mike accepted the coins. "I take it this is going to be a regular stop on Friday mornings now until your trial gets in the way."

Heyes smiled up at him. "Would be nice."

"Hmmm. We'll see."

Sheriff Turner looked up from his paper work as the two men entered the office.

"It's about time you showed up. I was just about to send a posse out to look for you."

"Sorry about that Sheriff." Mike answered. "We were just over at the saloon, everything's fine."

Turner got the keys from the drawer and headed towards the cell block.

"Well, try explaining that to Mr. Granger." He commented. "He's been in here twice looking for his client. Still, I suppose it won't hurt him to actually have to work for his fee on this case."

Heyes had been back in his cell for about an hour and was actually settled enough to get into reading and comprehending one of the dime novels that had been making its way around the cell block, when his lawyer returned. Heyes stood up and approached the bars so that they could confer in some measure of privacy.

"Any luck?" Heyes asked him.

"Some." Granger nodded. "Mr. McCreedy got back to me. Says he's too old now to make the trip here in person, but he'll get together with his lawyer and write up a testimonial." Heyes nodded. "He also wired a tidy sum to help cover some of you and your partner's expenses. It seems you have no shortage of sponsors Mr. Heyes."

Heyes' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Uncle Mac sent money?! Okay, now I'm convinced; we must really be in trouble!"

"He's your Uncle?" Granger looked confused, then he shook his head and carried on. "Judge Hanley is retired now and also agrees to send a testimonial, and that he will convey his greetings to the Governor and remind him of an obligation owed—whatever that means."

Heyes nodded again. "The Judge knows about our amnesty deal."

Granger nodded.

"What about Conrad Zulick?" Heyes asked.

"I haven't heard anything back from him." Granger admitted. "And seeing as how he is the new Governor of Arizona I tend to doubt that we will. Is there anyone else you can think of?"

Heyes leaned against the bars, his chin resting on his crossed arms, lost in thought.

"Hmmm. Harry Briscoe? Oh no! What am I thinking? Ahhh, former Governor Baxter? We did some work for him a while back."

Granger sighed. "You apparently have a lot of friends in high places Mr. Heyes, but it seems that none of them want to come down to acknowledge you. What about companions, people you grew up with?"

"You mean who aren't outlaws?"

"There must be somebody."

Heyes sighed dejectedly. "Lom, Jesse and I guess there's Clem." Then he shook his head. "No, not Clem. We only know her because her father was an outlaw." Heyes sighed again. "It seems our friends are either too high to come down, or too low to come up. Well, if Zulick is too busy to acknowledge us then maybe you could try Deputy Marshal Donovan also over in Arizona." Then Heyes thought about that and reconsidered. "But coming forward and admitting that he knows us could put him into a lot of trouble too so….maybe not." Heyes smiled at the lawyer, knowing he wasn't being too helpful. "I'm sorry Mr. Granger, most of the people who might have some influence here would be put into compromising positions if they were to come forward in a court of law and admit to knowing us."

"Yes, I can see where that could be a problem. Even if we protected them from prosecution they're reputations would be irreparably damaged." Granger agreed. "We're quickly running out of time here, and you can bet that the prosecution is preparing a solid case against you and I'm sure they're not having any trouble doing it. Anything you can think of at this point would be helpful. In the meantime I will continue to work on the sympathy plea; difficult childhood, falling into stealing in order to survive, that sort of thing."

Heyes nodded. The moroseness that had been alleviated by the poker game was settling back onto him again

"Any word from Lom?"

"He expects to be back in town next week." Granger told him. "I'm sure he'll have some news about your partner at that time as well."

"Okay." Heyes straightened up from the bars and turned back to his bunk and the dime novel.

Granger hesitated a moment before leaving, wishing he could say something more optimistic. But truth be known trying to set up a solid defense for a known outlaw who was in no position to deny his guilt was a task that even the most seasoned of barristers would shrink away from. Hannibal Heyes had just been too damn good at what he did.

"Jed! How are you doing this morning?"

Curry removed his hat from over his eyes and sat up. "Morning David. I'm doing okay. How are things with you?" He asked pointedly.

"Great!" David answered with a twinkle in his eye.

"Uh huh."

"Here's a cup of coffee for you, thought you might like one."

"Yeah, thanks David." Curry answered as he took the beverage, thinking it best not to mention that he'd already had two cups.

"So, let's take another look at that shoulder." David suggested as he put his own coffee down on the floor and started to unwrap the bandages.

It wasn't quite the ordeal that it had once been since the open wounds had pretty much healed over by this time. The stitches had been removed a while back and everything looked good. Even the open wound on the back had covered over and though there was going to be quite a scar there, it was looking healthy enough.

At this point David was more concerned with what was going on inside the shoulder. As much scaring as was showing on the outside, there was going to be just as much if not more on the inside and that's where the problems would be. If the doctor in the next town did not encourage Jed to move and stretch those muscles and break down the scar tissue then everything would just seize up and Jed would be left with limited use of the arm.

Then, in the back of his mind David would recall what Trish had said about that not being such a bad thing. But the doctor in David just couldn't accept that and he knew he had to give Jed the best possible option that was open to him and encourage a complete recovery.

David gently removed the gauze that was holding the arm snug against Curry's torso and then very carefully removed the sling. Jed was a little hesitant and quickly brought his left hand over to support the right, not wanting to let the injured arm hang loose.

"It's alright Jed." David assured him. "Give me your left hand. Take hold like we're just meeting for the first time and shaking hands. Okay, now squeeze, tight as you can. Good. That's a strong grip you've got there. Now do the same with your right. Squeeze, tight as you can "

The effort it took for Curry to give David a good grasp was very apparent in the tightness of his expression and the paled complexion.

"Okay, that's going to need work." Said David. "Now, just relax."

Then, still holding on to Jed's right hand, David slowly pulled his arm out, away from his body. Jed tensed and gasped with pain. David brought the arm back in to Jed's torso, then took hold of his elbow and pulled the arm up, creating much the same response as the first maneuver

"Okay." David said, letting Jed take the arm back in to hold protectively against his torso again. Then the good doctor really began his investigation and slipping his hands beneath Jed's shirt started to massage the muscles of Curry's shoulder.

It amazed Curry no end how it was that David's slim, sensitive fingers could always find the most painful spot to start probing in. The more David searched Curry's shoulder and back, the less tolerance Curry had for it.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"OW!"

"Sorry."

"If you're so sorry David, then stop doing it!"

"Sorry." David said again. Then he smiled and sat down beside his patient. "I know it hurts, but I need to do it to see how things are healing up in there."

"Okay, so…how is it going?"

"Good, so far." David admitted. "I'm going to have to give you some stretches and exercises to do though, and it will hurt to do them. You're also going to need someone to help you with them. Maybe Sam." David sighed. "I don't know. I'm going to have to think on this for a while."

Then the outer door to the cell block opened and Morrison came up to the bars of Curry's cell. An instant tension settled over the occupants.

"Well, looks like the prisoner has healed up quite nicely." Morrison commented.

"On the outside." David answered. "Still a lot of internal damage. I'd appreciate it if you would keep that in mind."

"Sure Doc, anything you say." Then the sheriff looked directly at Curry. "Name's Morrison, though I'm sure you've heard enough about me by now." Curry sent him a cold smile. "Had a lot of trouble convincing your partner to behave himself. Am I going to have the same problems with you?"

"Oh, no sir Sheriff." Curry answered quietly. "Heyes is the problem child. I'm as meek as a mouse."

"Uh huh." Morrison said as he turned back towards the main door. "It'd be in your best interest to remember it." And then he was gone.

"Sheesh." Curry released the breath he had been holding.

David gave Jed a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Yup. Watch yourself with him."

Later that afternoon, after David had finished with his rounds in the area, he drove his horse and surrey directly back to the jailhouse to do another check on the prisoner. Unfortunately when he entered the office, Sheriff Jacobs could only give him an apologetic smile and show him an empty cell.

"I'm sorry Doc." Jacobs told him. "Shortly after you left on your rounds Morrison came in here and took possession of his prisoner. And Curry is his prisoner so there was nothing I could legally do to stop him."

David went into the empty cell and picked up the remnants of the fresh gauze and sling that he had re-set Curry's arm with that morning.

"Yeah." Jacobs commented a little shamefacedly. "Morrison wanted him manacled pretty securely with those shackles that are attached to a belt around the waist. He couldn't really do it while Curry's arm was in a sling, so…"

"So Morrison took the sling off." David finished for him.

"Yeah."

David sighed dejectedly, then dropping the sling back onto the bunk, he turned and walked out of the jail without a word.

First thing he did was head for the saloon. He needed a drink. He was fuming. He knew that Morrison was going to pull that stunt again which is why he had taken the precautions that he had, but it was still maddening. He punched open the batwing doors and headed over to the bar, but then he slowed down to almost a standstill and his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Sam! What are you doing here?!"

Sam's head snapped up and then he sent the doc an agonized look.

"Aww, Jeez." He mumbled. "I'm sorry Doc. Morrison told me he didn't need me to escort Curry to Wyoming. I guess he heard that I was going to stay on at the Jordan's place and thought that he was doing me a favour by letting me go. So, I'm sorry Doc." And Sam pulled out the envelope with the instructions and the medications for the next doctor down the line and handed them back to the medical man.

David took the envelope without a word at first. Then his temper exploded and he slammed his fist onto the bar.

"DAMMIT!" He exclaimed. "THAT BASTARD DID IT TO ME AGAN!"

Jed was trying to relax and enjoy (?) the train ride, but his shoulder was aching and having his hands shackled in front of him the way they were just wasn't helping. The first thing he'd noticed when they had boarded the train the previous day was that Sam was not with them and that probably meant that the morphine wasn't with them either. That was bad news as far as Curry was concerned. He was becoming more and more uncomfortable and sleeping just wasn't in the cards for this trip at all.

Things had gone down pretty much the same way for Curry as they had for Heyes. He'd been shuffled quickly onto the passenger car and escorted down to the row of three empty seats at the back of the rows with Richard leading the way, then Curry with Morrison directly behind him, a hand pressed against his back, pushing him along. Then Jack bringing up the rear. Once seated Morrison had secured Curry to the seat with the leg irons and then everyone had settled in for the long ride into Wyoming.

As would be expected the other passengers were at first quite curious as to who this prisoner might be and why did he warrant such a heavy guard. The questions did not remain unanswered for long though, since, unlike with Heyes, by now the news of the capture of those two notorious outlaws had spread far and wide and it didn't take much deduction to put two and two together.

Soon, the braver of the boys in that car, and then some from the other cars who had gotten wind of the celebrity on board, began to approach the armed men in hopes of a closer look at the outlaw. Curry tried to be amiable towards them, but he was hurting and it was taking quite an effort.

"Wow! Are you really Kid Curry?"

"Who would have thought you'd be on this train!"

"Where's Heyes?"

"Is he on this train too?"

"Are you really as fast as they say?"

"Can you show us your fast draw?"

"Is it true you're going to prison for twenty years?"

"Wow, twenty years! That's a long time."

"Yeah, I'll be in my thirty's by then—that's so old!"

"Is the Devil's Hole Gang going to try and rescue you?"

"Wow that would be great!"

Curry smiled at them and gave a good effort to answer their questions, but they came rapid fire and most got drowned out by the next so he eventually gave it up. Then Morrison called it quits and sent the young boys packing, much to their groans and complaints and dirty looks towards the lawmen. Curry, who usually enjoyed talking to children was actually relieved when they were disbanded and even the quick, shy glances from a couple of the young ladies in attendance did little to alleviate his spirits.

The train had crossed the border into Wyoming shortly after noon of that day, though there was no indication from the landscape that such a transition had occurred. It was just a typical sunny summer day and the train carried on at a steady rhythmic chugging throughout the long afternoon. Curry sighed with boredom, trying to ignore the growing ache in his arm with nothing to distract him from the monotony aside from a smile from a pretty girl or an admiring glance from a young boy.

Curry sat quietly looking out the window and watching the scenery go by and gradually began to realize that he was recognizing certain landmarks that were showing up along the route. It shouldn't really be too surprising, Curry mused, that the landscape would be familiar to him, it was a well used track after all and he and Heyes would have stopped trains along here on a regular basis.

He smiled whimsically as he remembered those days, of him and his partner scouting out the territory and planning where along the route would be the best place to stop their chosen target. Those had been good times. They had been in their hay day. They'd been invincible, nothing could stop them. Heyes was brilliant, Curry was fast. They had been young and reckless and loving every minute of it.

Curry sighed, a little regretful that those days were over and gone now. Life had changed and they'd had to make certain adjustments just to keep their heads above water, so to speak. Now look at them, he mused, still making adjustments just to stay alive and keep moving forward. Although right now, moving forward meant stepping out into the abyss and hoping that somehow in the darkness they'd both land on their feet.

Then Curry came back to the present as the train started around a bend and he smiled again as he remembered this area as their favorite ambush spot. It was perfect; the bend in the tracks just long enough so the engineer couldn't see the logs blocking the tracks ahead until he was into the trap, but still with enough room to bring the train to a halt without endangering anyone. On top of that there was just the right amount of level ground to make room for the passengers to be safely disembarked and assembled while the outlaws went about their business. It was as though this spot had been designed specifically with outlawing in mind.

Then, suddenly, almost like a dejevu the train actually started slowing down, the screaming brakes against the metal wheels competing with the frantic whistles from the engine as the people in the car started looking around anxiously. The lawmen were instantly on the alert. Morrison was up in a flash and walking towards the head of the car and then disappeared out onto the landing to get a better idea of what was going on.

Curry had tensed and instantly sat up straighter, but then felt Rick's hand on his arm, cautioning him to stay settled. Jack was out of his seat, rifle at the ready and making sure that none of the passengers made a move towards the prisoner. If this was a planned attempt by the Devil's Hole Gang to rescue one of their leaders, they were going to find it a difficult task indeed.

The train was coming to a halt when Curry saw two horsemen gallop past his window and his heart skipped a beat. In an instant he had recognized Lobo and Charlie and knew that it was his old gang. But they couldn't possibly know that Curry was on this train. They had probably just planned this as a regular robbery, totally unaware of the lawmen that were on board and preparing for battle. Curry was understandably anxious; this could get dangerous really quickly especially with Morrison in charge!

Then suddenly Rick was out of the seat and Morrison had returned and was quickly unlocking Curry's ankles from the shackles. He had handed his rifle over to Richard and instructed the two deputies to take up positions at the windows and be ready for a fight. Then he pulled out his hand gun, and grabbing Curry by his left arm, hauled him to his feet and started hurrying him to the outside landing of the car.

It was all happening so fast that Curry only had a vague impression of the scared eyes watching him scrambling towards the exit. The boys who had earlier been all excited about a possible outlaw raid were now clinging to their mother's skirts, finding the reality of it far more frightening than anything they could have imagined.

Then the two men were out on the landing and Wheat and Hank were trotting their horses past on their way to the baggage car. Before Curry could grasp what was happening, or even yell a warning to his former compatriots of the danger they were in, Morrison aimed his revolver and fired. Whether Morrison was really that good a shot, or he'd just been lucky, Curry would never know but the result was that Hank's head jerked back and he fell from the saddle like a rag doll and didn't move once he hit the ground.

Curry gasped in shock! It was all surreal; he couldn't believe this was happening! As soon as the shot was fired, Morrison pushed Curry forward, in front of him and turning the revolver pressed the still warm muzzle up against the prisoner's temple. Curry heard the hammer being pulled back and felt sick. Wheat had instantly pulled his horse up and around and was aiming his hand gun in the direction that the shot had come from. Then he froze, hardly believing what his eyes were showing him.

"Kid! What the hell…?" And he trotted his horse closer to the two men standing on the car.

"Hold it right there Carlson!" Morrison yelled at him. "Now that I have your attention, you and the rest of your men better back off! Your boss here is wanted dead or alive and after all the problems I've been having I'd just as soon blow his brains out right here and now! It's up to you! Back off or he's dead—and I mean it!"

Well that got Wheat's gander up and he took aim at Morrison, trying to look like he meant it too.

"Well now, what makes you think that once you shoot Curry I won't just shoot you?" He blustered. "We were just here pulling an honest train robbery! Hell, we heard that Heyes and the Kid had been captured, but that's not new and it always turns out to be a false alarm! We didn't even know the Kid was on board and you go shootin' one of my men and makin' threats! Maybe we'll just shoot you where you stand and take Curry with us!"

The other members of the gang had gathered around now, drawn by the gunfire and they were all hooting and laughing like they thought Wheat had a great idea. Meanwhile Kyle had dismounted to check on the fallen Hank and when he looked up; his expression was none too happy.

Curry was beginning to feel like a chicken caught between a hungry coyote and the chopping block. Morrison pressed the muzzle of his gun harder against Curry's temple.

"You best tell them how it is Curry." Morrison murmured to him. "Or I swear I will kill you and Carlson will be the next one to go."

Curry swallowed, trying to moisten his very dry throat.

"Best listen to him Wheat!" Curry croaked, his voice sounding gruff even to himself. "You got no idea what you're up against here!"

Just then Kyle had remounted and approached Wheat, looking pale and a little scared.

"Wheat?"

"Not now Kyle, I'm busy!"

"But Wheat—Hank's dead."

Wheat shot a look at Kyle, who nodded solemnly and then they both glanced back to where a couple of the other boys were heaving Hank up across his horse's saddle. Wheat glared back towards Morrison, his expression livid.

Curry groaned. "Aww no, not Hank." He whispered to himself, but Morrison heard him and smiled.

"You better tell them Curry. I'm getting tired of this game."

Wheat looked like he was about to explode and Curry knew he had to stop it and stop it NOW!

"Back off Wheat!"

"He killed Hank!"

"And he's going to kill me and then you if you don't back off!" Curry yelled at him, frustrated with the man's obtuseness. "Do you really think he's alone here? You have at least three rifles aimed at your chest right now!"

Wheat sat back and obviously paled as he instantly began scanning the windows of the passenger car.

"Well…what about you Kid?" Wheat asked, suddenly anxious. "It don't feel right just riding off and leaving you here."

Curry was actually starting to get mad, why did Wheat always have to be so damned stubborn? Morrison was getting a bit of perverse pleasure out of the battle of wills between the two outlaws. Apparently even a band of thieves has problems with middle management.

"Wheat, please." Curry persisted. "Go! Just go and live to rob another train tomorrow."

"But Kid…"

"GO!"

"Alright! We're goin'!" Wheat finally agreed. "But this ain't over! What's to stop us from comin' at ya again further down the track and takin' em by surprise!?"

Curry groaned again. "Well maybe the fact that you just told the law that that's what you're gonna do! Kinda ruins the surprise don't it!" Kid pointed out in frustration.

Wheat started blustering, feeling insulted. "Fine then! We'll just leave you to it! Just tryin' to help and you get all uppity! We'll just be goin' then!"

"Fine, do it."

"We're goin'."

"GO!"

Then, with one final exasperated snarl in the Kid's direction, Wheat signaled to his men and they turned and galloped off towards the nearby woods.

However, before the small band of outlaws got more than a few yards, Morrison took sudden aim and fired at the backs of the retreating group. Wheat slumped forward, obviously wounded, but he didn't fall and the group of outlaws kept going. Curry yelled in anger and rammed into the sheriff, spoiling his aim for another shot.

Quick as a rattle snake Morrison rounded on the Kid and whacked him across the head with the side of his revolver. Curry went down in the confined space, his back against the railing, trying to raise his shackled hands to protect himself from another blow. Morrison moved to shoot him where he sat but then suddenly Rick was there knocking the Sheriff's gun off target.

"NO TOM, DON'T!"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Morrison rounded on his deputy.

"There's no reason to kill him!" Rick tried to reason with his boss. "Leave him be! He did what you asked!"

"What! Are you turning into a bleeding heart too Layton?!" Morrison sneered at him.

"No! Just I think everyone needs to calm down." Rick reasoned. "Curry's not going anywhere and I doubt that gang is going to come back now that we're on to them. Just leave him be."

"Fine." Morrison snapped back. "You baby sit him then!" And he stomped down off the landing and along with some of the other male passengers headed up towards the engine to see about getting the train moving again.

Both Rick and Jed breathed a sigh of relief.

"C'mon' Curry, on your feet." And not thinking, Rick grabbed him by his right arm and started to pull him up.

Jed gasped with pain and again felt like he was going to black out.

"Oh, sorry."

Then Rick stepped over him to his other side, took hold of his left arm this time and helped him to his feet. They headed back inside the car towards their seats with the other passengers talking excitedly around them. A number of the male passengers were still in the process of re-holstering their own side arms, having pulled them in a show of support for the lawmen. The adults at least were all getting fed up with the number of robberies that had been staged along this line. However, the youngsters, now that the danger was over were very animated in their own re-enactments of the attempted robbery/rescue, their allegiances' quickly changing from the famous outlaw to the heroic lawmen.

"WOW! Did you see that?"

"BANG! BANG! I'm going to kill me some outlaws!

"We showed them!"

"WOW! The Devil's Hole Gang!"

Rick still had hold of Curry's arm as they made their way down the aisle, but Jack came forward to try and clear the boys out of the way to get the prisoner safely back to their seats. So much for using a passenger train as a ruse. All three men were aware of how much worse this whole situation could have turned out if the outlaw band hadn't backed off. Curry was pale and looking pretty shaken up as the deputies got him seated down and secured again. Rick took a handkerchief and tried dabbing away the blood on Curry's cheek bone where the hammer of Morrison's revolver had landed its blow and split the skin. Curry flinched and drew away.

"Yeah." Rick said, giving up the effort. "You're going to have quite a shiner along there."

Curry didn't respond, just sat staring out the window as the train jarred slightly and then started moving again. Rick could see the cloud of pain settling over the Kid, a pain that had nothing what so ever to do with the man's physical condition.

"I'm sorry." Rick told him. "Morrison didn't need to kill that man. Was he a friend?"

Curry looked over at Rick as though in a daze. Finally he answered. "Yeah he was. I've known him for years. He didn't deserve that; Hank Wilkinson didn't have a mean bone in his body."

"He was an outlaw."

"You don't have to be mean spirited to be an outlaw." Curry mumbled and then looked pointedly at the empty seat in front of them where Morrison generally sat. "Just like you don't have to be an outlaw to be mean spirited."

"Hey Lom!" Heyes was off his cot in an instant and up to the bars to greet his old friend. "Sure is good to see you!" Then he noted Lom's solemn expression and his own smile dropped from his face. "What is it? Is the Kid alright?"

"Yeah, Heyes. Kid's alright." Lom assured him. "Morrison's got him settled in over in Murreyville for now. But I do have some bad news for you."

"What Lom? What is it?"

"Hank Wilkinson's dead."

The news hit Heyes like a ton of bricks. He paled and he felt like he was going to be sick.

"What?" He breathed. "Why? What happened?"

"Well, the gang stopped the train that Kid was being transported on. They were just going to rob it, they had no idea there were lawmen on board. Then they came up against Morrison."

Heyes closed his eyes, groaning. "Oh no."

"Yup." Lom continued. "According to Curry, Sheriff Morrison didn't even give them any warning. Just shot Hank right out of the saddle to 'get their attention'. Apparently Carlson was wounded as well, but the Kid doesn't know how badly."

Heyes leaned against the bars, his forehead resting on his crossed arms.

"Hank was one of the nicest fellas I've ever known."

"I know Heyes." Lom sympathized. "C'mon', let's get out of here, go for a walk."

"I don't feel like going for a walk."

"I know, but let's go anyways."

Lom unlocked the cell door and snapped the handcuffs onto Heyes' wrists. Heyes went along with his friend, thinking that maybe some fresh air would do him some good after all, and then maybe a stiff drink would help even better. He couldn't decide if he was more hurt or angry, but one thing was for sure; his hatred for Morrison was now locked in and solid. That man was going to get his own back. Heyes didn't know when where or how, but a day of reckoning was coming.

TO BE CONTINUED


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

THE TRIAL OF HANNIBAL HEYES

Heyes was not bored. If it were not for the fact that he was a thirty-four year old male, a born leader of men, highly charismatic and a very confident, self-proclaimed genius, one might say that he was weak in the knees, knot in the stomach scared to death. But since he was all of the above let us just say that he was extremely nervous.

The date of his trial had finally arrived and he was feeling a mixture of both relief and anxiety at what the future would bring to him. Lom had got him out earlier that morning for a decent breakfast, a shave and a haircut. His friend had even arranged for him to get a bath, but the butterflies in his stomach had made it hard for him to really enjoy it. His better set of clothes had been washed and pressed and Hannibal Heyes was looking like quite the clean-cut citizen rather than the down and out prisoner who had been sitting (pacing) in a jail cell for three months.

The small group of men were assembling in the front office of the jailhouse, getting prepared to go through the back door that Heyes had only been through once before. It opened onto a hallway that would lead them directly into the courthouse next door which was where Heyes had gone for his preliminary hearing. That had been three months ago, and now he was facing that same doorway again, trying to prepare himself for the real deal.

He was not in handcuffs, he was being allowed that small courtesy at least, but he felt no less a prisoner for it. Sheriff Turner stood in the lead, with Mr. Granger on Heyes' right and Lom on his left. Following up the rear was Mike with the ever present rifle. Heyes would swear that he didn't need to see the deputy to know that he was there; the man was so big that his very presence would cause the air pressure in the room to increase to the point where Heyes would feel his ears wanting to pop. Or was that just fear—stress—nerves?

Turner turned to the group. "Are we ready?" And having received an affirmative from the lawyer, he unlocked the door and the small group of men started down the corridor.

Heyes felt Lom's reassuring hand on his arm. "Deep breaths Heyes. Here we go."

"Yeah."

Though it only took a few minutes to cross the distance between the office and the courthouse, to Heyes it seemed an eternity. Finally they arrived at the second door and Turner opened it and they suddenly found themselves in the midst of a flurry of quiet voices and an anticipating atmosphere within the courtroom reserved for the trial of Hannibal Heyes.

As soon as the five men entered, a hush fell upon the room and Heyes suddenly felt like a caged mountain lion on display. He did a quick scan of the occupants, wondering if he would see anyone he recognized, but it was like trying to distinguish individual trees inside a thick forest and he soon gave up the effort. Then before he really had a chance to look, he was being ushered into the row of seats which he and his 'party' were to occupy for the duration of the trial.

Oh God he was nervous! Heyes couldn't remember the last time he actually shook from nerves and he hoped that he would be able to calm down a little once the proceedings had begun. He sent another quick scan over to the jury box, again in the hopes of seeing some familiar faces; like players from the poker game, by any chance? But no; they were all strangers to him and probably had been brought in from out of town just to avoid that very compromise from happening. Finally, after what seemed like another eternity the bailiff entered the courtroom with the inevitable "All rise! The Honourable Judge Henry Parsons presiding!" Everyone stood up while the Judge entered the court room and took his place on the bench and Heyes' heart sank just a little. It was the same Judge who had refused to grant him bail and though it was logical that there would only be the one judge for the district, Heyes had hoped for one who might be a little more sympathetic.

Everyone was encouraged to take their seats again and the trial officially began.

Initially there was just a lot of talking and paper rustling as the legal necessities of getting the trial underway were quickly dispensed with.  
Basically it was stated that this was indeed the case of; The Territory of Wyoming vs. Hannibal Heyes. That the defendant had been charged with numerous counts of armed robbery (too numerous to count), breaking and entering and fraud and that the defendant had entered a plea of not guilty due to extenuating circumstances. Everyone was anticipating an exciting trial.

The prosecuting attorney; Mr. Harold DeFord was very confident that this trial was going to be short and sweet and was not going to be wasting any time in beating around the bush. The first witness to be brought forward for the prosecution was Sheriff Tom Morrison.

"Sheriff Morrison." DeFord began once the Sheriff had been sworn in. "I understand that you were the arresting officer. Is that correct?"

"Yes, it sure is."

"And there is no doubt in your mind that the defendant is indeed the outlaw, Hannibal Heyes."

"No doubt at all. It's him."

"And why is it, do you think, that you were able to arrest and bring this man to trial when so many others before you have tried and failed in that endeavor?"

Morrison snorted derisively. "Because I know him." He answered. "I know the way his mind works, I know the tricks he tends to get up to if given half a chance. I simply didn't give him that chance."

"Did he try to escape custody?"

"Oh sure he tried. More than once, but he obviously wasn't successful."

"So, hardly the actions of a man anticipating a pardon from the Governor then."

"He knows there's no pardon coming!" Morrison insisted. "I wouldn't be surprised that Heyes and Curry started that rumour themselves just to avoid prison time."

"Thank you Sheriff Morrison." Said DeFord. "No more questions."

"Your witness, Mr. Granger." The Judge prompted.

"Thank you, Your Honour." Granger answered, and he approached the witness. "Sheriff Morrison, do you not think it unusual that Mr. Heyes has not run with the Devil's Hole Gang for five years now? And indeed, cannot be directly connected with any crimes committed during those five years?"

"No." Morrison stated bluntly. "If he hasn't been running with his old gang it's only because he and his partner had moved on to other things and they just simply got better at covering their tracks."

"So you don't think that it's more than a coincidence that the five years that Mr. Heyes claims to have been living an honest life coincide with the five years that he has not been with his old gang and has had no crimes accredited to him?"

"No." Morrison stated again. "Like I said, he'd just moved on to better pickings. He's an outlaw and five years of covering his tracks doesn't change that fact."

"Thank you. I have no more questions for Sheriff Morrison."

"You may step down, Sheriff."

Morrison left the stand and headed back to his seat, but on the way he caught Heyes' eye and sent him a subtle, but triumphant smile. Heyes bristled.

"Relax." Granger whispered to Heyes as he sat back down. "Do not let any of these people know they're getting to you. Mr. DeFord is looking for just that kind of response."

Heyes sighed and tried to relax. He knew Granger was right and he had to try and watch his own body language but under these circumstances it was proving to be harder than he had imagined.

"Your next witness, Mr. DeFord." The Judge prompted.

"I'd like to call Mr. Kenneth Roberts to the stand."

A middle aged man whom Heyes did not recognize came forward to be sworn in. Mr. Granger had been given a list of all the witnesses whom Mr. DeFord would be calling, but there were a few on at that list whom Heyes did not recognize. Mr. Roberts was one of them.

"Mr. Roberts." DeFord began. "Would you please tell the court what you do for a living?"

"Sure." Roberts answered. "I have a small ranch here in Wyoming."

"And how is business on your ranch Mr. Roberts?"

"Well, it could be better." Roberts admitted. "About seven years ago we had taken some prime stock up to Denver and sold them to one of the ranchers up that way. They were good breeding stock and we got a good price for them and we were counting on that money to upgrade our place and turn it into a real high end cattle ranch, get us some even better breeding stock and just keep on building. Well, we deposited that money in the Merchants Bank in Denver there, cause they had a brand new Pierce and Hamilton '78 and the bank manager and the local law both assured us that it was fool proof, and nobody could break into that safe."

Roberts stopped here, shaking his head with regret. Heyes felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He already knew where this was going.

"What happened, Mr. Roberts?" DeFord prompted him.

"It got broke into is what happened!" Roberts answered with a bit of heat. "Every dang red cent of our money got stole! Instead of being able to put money into our place, we ended up having to sell more stock just to keep our heads above water. Turned out to be a hard winter that year too and had a lot of stock die on us cause we had no money to buy extra feed. The banks took forever to come up with the insurance and even then it didn't cover the full amount, and by the time we got it well, the damage had been done. It's only been in the last year or two that we've finally started seeing some growth again. Yes sir, it's been a real hard struggle."

"Do you know who it was who stole your money, Mr. Roberts?" DeFord asked him.

"Sure do." Roberts answered with some heat again. "When the detectives got through piecing together how that safe got blowed they said it would have taken a genius to have done it. Someone who had a real understanding of calculating to figure out how to blow it like that without damaging the contents and that the only outlaw they knew of with the brains and the audacity to attempt it would have been Hannibal Heyes."

At this point Mr. Roberts sent an accusing glare over towards the defendant and Heyes felt like he just wanted to melt into the floor boards. He had been so proud of himself after that job. He knew nobody else would have been able to pull it off and he also knew that the law would know it too. He had taken perverse pleasure in rubbing their noses in it, not thinking or caring about the long-term effect his actions might have on regular, hard-working folk. Now it was all coming around to slap him in face.

"So how would the suggestion that Mr. Heyes has apparently been living an honest life these past five years change the way you feel about what happened?"

"Wouldn't change it at all!" Roberts insisted. "I wouldn't care if Hannibal Heyes risked his life to save a sack full of drowning puppies! What he did to me and my family was devastating! Pardon be damned—he should go to jail!"

"Thank you, Mr. Roberts." DeFord finished, then turned to Granger. "Your witness."

Granger smiled and stepped forward. Heyes groaned and ran a hand through his hair; an unfortunate nervous habit that Granger had already cautioned him about, but apparently to no avail. For a man who was so good at reading other people's body language, under this kind of stress Hannibal Heyes had no idea about his own.

"Mr. Roberts." Granger began. "We are not here today trying to decide if Mr. Heyes is or is not guilty of the crimes he has been accused of. On the contrary, he openly acknowledges that he committed these crimes. What we are trying to decide here is whether or not his own acceptance of guilt and attempt at reformation should be taken into consideration as to his sentencing."

Here Mr. Roberts snorted and sat back in his chair, not looking too impressed with attempts at reformation.

"Him deciding to go straight now don't change what he done to us."

"No one is denying that fact Mr. Roberts." Granger continued. "But isn't it more the bank itself and the insurance company to whom you should be seeking retribution? After all they are the ones who assured you that your money was safe with them."

"Well, I suppose." Roberts agreed, somewhat hesitantly. "The insurance company did pay us some back, but like I said; not all and it sure took a long time to get it."

"Indeed. My point exactly. And it was not Mr. Heyes' intention to cause you and your family hardship. In fact, it was because of the way the banks tended to treat hard working citizens like yourself that prompted Mr. Heyes into his unfortunate choice of employment. He has also since come to realize the error of his ways and is attempting to turn his life around. Do you not think that that attempt is worth at least some consideration?"

"Well…" Mr. Roberts shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose. If a man realizes he's done wrong and is trying to make it right that should be taken into account—a little."

"A little is certainly better than not at all Mr. Roberts. Thank you."

"You may step down Mr. Roberts." The judge informed him. "Mr. DeFord?"

"Yes Your Honour. I would like to call forward Mrs. Joan Baines."

A young woman came up to the stand, looking a little scared and overwhelmed by all this legal stuff but she also looked determined to have her say and her voice was clear and strong enough as she was sworn in.

Heyes was hating every minute of this, it was turning out worse than he had even imagined. He sank down a little lower in his chair again wishing he could just disappear.

"Where is he finding all these people?" He whispered over to his attorney.

"Unfortunately Mr. Heyes." Granger informed him quietly. "As soon as word of your arrest and upcoming trial got out, they found him."

Heyes glanced up at Granger and rolled his eyes then met Lom's look and that didn't help him to feel any better either.

"Mrs. Baines." DeFord acknowledged her. "Would you please tell the court where you are living and of your current circumstances?"

"Yes, of course." Mrs. Baines agreed, clearing her throat a little nervously. "I live in Wyoming, over by Murreyville actually. Things are better for me now, since I met my husband, but up until that point I was very hard pressed to make a living."

"And why was that Mrs. Baines?"

"Well, I guess it was a little over five years ago that my dear mother and myself were traveling by train to come and live with my sister who had recently been widowed. We had sold our little house in Montana and had the money from that sale in the safe in the baggage car along with some of our other valuables. We of course intended to use that money to set ourselves up here and live together. The railroad assured us that it was unusual for outlaws to stop the passenger trains, being more interested in the freights that would be carrying more plunder. We have since realized that this was not entirely true. Indeed, we were stopped by a band of thieves and forced off the train while they rummaged through the baggage car and helped themselves to all the valuables that were there!"

"Do you know who this band of thieves was?" DeFord asked her.

"Yes indeed." She answered quite self-assured. "They were quite happy to introduce themselves as The Devil's Hole Gang, lead by Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry! They took a great deal of pleasure in making sure that we all knew who we were being robbed by!"

"Awww Heyes." Lom whispered. "Couldn't you have been meek and discreet just once in your life?"

Heyes glanced over at his friend, thinking that the same question had just been occurring to him.

"What happened then Mrs. Baines?"

"We lost everything." She admitted in a small voice and her expression saddened. "Mr. Heyes had no problems at all opening up the safe and taking all our worldly possessions. It was very traumatic and my mother who, of course was not young anymore, was very upset by it. We had intended on arriving in Murreyville to help my sister get back on her feet after the tragic loss of her husband, but now it seems we would be showing up at her doorstep as paupers ourselves."

"Did the railroad insurance not cover your financial loss Mrs. Baines?"

"They did eventually, yes." She answered, but those sitting close to her could see that she had started to cry, very quietly, the tears silently running down her face which she tried to hide with her hanky. She bravely got herself under control and then continued. "Unfortunately the strain and anxiety caused by the robbery proved too much for my mother in her advanced years. She suffered a heart attack and passed away shortly after we arrived in Murreyville."

There were some gasps and sad murmurings from those in attendance and Heyes felt sickened. They had always prided themselves on not hurting anyone during their robberies, but he had come to realize, even before now that there was more than one way to cause injury to another person. He felt his throat tightening just a little then and he wondered if it were more for sympathy towards the young woman on the stand, or pity for himself? He didn't want to dig too deep on that one and taking a deep breath, he sat up straighter and forced himself to remain calm and collected. There was going to be a long way to go yet.

"Thank you Mrs. Baines." DeFord finally said to her. "I realize this must have been difficult for you. I have no more questions."

"Mr. Granger?" The Judge inquired.

Granger stood up, hesitated and then shook his head. "No questions Your Honour."

"Thank you Mrs. Baines. You may step down now."

Mrs. Baines left the stand, head held high and deliberately avoiding the dark brown eyes of the defendant.

"Mr. DeFord, your next witness please."

"I summon Mr. Winford Fletcher to take the stand."

Heyes groaned. Damn it! He hadn't been looking forward to Fletcher getting up on the stand. That man was such a weasel, he would be willing to hound Heyes to his grave just to get a dollar back on his loses. This was just getting worse and worse. Witnesses for the prosecution were coming out of the woodwork; witnesses for the defense were burrowing tunnels and disappearing. Heyes had been able to give Granger something to counter Fletcher with, but he couldn't give too much without implicating others and that was something Heyes just wasn't willing to do.

"Relax." Granger whispered.

"Mr. Fletcher." DeFord began. "Can I assume that you are familiar with Mr. Heyes?"

"I most certainly am!" Fletcher exclaimed indignantly.

"Can you point him out in this court room?"

"Certainly! That's him right there." Fletcher answered, pointing an accusing finger directly at Heyes.

"Can I inquire as to how you are acquainted with Mr. Heyes?"

"Indeed." Said Fletcher. "I am ashamed to say that I was scammed by Mr. Heyes and three of his cohorts in a fake land deal. I ended up loosing a great deal of money in that scam, and then had to pay out another small fortune to clear my name of the false charges that were laid on me as a result of that scam!"

"You said there were four people involved in this 'scam'. Do you happen to know who the other three people were?"

"I know one of them was Mr. Curry." Fletcher announced. "But unfortunately I was never able to discover the identities of the other two. One of them was a young woman and the other was an older, distinguished looking gentleman."

"Indeed. Perhaps, with a bit of persuasion we will be able to discover the identities of the other two people involved." DeFord commented with a glance over towards the defendant. Then he turned back to Fletcher. "And when did this unfortunate scam take place?"

"Three years ago."

"Three years ago." DeFord repeated pointedly. "Well within the five year span in which Mr. Heyes was supposedly living an 'honest' life." Then he turned back to Fletcher. "You seem like an intelligent man Mr. Fletcher, obviously a business man and well aware of how contracts work." Fletcher nodded. "How is it that Mr. Heyes was able to trick you into falling for their 'scam'?"

"Ohhh, he's a slick one." Fletcher answered self-righteously. "I can usually spot a scam happening a mile away but Mr. Heyes is an artist! He's got a silver tongue that just makes everything sound legit and then keeps things moving so quickly that you don't have time to evaluate what is really going on. He is a dangerous man! A thief and a swindler! All I can say is; thank goodness he has finally been brought to justice!"

"Thank you Mr. Fletcher." And DeFord nodded to the Judge as he took his seat.

"Mr. Granger, your witness."

Granger rose and approached the stand.

"Mr. Fletcher, if you were so badly misused by Mr. Heyes and his accomplices why was no charges ever laid against them?"

"I didn't know who they were until later."

"But still." Granger pressed the point. "I would have thought that an honest business man like yourself would want to come forward and inform the authorities that a crime had taken place."

"Well." Fletcher flustered. "I was embarrassed by it—that I should have been taken in so completely!"

"Certainly I can believe a certain amount of embarrassment." Granger stated. "But I find myself questioning the reasons for it. Was it for being taken in by con men? Or was it for having your own 'slightly' dishonest business practices found out? You mentioned having to quickly cover your tracks, could it be that you had been doing a little flim flaming on your own Mr. Fletcher?"

"NO!" Was Fletchers indignant reply. "I have never in my life embezzled funds from my clients! Those accusations are the ones I mentioned right up front that were falsely laid against me by Mr. Heyes and his cohorts in order to make me look bad!"

"Yes. And for which you had to pay a 'small fortune' to have swept under the carpet."

"CLEARED!" Fletcher yelled, getting all flustered. "I was cleared of those charges!"

"Yes, my mistake." Granger commented. "Cleared. No more questions Your Honour."

"Next witness, Mr. DeFord."

''The prosecution would like to call Mr. Charles Morgan to the stand."

Heyes tensed up again. He had been surprised to see Chuck's name on the list for the prosecution; He was an even bigger numbers player than Heyes was and could easily spend just as much time in prison if he was ever found out. Heyes looked around, and sure enough good old Chuck approached the stand and allowed himself to be sworn in.

Much the same age as Heyes was himself, Chuck liked to come across as more of a gentleman and suave ladies man than Heyes would ever pretend to be. He was a good conman, Heyes wouldn't deny that, but though Chuck looked the gentleman on the outside, underneath all that suaveness was an arrogant, and not so much a fool, as he was an inattentive coward. Heyes had worked with him a few times, but was never comfortable doing so because he was sure that sooner or later the man would slip up and Heyes did not want to be working a con with him when he did so.

"Alright, Mr. Morgan, if you would take the stand please." DeFord suggested after the swearing in. Then the attorney turned his attention to the jury. "Gentlemen of the jury, it should be noted that Mr. Morgan is a confessed con artist himself and has agreed to give evidence here in exchange for leniency in his own case. What he has to say should be accepted as truth based on his own experiences."

Heyes' brain was spinning. What was he going to say? What could he possibly say that would damn Heyes even more than he already was?

"So, Mr. Morgan." DeFord addressed the witness. "Could you please tell the court how it is you know the defendant and whatever information you have that relates to this case."

"Well, sure." Morgan began. "I know Heyes and the Kid from way back.I met Heyes first when we were both running with the Plummer gang. We realized we both had similar backgrounds in that we both started out working the confidence games. Although we were trained by different people, it's a small club so to speak so eventually you end up knowing most of the players. I knew that Heyes had worked a lot with a con artist by the name of Jonathan Saunders, or 'Soapy' as he was known in those circles."

Heyes' teeth literally bared in anger. "You bastard!"

This expletive caused a definite disturbance in the atmosphere of the courtroom. The Judge's gavel banged through the sudden commotion.

"Mr. Granger! Control you client or he will be held in contempt!"

"Yes Your Honour…." Granger began, but Morgan cut him off.

That unworthy gentleman had snapped his attention over to Heyes as soon as the insult had been uttered and was quick to defend himself.

"C'mon' Heyes." He reasoned. "They were going to send me to prison if I didn't agree to this! What else was I suppose to do?!"

"GO TO PRISON!" Heyes shot back as he came to his feet, preparing to rip the man's heart from his chest!

Lom and Mike instantly had a hold of the prisoner and threw him back into his chair. The Judge's gavel was literally banging out a staccato at this point while the house was abuzz with speculation.

"Control your client Mr. Granger!" The Judge was almost red with indignation. He pointed the gavel at the prisoner. "And you, Mr. Heyes—another outburst like that and you will attend the rest of this trial in shackles! Do you understand?!"

Heyes' eyes were still dark with anger, but with both the lawmen pinning him to the chair even he could see the futility of his current stance. He forced the anger down and using the well honed skills of the conman they were accusing him of being, he enveloped himself in a demeanor of civility.

"Yes Your Honour, I understand." He responded politely. "I apologize to the court and it will not happen again."

"GOOD! Mr. Morgan, if you will please continue."

Chuck was keeping a suspicious eye on Heyes. He knew a quick cover up when he saw it and he also knew that Heyes was a master at the game.

"Yes, of course." He finally answered. "Ah, where was I? Oh, yes. Soapy Saunders, I discovered by reputation was actually a kind-hearted gentleman who often took in new recruits to learn the trade. Those of whom he recognized as having special talent, he nurtured along to be top players and I know that Heyes was one of his favorites. The Kid wasn't bad either, but he didn't really have the same touch that Heyes did." Chuck smiled. "Yeah, Heyes was a real artist, that's for sure. Anyway, the last con I know of Heyes pulling was about four and a half years ago. He and Soapy were running a scam called "The Shell Game" which involved setting up a fake gambling establishment to entice a mark into betting on horse races that had already been run with the results already being known. The mark was a very lovely young woman by the name of Grace Turner and Heyes and Soapy took her for ten grand."

Heyes' jaw tightened but he controlled himself with the help of Lom and Mike still holding him down. The courtroom was again abuzz with excitement and the gavel was busy bringing everyone back into order again.

"Silence in the courtroom, or it will be cleared!"

Silence ensued.

"Thank you Your Honour." Mr. DeFord said, and then turned his attention back to his witness. "Are you certain that this incident took place less than five years ago Mr. Morgan?"

"Oh yes, definitely." Chuck assured him.

"Thank you. Where does this Mr. Saunders reside?"

"Last I heard he was living in San Francisco." Chuck informed him. "As is a Mr. O'Sullivan whom I Knew personally and who was also very instrumental in teaching us young bucks the tricks of the trade so to speak."

"Thank you Mr. Morgan." DeFord answered. "I think the law might be interested in having a word with those two 'gentlemen'."

Lom could feel Heyes trembling with anger through his shirt sleeve and he placed his other hand in a part consolatory part restraining hold on his friend's shoulder.

"Just take it easy Heyes." Lom whispered to him. "It could just be all bluff, trying to get a reaction out of you."

"Both Silky and Soapy are old men!" Heyes whispered back, barely controlling his outrage. "Neither of them would last six weeks in prison!"

"Again." DeFord continued, addressing the jury. "So much for our five year period of abstinence."

"Your witness Mr. Granger." Said the Judge as Mr. DeFord sat down and Mr. Granger rose to his feet. Then the Judge continued with an air of long-suffering indulgence. "And please keep your client under control."

"Yes Your Honour. Thank you." And Granger approached the witness. "Mr. Morgan, you seem to be quite familiar with this crime and who was involved with it."

"I was there."

"So you claim. However, as far as I am aware there was never any crime reported to the authorities. No victim has ever come forward to lay charges against Mr. Heyes, or Mr. Saunders for that matter. I would think that if this Miss Turner had been swindled out of $10,000 she would have been quick to report it."

"Not necessarily." Morgan countered. "Often the mark doesn't want to contact the law simply because they would then implicate themselves in some unlawful activity. That's one of the conditions you look for when choosing a mark, that way when they've been had they won't go to the authorities."

"So this Miss Turner was a thief herself then?"

"Well, I suppose she was to a small degree."

"A small degree?" Granger confirmed. "What exactly was her small crime Mr. Morgan? Do you know?"

"Well, according to Heyes." Morgan explained. "She had turned the Kid in to the authorities for the reward money and then turned around and helped him to escape custody. She then disappeared with the money. Heyes claimed that that put him and his partner into a difficult situation."

"Really?" Granger asked. "Why? They were already outlaws, what difference would it make to them?"

"Well, Heyes claimed that he and the Kid were trying to….ah…"

"What, Mr. Morgan?" Granger prodded him. "Trying to what?"

"Well…go straight."

"Hmmm, really? And it's interesting, don't you think?" Granger continued. "That the amount of money that this Miss Turner was 'swindled' out of just happens to be the same amount she would have received for handing Mr. Curry over to the law. Isn't that correct Mr. Morgan?"

"Well, yes I suppose it is."

"Hmmm." Granger smiled and then turned to the jury. "Tends to make you wonder, doesn't it? No more questions Your Honour."

Chuck Morgan left the stand wondering if he would still get his reprieve even if his information didn't achieve the desired results. Heyes bore holes in that man's back as he left the floor and disappeared in amongst the spectators.

"Mr. DeFord." The judge began. "Do you wish to call any more witnesses for the prosecution?"

"Yes, Your Honour. One more witness if I may." And then receiving affirmation from the Judge; "I would like to call Mr. Brian Charles to the stand."

Again, Heyes was curious about this witness, the name had not sounded familiar and he was hoping that once he saw the individual that it might ring some bells.

A clean cut man a little older than Heyes made his way forward and was sworn in.

"Do you know him?" Lom whispered over to Heyes.

Heyes shrugged and shook his head.

"Mr. Charles." DeFord began. "Would you please tell the court where you spent your childhood?"

"Well, for the first twelve years of my life I lived with my family on a farm along the Kansas/Missouri border." Mr. Charles answered, revealing a slight twang in his pronunciations. "Then in 1860 raiders attacked our farm, killing most of my family. My younger brother and I survived and we were sent to Valparaiso orphanage where I stayed until I was seventeen."

Heyes felt a chill go through him. Brian? 'Bratty' Brian? Heyes would never have recognized the bully who had learned early on to leave young Hannibal Heyes alone. There was an excited murmuring from the peanut gallery, and then with a collective recollection of the threat to empty the courtroom, everyone quieted down again.

"It has been suggested in some circles that Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry should be shown leniency for their lives of crime because of the traumas of their childhoods." Mr. DeFord pointed out. "What is your opinion of that reasoning Mr. Charles?"

"Oh, well sure it's rough loosing your family like that." Charles agreed. "And things at the orphanage were always kind of tight—never enough to eat, really. But if you behaved yourself you were treated fairly enough."

"And did you behave yourself Mr. Charles?"

"On the most part, sure."

Heyes snorted and received a nasty look from the Judge for his comment. He quickly smiled back an apology and the questioning continued.

"You certainly appear to have done well for yourself Mr. Charles." DeFord observed. "Did you ever feel inclined to follow the outlaw trail?"

"Oh no sir." Charles answered. "When I was seventeen I was set up quite well into an apprenticeship and I learned a trade. I'm married now and have a family of my own. I owe a lot to Valparaiso."

"Was that a common occurrence?" DeFord asked. "For the young men coming out of Valparaiso to be set up in an apprenticeship?"

"Of course. They wanted to see us succeed. Not end up turning to….well…" And here he sent a bit of a sheepish glance over to Heyes. "To thievery to survive."

"Indeed." DeFord agreed. "Wouldn't want that."

"No."

Heyes sighed. What a pretty picture good old Brian was painting of that institution.

"So, Mr. Charles, do you remember Mr. Heyes being at Valparaiso with you?"

"Oh sure!" Charles answered. "I had already been there a while when Han and Jed came in, but they made themselves known pretty quickly."

"Trouble makers, were they?"

"Oh well, Han was for sure. Now, Jed, he was kind of a sweet kid. Oh, but I remember one time he…"

"Please try to keep your comments relevant to Mr. Heyes if you can." Interrupted the Judge. "Mr. Curry will have his day in court."

"Oh yeah, sorry Your Honour." Charles apologized. "It's just kind of hard to talk about the one without bringing the other into it."

"Do the best you can, Mr. Charles."

"Yes Your Honour."

"So." Mr. DeFord continued. "Mr. Heyes was a trouble maker you say?"

"Well, yeah." Charles said reflectively. "He was always getting up to some sort of mischief. But he was such a charmer he'd usually end up getting away with it. Irritated the rest of us boys no end I can tell you. But we also learned pretty quickly not to tangle with him. Or with Jed for that matter."

"Really? Mr. Heyes was a scrapper was he?"

"No! Not at all. He'd just find a way to get you back." Charles explained. "Especially if some of the older boys picked on Jed when Han wasn't around. Hannibal was devious. Wouldn't matter if it took a day, a week or a month, he'd just wait for the perfect situation to present itself and then he'd set you up to take a fall. And he always managed to do it in such a way that the evidence never pointed to him."

Heyes sat in his corner with a reflective smile on his face. Yup, even back then he had been pretty good.

"Indeed." DeFord commented. "Well I can see where that would be irritating."

"Yeah." Charles agreed. "And I have to admit I wasn't too surprised when I started hearing about those two taking to the outlaw trail. It just seemed to kind of fit—you know?"

"So it didn't surprise you when Mr. Heyes ran away from Valparaiso before he could be set up in a trade?"

"Oh no." Charles answered. "I mean, I was already gone by the time they ran off but I heard about it pretty quickly. I wasn't surprised at all. Han would never have been able to settle into a trade—he was too wild, always challenging authority. He just wouldn't have had the discipline. And I wasn't surprised that Jed went with him either, those two were thick as…well, thieves."

"So in your opinion Mr. Charles, Mr. Heyes was not forced onto the outlaw trail because of his life at Valparaiso but rather, he was already inclined that way—to challenge authority."

"Yes, in my opinion, that would be the truth of it. There were other options open to him and he chose not to take them."

"Thank you Mr. Charles. No more questions."

"Mr. Granger, your witness."

Mr. Granger approached the witness.

"Mr. Charles." He began. "Do you recall any of the details surrounding the murder of your family?"

Charles shrugged. "The raiders hit our farm on a Saturday morning, killed everyone there and burned the house to the ground."

"That's all you can recall?" Granger asked. "How did you and your brother escape?"

"Oh well, we weren't actually there at the time."

"So you didn't witness your parents and other siblings being murdered then?"

"No." Charles admitted. "Joe and I left real early that morning to go fishing. The first we heard of it was when the preacher found us and then we went to stay with him and his family until we could be moved to the orphanage."

"I see." Granger commented. "So for a young child, say ten years of age, actually witnessing the brutal murder of his family, well that could be quite traumatic don't you think?"

Mr. Charles shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, yes I suppose."

"You suppose? I think it quite likely, Mr. Charles." Mr. Granger countered. "In fact, I put to you that by the time young Hannibal Heyes was delivered to Valparaiso the damage was already done. A young boy, filled with pain and anger was thrust into unfamiliar surroundings and then basically ignored unless he acted out in some way. Now I'm sure the people who ran the orphanage did the best they could under difficult conditions but I think it safe to say that there was very little time to give any of the boys' individual attention."

"That's true." Charles agreed. "But many of the children there had similar experiences as Han and Jed and the majority of them did not become criminals."

"I'm sure." Granger acknowledged. "But how many of them are leading contented lives, I wonder."

"That is all conjecture Mr. Granger." The Judge interrupted. "Please try to stick to some semblance of the facts."

"Of course Your Honour. My apologies." Granger conceded. "I guess what I'm trying to suggest Mr. Charles, is that young children experiencing such a traumatic event in their lives may react differently to it depending on the extent of the trauma and according to their own individual personalities. Some become extravert and act out while others may become introvert and shut down. Either way anger can fester and then manifest itself later in life with behaviors that the rest of us who grew up in loving families would find difficult to understand."

"What?" Mr. Charles looked confused.

Heyes was looking uncomfortable; all this talk about traumatic experiences was getting too close to things he'd rather not discuss.

"I'm sorry." Mr. Granger tried to dumb it down. "Witnessing the brutal murder of his family may have been what caused Mr. Heyes to become wild and 'challenging of authority' in the first place."

"Oh" Charles responded. "Well, like I said, other boys went through similar experiences and didn't cause any trouble."

"Right." Mr. Granger conceded with a sigh. "I have no more questions Your Honour."

"Thank you Mr. Granger." The Judge responded. "Have you anything more to add Mr. DeFord?"

"No Your Honour." DeFord answered. "I have no more witnesses at this time."

"Then I suggest we break for lunch. Court will resume at 1:00 this afternoon."

Back in his cell Heyes was pacing in anger, his bowl of stew and biscuits sitting untouched on the floor by his cot. Damn that Chuck, how could he turn on Silky and Soapy that way? Both those men had a hand in saving their lives! Even Chuck's! Took them in off the street, gave them food and lodging and hope! Treated them fairly, taught them a trade—so what if it was an illegal trade, it was a way to survive! Now Chuck had turned on them just to save his own skin! Damn him!

Lom came into the cell block and approached Heyes' cell door. He absently noted that the other prisoners in the block were staying as far away from Heyes as they possibly could. They had all suffered, or witnessed someone suffering the bite of his tongue when he was simply feeling frustrated; only someone with a death wish would approach him now. Well, Lom didn't have a death wish, but he felt that he knew the lion well enough that he wouldn't get bitten—not too badly anyways.

"You going to eat your lunch Heyes?"

"NO!"

"It's going to be a difficult afternoon; you should calm down and eat something."

"I don't want to calm down!" Heyes snapped back. "And who the hell can eat! Except for Mike, it seems he's like the Kid and can eat anytime! And speaking of Kid; why can't I see him?! We're in this together aren't we? I should be able to see my own partner! Why are you keeping us apart?!"

"Heyes, calm down!" Lom threw back at him. "You're ranting now, just angry for the sake of being angry and that's not going to help you at all, or the Kid. You know it's not me keeping you apart and there's nothing I can do about it, and believe me we've been trying! Granger's been doing everything he can to get Curry moved over here, but in the mean time while you've been complaining about only getting an hour a day out of this cell, the Kid hasn't been getting anything! The judge over there refused him bail and the lawyer appointed to him doesn't seem to give a damn, so your partner has been stuck in a cell day in and day out! Thank goodness he's handling it a whole lot better than you are!"

Heyes continued to pace, his anger was not abating and then the more pressing reason for it came out. "Damn that Chuck! Let me get my hands on him! I'll kill him!"

Now Lom's anger really flared. "Heyes, don't you dare make a threat like that in my presence!" He warned his friend. "That puts me in a very uncomfortable position! You want me to keep trying to help you and to keep after the Governor, DO NOT MAKE DEATH THREATS IN FRONT OF ME! You are no longer the smartest wolf in the pack! These lawyers are just as intelligent as you are and they know the law inside out! Start showing some respect and self-control or you are going to end up cutting your own throat in there!"

Heyes just scowled at his friend and continued to pace, his face dark as thunder. Then another man whom Lom did not recognize approached the cell, and nodding a greeting to the Sheriff he then turned his attention to the prisoner's tense back.

"Well Joshua, is this your idea of 'dealing with things'?"

Heyes spun around, preparing to chew the head off whoever would dare speak to him in such a subordinating manner and then instantly the fire went out of his eyes and his aggressive stance softened.

"Jesse. I…." Then Heyes dropped his gaze and suddenly looked embarrassed.

Lom looked over at the newcomer in total amazement. He had never known Heyes to defer to anyone so completely. Just the mere presence of this man had brought the outlaw down out of his temper tantrum and hopefully to a point where he might just start thinking a bit more clearly. Lom extended his hand to the stranger.

"Sheriff Lom Trevors."

"Oh, of course Sheriff." Jesse responded, shaking hands with the lawman. "Jesse Jordan, we've exchanged telegrams a few times."

Lom nodded acknowledgement. "Yes, Mr. Granger said you would be speaking for the defense. Good to finally meet you. It seems that Heyes has a certain amount of respect for you, perhaps you can get him to start behaving himself."

Then both men sent questioning looks over towards the subject of their discussion. Heyes sighed, suddenly feeling very foolish. Why did Jesse have such a disarming effect on him? The man was dominant without being domineering, assertive without being overbearing and he could knock Heyes down five pegs with no more than a look or a gesture.

Heyes sighed again. "Alright!" He said. "I'll try to 'behave' myself in there. I'm just not used to playing this kind of game."

"Well, you better get used to it fast." Said Granger as he approached the three men. "This afternoon isn't going to be any easier than this morning was. Actually, it's probably going to be a hell of a lot harder." Then he nodded a greeting to the two visitors. "Gentlemen, if I may have some words in private with my client?"

"Certainly."

"Of course."

The two men left the cell block and client and solicitor approached their respective side of the bars and settled into a conference.

"It's not looking good in there, is it?" Heyes asked him.

"No, it isn't." Granger agreed. "The best chance we have is for a sympathy bid, but that means putting you on the stand and I don't think that's a good idea."

"Afraid I'm going to attack the prosecuting attorney?"

Granger smiled. "Well, maybe." He admitted. "But I'd be asking you some difficult questions and for it all to work you would have to be willing to be completely honest with your answers. It won't be easy for you."

"But you think that is our best chance?"

"Yes, I do. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that you are guilty of the charges laid against you, we've never denied that. We need to convince the jury that you had good reason and you need to sound convincing."

"Hmmm." Heyes nodded, but he didn't sound too enthusiastic. He didn't want to go back to that day in Kansas, even he and the Kid never spoke about it and now he was being asked to bare his soul to a courtroom full of strangers.

"Also." Granger continued. "I put you on the stand then that will also give the prosecution the opportunity to question you and once you are under oath Mr. Heyes, you will have to answer his questions."

"Well." Said Heyes reflectively. "I don't think I have anything to hide at this point."

"Haven't you?" Granger asked him. "What about the names of your two accomplices whom Mr. Fletcher referred to?"

"Ah." Heyes commented.

"Are you prepared to give those names?"

"No."

"You will be under oath Mr. Heyes." Granger reminded him. "If the prosecution asks you for those names and you refuse you will be held in contempt."

"Well what's the worse that could happen then?" Heyes asked.

"I know this judge. If you are held in contempt of court you can forget about leniency of any kind, forget about any chance at an early parole. He'll throw the book at you. He'll drown you."

Heyes closed his eyes, groaning. "So, let me make sure I have this straight." He ventured. "If I don't take the stand myself and we just go by what the witnesses say, I will most likely do prison time, but hopefully a reduced sentence, and chance of early parole. The only way I'm likely to avoid doing any time is if I take the stand and really lay it on thick for the sympathy vote and possibly be pardoned. But if I take the stand and the prosecution asks me questions I'm not willing to answer I'll be even worse off than if I hadn't taken the stand at all. Is that it in a nutshell?"

"Yes." Granger agreed. "I believe you have the gist of it."

Silence ensued. Heyes pushed away from the bars and running his fingers through his hair tried to think what the best options would be.

"Well, Mr. Heyes." Granger asked him. "What do you want to do?"

Heyes was at a loss. He wasn't thinking clearly and he knew it. Why was his brain feeling so muddy right at a time when he needed it to be at its sharpest? Finally he conceded defeat.

"I don't know Mr. Granger." He admitted. "What do you suggest?"

"Well, I suggest we let our witnesses give their testimonies and then decide how we want to proceed." Granger suggested. "If I feel we have a good case without putting you on the stand then I won't call you. On the other hand if things are looking dicey I will ask you again at that point what you want to do. There is always the possibility that the prosecution will not ask you for those names."

"Hmmm. How likely is that?"

"Not very."

"All Rise! The Honourable Judge Henry Parsons presiding."

"Alright gentlemen, if we may proceed with the defense." The Judge brought the afternoon session to order. "I have two testimonials here that I will now read out to the court. These testimonials should be taken as truths and with as much regard as though the individuals were in this courtroom and under oath.

The first is from Mr. Patrick McCreedy, Red Rock Texas. Mr. McCreedy states; I have known Hannibal Heyes and Jedediah Curry for going on five years now and have never had any reason not to trust them. They have completed a number of jobs for me, all of which included entrusting them with large sums of money or valuable property. I have and would again stake my life on their integrity. Patrick McCreedy, Red Rock Texas. P.S. By the way, Joshua is the best poker player I have ever had the pleasure of battling with over the same $20,000 pot."

There were a number of chuckles from the gallery especially from a few of the local poker players who could appreciate the joke. Judge Parsons however, did not find it amusing. He carried on with the second testimonial.

"The second is from Judge John Hanley, retired. Junction City, New Mexico. Judge Hanley states; I became aware of Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry's quest for a pardon four and a half years ago and have supported them in their quest since that time. When I first became acquainted with Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry they had showed a willingness to risk their own safety and freedom in order to do the town of Junction City a great service. These efforts on their parts have not been forgotten and I will continue to support them any way that I can in their quest towards clemency. John Hanley, Junction City, New Mexico."

The judge returned the papers to their folder and then surveyed the attorneys and the jury members.

"Again," He said. "These testimonials are to be taken as literal truth and to be respected as though the witnesses had been on the stand and under oath.

Now, Mr. Granger will you please call your first witness?"

"Certainly Your Honour." Mr. Granger stood up. "I call for Sheriff Lom Trevors to take the stand please."

With a sigh to calm his own nerves, Lom stood and took his place on the stand.

"Sheriff Trevors, will you please tell the court and the members of the jury how it is that you know Mr. Heyes?"

"Well, as many people here know, I used to run on the wrong side of the law." Lom explained. "I first met Heyes about fifteen years ago, before he'd taken up with the Devil's Hole Gang. He and Curry weren't together at that time so Heyes and I partnered up for a while and I'd say that we got to be friends. We'd pull a number of small time heists together, then part company for a bit but we always seemed to meet up again It went on like that for a couple of years and then Heyes got back with Curry and they were in with the gang by then when it was being run by Jim Santana. I joined up with them for a while and ran a few jobs, but I was loosing my taste for the life by that time. I'd fallen into outlawin' just by chance, just trying to stay alive much like Heyes and the Kid did but I was starting to feel that it wasn't right and I decided it was time to make a clean break from that life before it was too late. To make a long story short, I turned myself in to a Sheriff that I knew and he brokered me a pardon from the then Governor of the Territory and then, much to my surprise, offered me a position as his deputy. He seemed to think that my experience would come in handy and so I began my life as an officer of the law rather than a breaker of it."

"Well, that certainly did put you in a unique position." Granger commented. "How is it that you continued to remain friends with outlaws after you took up the badge?"

"I didn't." Lom assured the court. "I broke all ties to that life. I hadn't seen Heyes or Curry for at least five years before they came to me asking for help."

"So they approached you seeking an amnesty?"

"That's right. They'd heard about the deal that Governor Hoyt was offering at that time and asked me to look into it for them."

"And did you look into it for them Sheriff?"

"Yes, I did. Unfortunately Governor Hoyt had intended the amnesty offer for small time thieves, not for men like Heyes and Curry who were running rough shod over every bank and railroad in the territory."

"So the Governor didn't give them the amnesty I take it."

"No, he didn't." Lom admitted.

"So why bother going straight?" Granger asked. "What would it get them?"

"A chance, maybe." Lom ventured. "They hoped that if they could just prove that they were capable of leading a law abiding life that the Governor might reconsider."

"And did he reconsider, or did any of the preceding Governors reconsider?"

"Apparently not." Lom admitted a tad bit sardonically.

"And yet you continue to support them in their efforts." Granger noted. "Despite the risk to yourself and to your career?"

"Yes." Lom answered. "I had been fortunate enough to have been given the opportunity to start over. I felt that if Heyes and Curry were serious about getting out of the life they were in, well, who am I to say they couldn't do it?"

"That was very generous of you Sheriff." Granger commented. "Do you still feel it was the right thing to do?"

"Yes." Lom answered. "I have no regrets along that line."

Granger smiled. "Thank you Sheriff. Your witness Mr. DeFord."

Mr. DeFord approached the witness. "Sheriff." He began with a smile. "You say that the defendant and his partner were serious about going straight and yet we're heard from two different witnesses here this morning who claim that this is not the case. That indeed Mr. Heyes and his partner continued in their previous line of work and scammed a number of people out of thousands of dollars. How do you account for that?"

"I am aware of most of these incidents." Lom admitted. "I am also aware that there is more to them than meets the eye. Many of the jobs that Mr. Heyes carried out in the past five years have been at the request of certain Government officials. So though they may appear to show Mr. Heyes sliding back into his old ways, they were indeed legally sanctioned operations that may have been of too delicate a nature to go through regular channels."

"Really?" DeFord responded skeptically. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"No, Mr. DeFord. I am not at liberty to elaborate." Lom informed him. "If you are in need of further details I suggest you subpoena the Governor."

A wave of chuckling went through the courtroom at this statement causing the Judge's gavel to be put back into service.

"Quiet in the courtroom please." Then the judge looked to the prosecuting attorney. "I strongly suggest you abandon this line of questioning Mr. DeFord. I believe you could be getting in over your head."

"Yes, Your Honour." DeFord conceded. "So, Sheriff Trevors, to the best of your knowledge Mr. Heyes has not broken any laws in the last five years, is that correct?"

"To the best of my knowledge, yes that is correct."

"Thank you Sheriff Trevors, no more questions."

"Your next witness, Mr. Granger."

"I would like to call Mr. Jesse Jordan to the stand please."

Jesse and Lom traded off and Jesse settled in to answer questions.

"Mr. Jordan." Granger began. "How long have you known the defendant?"

"About four years now."

"Four years." Granger repeated. "And you consider him to be a friend?"

"Yes, I do."

"And you trust him with your family, with your daughters?"

"Yes. Implicitly."

"Even knowing who he is, you have no concerns about having him in your home, interacting with your family?"

"That's correct."

"What makes you feel so confident that this man is so worthy of your trust?"

Jesse sighed and looked over at Heyes, gathering his thoughts.

"We originally got to know Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry under their aliases." Jesse began. "So we were not prejudiced by stories and rumours that we had heard about the outlaws. We got to know them simply as Thaddeus and Joshua and they were just two fine young men who never gave me any cause for concern in having them in my home."

"But once you were made aware of whom they were did you not have concerns about harbouring known outlaws?" Granger asked. "They were still wanted by the law."

"Yes, I know." Jesse admitted. "I suppose it was just a chance I was willing to take. I knew they were trying to turn their lives around and I felt that they had a good chance of being successful at that so I choose to support them rather than turn them in."

"Why would you consider notorious outlaws like Heyes and Curry capable of turning their lives around?"

"Just by their very natures." Jesse explained. "Neither of them is bad, or malicious in character. They just got off to a bad start and got in with the wrong people. They were aware of the mistakes they had made and were genuinely trying to make things right."

"So, in your opinion, you feel that Mr. Heyes is deserving of an amnesty. Is that correct?"

Jesse looked over at Heyes again. "Yes I do." He answered. "I believe that Joshua is repentant of his past crimes and given the opportunity would make a worthwhile citizen."

"I would ask that you refer to the defendant by his legal name Mr. Jordan." The Judge requested. "To avoid confusion, if you please."

"Of course, Your Honour. My apologies."

"No more questions, Your Honour." Granger announced, and turned the floor over to DeFord.

"Mr. Jordan." DeFord began. "You just stated that Heyes and Curry never gave you any reason to be concerned about having them in your home. Is that correct?"

"Yes. That's correct."

"Even when a legal posse surrounded your home and threatened to start shooting if you didn't turn the outlaws over to them?" DeFord asked incredulously.

"It was the legal posse that put my family in danger at that time Mr. DeFord." Jesse snapped back. "Not Joshua and Thaddeus! Indeed it was their quick thinking that prevented gunfire!"

"But was not your wife accused of assisting the two outlaws to escape legal custody Mr. Jordan?"

"Accused and acquitted Mr. DeFord!"

"Yes, with the aid of Jed Curry himself as I understand."

"Yes." Jesse conceded. "Thaddeus gave himself up in order to testify on behave of my wife. I will always be indebted to him for that."

The Judge interrupted again. "Mr. Jordan, please. Legal names if you will."

"I'm sorry Your Honour. Old habits."

"Time to break old habits, Mr. Jordan."

"Yes, you're right." Jesse agreed, looking with some regret over at his friend 'Joshua'.

"Yes." DeFord got things back on track. "I'm sure you would feel some indebtedness for that assistance, though it was hardly a sacrifice for him was it? Since he promptly broke custody and disappeared into the night. Hardly the actions of a man trying to go straight."

"No." Jesse agreed. "But certainly the actions of a man who felt some responsibility for my wife's predicament and did the only thing he could do to make things right."

Again the Judge interrupted "Might I suggest Mr. DeFord that we get back to discussing Mr. Heyes, since he is the one on trial at the moment. As I have stated before, Mr. Curry will have his day in court."

"Of course Your Honour. Back to the matter at hand. Mr. Jordan." DeFord began again. "Were you aware of Mr. Heyes' abilities as a con man? A card sharp? That he is incredibly talented at creating and maintaining a persona all with the intentions of concealing his true character and identity?"

"I am aware that Mr. Heyes is accredited with those talents." Jesse conceded. "And I am sure that in his previous lifestyle they were developed as a defense mechanism and it is probably what kept him alive. I was never aware of him playing "con games" with me."

"Well I think that would constitute a successful 'con' Mr. Jordan." DeFord explained. "In that the 'mark' in never aware that he is being conned until it's too late."

"I believe that I have known Mr. Heyes long enough by now to see him for who he is." Jesse countered. "He is indeed a flawed human being, like most of us, but he is hardly rotten to the core."

"No?" Was DeFord's skeptical response. "You are aware of his amazing prowess as a poker player. It even gets referred to in the testimonial from Mr. McCreedy. 'Best poker player I have ever had the pleasure of…' etc. etc. We all know that poker is a game of deception and bluff. To be exceptionally good at it, one must have a perfect memory as well as a sharp and devious mind. Does that not make you the least bit concerned about his integrity?"

"It seems to me that I have heard much the same said about lawyers Mr. DeFord." Jesse countered, much to the amusement of the spectators and the defendant. "Are you suggesting that you are lacking in integrity?"

"Hardly a fair comparison Mr. Jordan." DeFord responded once the courtroom had been quieted. "I chose to put my talents into upholding the law, not breaking it."

"Of course." Jesse conceded, though he didn't appear too contrite.

"So, Mr. Jordan." DeFord changed tacks. "You have heard the earlier testimonies from a number of individuals whose lives have been forever altered by the actions of Mr. Heyes and his partner. Do you not feel that the victims of these crimes are deserving of some form of justice for their grievances? After all Mr. Heyes openly admits his guilt. Why should he be allowed to walk away from the consequences of his behavior when his victims obviously cannot do the same?"

Jesse hesitated. This question from the prosecuting attorney was so similar in its content to the discussion he'd had with Thaddeus concerning them facing up to their actions that he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

"Mr. Jordan?"

"Yes. Sorry." Jesse responded. "Certainly I agree that they do need to take some responsibility for their actions but I'm sure there are other ways for them to accomplish that without doing prison time. It seems to me that many of the injustices they themselves suffered during the war and in the orphanage should be taken into consideration when judging them on their later choices and behaviors."

"Perhaps." DeFord agreed. "But as Mr. Charles has already stated concerning that line of defense, other boys suffered similar injustices and did not take to the outlaw trail. Why should Mr. Heyes be so privileged to use that as his condonement when others in similar circumstances were able to make wiser choices?"

"I suppose one would have to look at each situation in order to judge the choices made." Jesse responded. "We also need to keep in mind that Mr. Heyes wasn't much more than a child himself when faced with those life and death decisions. If given the choice of starving or stealing who here amongst us would choose the former?"

"But Mr. Heyes did choose to leave a safe haven, thereby putting himself into the position of having to steal in order to stay alive. That was hardly a responsible decision on his part."

"Again, he was little more than a child and children do not tend to make responsible decisions." Jesse countered. "They simply react to the situation they find themselves in. And I'm sure that very few of us here can know what it must have been like growing up in an orphanage—especially during those times."

Finally the Judge interrupted this battle of conjectures and pointed out an obvious fact.

"Gentlemen, I hardly see the point of discussing assumptions concerning the defendant's past when we have the defendant available to set the matter straight himself." He said. "Mr. Granger, the next move is yours. If you desire a few moments to confer with your client as to whether or not he chooses to take the stand I will grant you a fifteen minute recess."

"Thank you Your Honour." Granger responded. "I would appreciate that."

The atmosphere in the courtroom lightened to some degree as people got up to stretch and move around. There was definitely a soft buzzing of voices as everyone was discussing their point of view and speculating on how things were going to turn out.  
Jesse stepped down from the stand and approached the defendant and his supporters.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I think I may have messed that up to some degree."

"You did fine Jesse." Heyes responded with a smile. "Don't worry about it."

"Looking back on it, I think Mr. DeFord deliberately set that up in order to push you into taking the stand." Jesse continued. "I'm not sure if that was your intention or not."

"We hadn't decided yet Mr. Jordan." Granger answered him. "But it would look rather suspicious now if we declined." The latter part of this comment spoken rather pointedly towards his client.

Heyes smiled uncomfortably. His heart was thumping against his chest and his palms were sweaty. He didn't want to do this, but the way DeFord had set it up; he tended to agree with his lawyer. To back off now would look awfully suspicious.

"I guess we better do it then." Heyes finally conceded.

Nobody disagreed with him, but nobody looked happy about it either.

"Just to confirm." Granger stated. "You fully understand the consequences of refusing to answer questions once you are under oath?"

"Yes Mr. Granger." Heyes assured him. "I understand."

Three heavy sighs were the response to Heyes' acceptance.

"I better get back to my seat." Said Jesse. Then he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Good luck. Either way, I'll try to get in to see you later."

Heyes nodded his throat suddenly very dry.

"Your Honour." Granger announced. "We have come to a decision."

The Judge tapped the gavel to get everyone's attention.

"Order everyone!" He announced. "Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats. Court is back in session."

A few moments of everyone shuffling back to the

r spots and then the room quieted down very quickly, anticipation mounting.

"Mr. Granger." The Judge asked. "What is your decision?"

"My client has agreed to take the stand."

"Fine. Have him come forward to be sworn in."

Heyes couldn't take a deep breath; he felt like he couldn't breathe at all. He somehow managed to get to his feet and make his way to the stand. A bible was thrust under his nose.

"Place your right hand on the bible and raise your left hand. Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"State your full name."

"Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes"

"Please be seated, Mr. Heyes."

Heyes sat down and for the first time was able to survey his audience. It looked quite different from this perspective and also quite intimidating as every set of eyes in the room were aimed straight at him. He did a quick scan to see who all he might recognize and found himself being able to pick out a number of familiar faces in the crowd.

There was quite a fair showing of the regulars from the weekly poker game and that pleased him. Oh, and there was Betsy from the café as well. Morrison—well, he quickly passed over him. Oh, and there was Jesse, settled back into his place now and sitting beside him was—David? That was a surprise. What was the doctor doing here? And then on Jesse's other side, a woman—was that Belle? No! It was Bridget! Oh no! Why in the world did Jesse allow Bridget to come to this spectacle? She must be so disappointed in him after all the things she's heard. Heyes never felt more ashamed of himself than he did at that moment. Now the things he was going to have to dredge up from his past were going to be even harder to relate knowing that she was going to hear them. For not the first time that day, Heyes felt like he wanted to just simply disappear.

Then Mr. Granger stepped into his line of vision and all else became secondary.

"Mr. Heyes." The lawyer began. "May I ask when you were born?"

"February 24th, 1851."

''And were you born in Kansas?" Granger continued, deliberately asking non-threatening questions in order to ease his client into the harder ones that were to come.

"No. I was actually born in New York State." Heyes answered. "My parents heard about land being available in Kansas and so they and the Curry's decided to move there when I was still quite young."

"Do you remember moving to Kansas?"

"No. The only home I remember was our farm in Kansas."

"There was a lot of unrest in that area during the late '50's and early 60's. Were you aware of any of that?"

"To some degree." Heyes admitted. "Occasionally we'd pick up on whispered comments about a farm being burned out or one of the older boys in the area going off to war. I remember my father never leaving the house without his rifle, but we didn't think too much of it, to us it was normal. In many ways our parents kept us protected from what was going on and I'd say we had a pretty good childhood on the most part."

"By 'us' you mean you and your siblings?"

"Yes."

"How many siblings did you have?"

"Ahhh…" Heyes hesitated here for a moment then seemed to collect himself and carried on. "I had a brother and sister, both older than me."

"So two siblings?"

"I think that's right. Yes."

"You think?" Granger asked, surprised. "Don't you remember how many siblings you had Mr. Heyes?"

"I had two. A brother and a sister."

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes." Heyes confirmed. "My older brother left to join the war effort. I haven't seen or heard from him since."

"I see." Granger responded. Considering the devastating casualties of that war no one in the courtroom doubted what had probably happened to the older brother.

"So how old were you when the raiders attacked your farm?"

Heyes' jaw tightened. "I was ten years old."

"Did you witness the attack?" Granger asked, starting to dig a little deeper now. "Were you at home when it happened?"

"Yes." Heyes answered, almost becoming detached. "It was early morning, summer time. Pa had gone out to feed the livestock. My mother and sister were preparing breakfast. I was setting the table—I think."

"What was the first indication that anything was amiss?"

Heyes furrowed his brow, thinking back. "Ahhh, horses galloping. Coming closer. I could hear my father yelling but couldn't make out what he was saying. The dog was barking, frantic. Then gunfire, rifles. My mother and my sister grabbed other rifles and everything just went crazy. My mother pushed me behind the curtain that led to the pantry and told me to stay there."

"And did you?"

"Yes." Heyes admitted. "I was scared. I think I started crying—I think. I wanted to help, but Ma had told me to stay there, so…"

"Then what happened?"

"Just—noise, crazy. Couldn't keep track. Men yelling, gunfire. I could smell wood and hay burning. My mother and sister were firing the rifles out of the windows. I heard my mother screaming, but I don't know why. Then men broke through the door and they ahhh…"

Heyes hesitated beginning to look distressed. Silence hung in the courtroom like a blanket smothering smoke.

"Take your time Mr. Heyes."

Heyes took a deep breath and continued. "My sister got in another shot and hit one of the raiders and he went down, but then the others rushed them and got the rifles away from them. Two of them grabbed my sister and one man slapped her really hard—more than once. She went down behind the table and they went down after her. I could hear her screaming, but I don't know what they were doing to her."

Heyes swallowed. He could feel himself shaking, these old memories flooding back after all those years of trying to bury them. He was having a hard time with it, which was obvious to everyone there. Mr. Granger felt bad about pushing him, but he knew he had to.

"What happened next Mr. Heyes, when you're ready."

Heyes looked up, the terror of that day and the memories of people and events long passed haunting his dark eyes.

"My mother broke away from them and she could have run out of the house, but she didn't." Heyes recalled confusion in his voice. "Instead she turned and ran back towards the pantry. Our eyes met for an instant and she motioned for me to run and then she turned and deliberately drew the attention of the men away from me." Heyes' voice was shaking now and his knuckles were white from clutching the arms of the chair he was sitting in. "They grabbed her and hit her and I could hear her dress tearing and then I ran."

Heyes stopped talking again. Suddenly he looked like a small frightened boy, shame emanating off him in waves.

"You were only ten years old Mr. Heyes." Granger reasoned. "You couldn't have helped her."

Heyes looked over at him. His eyes were dry, but the anguish in them was heart wrenching. The only sounds breaking the heavy silence in the courtroom was the occasional quiet sob from some of the ladies present and gruff coughing from the gentlemen.

"You got out of the house?" Granger prompted.

Heyes nodded subtly. "Yes." He answered in barely more than a whisper. Then he coughed himself to try and loosen his throat muscles. "Ahhh, I ran outside and the air was filled with smoke. The barn was ablaze and the horses were running loose, in a panic. My father was lying on his back by the well; there was blood all over him. The dog was beside him and he'd been shot so many times he was hardly recognizable as a dog."

Here Heyes stopped again. He looked up, sought out and found Jesse. He was watching Heyes intently, his left arm around his daughter's shoulders. Bridget was crying softly, trying to hide it behind her handkerchief.

"Why would they do that Jesse?" Heyes asked his friend. "Spike was a good dog, why would they massacre him like that?"

A few heads turned to gaze upon the man to whom Heyes was focusing on. All Jesse could do was quietly shake his head. What other answer could he give?

"What did you do then Mr. Heyes?" Granger asked, trying to keep his client from locking up.

Heyes again turned his attention back to the lawyer.

"Ahhh, I ran." He admitted. "The Curry farm was only a couple of miles away so I just found myself heading there. I could still hear screaming from the house and more gunshots and fire crackling and more screaming. I don't know if they were shooting at me or….I just ran."

"So, you made it to the Curry's place?"

"Yes. But before I got there I saw smoke on the horizon and realized that their place had been struck before ours. Dread hit me like ice water and I ran even faster…."

"Yes, Mr. Heyes." Granger prompted him again. "What did you find when you got there?"

"Devastation." Heyes answered bluntly. "The house and the barn was burned to the ground and were just smoldering then, but there were small pockets of fire still burning around the yard. Two of the horses were shot and were partly burned, I guess the others had run off I came across parts of their dog and then parts of….Jed's younger sister."

There were groans throughout the courtroom then and Heyes' throat tightened and he coughed again and then swallowing, continued on.

"I could see what was left of Jed's pa over by the barn, but I couldn't see his Ma anywhere. Then I heard sobbing and I followed the sound around to the other side of a pile of burning wood. It was Jed. He was sitting on the ground beside his older brother whose throat had been cut. There was blood all over both of them. Jed was sobbing almost hysterically; he was rocking back and forth and clutching his mother's dress. It was the blue dress, the pretty one with the blue and white lace around the collar, though you could barely recognize it now, torn and tattered and covered in blood. Jed wasn't wearing any shoes and his hands and feet were burned and his hair looked like it was singed and he was covered in soot and ash. Ho looked up at me as I approached him and I could tell he was trying to say my name, but all that came out was more sobs. I could hear his younger sister screaming, but I couldn't see her anywhere."

"So Jed had two younger sisters?" Granger asked.

"No, just the one."

"I'm sorry Mr. Heyes. I'm confused. I thought you said that Jed's younger sister had been…well...killed?"

"Yes, she was."

"Well then how could you hear her screaming?"

"Ahhhmmm."

A tingling chill went through Jesse. Something was wrong. Beside him he felt David tense even more than he'd been already.  
Heyes sat with his mouth open, as though he totally expected to know the answer to that, but nothing was coming to mind. Suddenly his teeth chattered, just for an instant and then stopped. David started to get up but Jesse put a hand on his arm, stopping him. Anyone approaching the defendant now, especially unsummoned would surely cause guns to be drawn.

Heyes' brain was spinning. His focus went inwards, trying desperately to work this out. He knew the answer, it was obvious, but it was staying in the shadows, just out of reach. Screaming. He could hear a baby screaming, but he couldn't find her. Then suddenly he gasped audibly and his head jerked slightly as though someone had just slapped him across the face and he went white as a ghost. He gasped again.

"Oh God! Jesse!" Heyes' anguished eyes sought out his friend again and held on to him like a lifeline. "Oh God, no! I left her behind!" He could hardly breathe; his teeth chattered again and then stopped again. "My sister, my baby sister! How could I have forgotten about her? Awww Jesse! She couldn't have been much older than JJ and I left her behind in the house and they burned it down! She was burned alive and I could hear her screaming and I kept running away! How could I have left her!? She was my baby sister and I left her behind!"

Bridget was sobbing. Jesse felt sick. He wanted to close his eyes, to shut out this nightmare, but he didn't. He kept his eyes locked onto Heyes' trying by sheer will power to keep his friend focused, to keep him from falling completely apart on the stand.

"Mr. Heyes." Granger began in a tight quiet voice. "Again, you were only ten years old. There was nothing you could have done. It seems to me that your mother saw a way to save at least one of her children and did what she had to do to give you that chance. If you had disobeyed her and tried to get to the baby you only would have succeeded in being killed yourself."

Heyes broke away from Jesse and stared blankly at Granger, his sensible words meaning nothing to him.

"Mr. Granger." The Judge intervened. "It's early in the day yet, but I suggest that we adjourn until tomorrow morning and give your client a chance to compose himself."

"Yes. Thank you Your Honour."

"Court is adjourned until 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning." The gavel tapped loudly and all hell broke loose.

The room was instantly abuzz with people jumping to their feet and everyone starting to talk at once. Lom and Granger rushed forward and grabbing Heyes, they got him quickly to the side door and into the hallway leading to the jailhouse, Mike and Sheriff Turner not far behind them. Meanwhile David had also rushed forward, trying to catch up with them. He knew that Hannibal was in trouble and needed help, but he was too late. The Bailiff closed the side door just as the doctor got there and refused to let him through.

"But he's my patient; I need to get to him." David protested.

"Not this way Doctor." The Bailiff countered. "Only the defendant and officers of the law are allowed through here. You'll have to go around."

Frustrated, David turned and quickly made his way back towards the main doors of the courthouse, but there were so many people milling about and hindering his passage that it took him a few minutes to reach the outside steps. He hurried down them and headed for the jailhouse, coming up on Jesse and Bridget having a somewhat heated argument.

"But he's my friend too!" Bridget was yelling. 'I want to see him!"

"A jailhouse is no place for a young lady!" Jesse insisted. "You will wait for me over at the hotel!"

"I'm almost nineteen! I'm an adult! I can do what I want!"

"I'M YOUR FATHER! YOU'LL DO WHAT I TELL YOU!"

At which point Jesse turned his back on his daughter and headed for the jailhouse. David quickly scooted past Bridget, not wanting to get assaulted in the aftermath, as that young lady was a picture of pure frustration as she stood with clenched fists and stamped the ground with indignant anger. David made it past her without her so much as noticing him, and then, on the run he even caught up with and past Jesse in his hurry to get to the jail.

Meanwhile Heyes had been ushered back into his cell, then leaving Lom in the cell block with him, Turner and Mike returned to the front office to intercept anyone trying to get in to see the prisoner. They turned out to be David's second stumbling block.

"But I'm his doctor." David repeated the argument. "He's in trouble and I need to see him."

"He's fine." Turner insisted. "Besides, our own doctor has been seeing to him so your services aren't required."

Then, from inside the cell block came Lom's urgent voice. "Turner! Get in here with the keys to Heyes' cell! Quickly! There's something wrong with him!"

Once back inside his cell Heyes had started to pace. He was agitated, frustrated, confused—tormented. He kept running his hands through his hair, repeatedly.

"How could I have done that?" He kept saying over and over, his agitation growing. His teeth started to chatter again, Lom couldn't figure that out. It was a warm day, how could Heyes be cold?

"Heyes, try to calm down." Lom was practically begging him. "You're working yourself up into a state."

"A state?" Heyes asked his mind in turmoil. "A state of what?"

"Of nerves!" Answered Lom. "And you're not doing much for mine either."

"How could I have forgotten about that Lom?" Heyes asked his friend, real confusion in his eyes. He had started to shake. He stopped pacing and came over beside Lom and just stood there, holding onto the bars, a blank stare on his face. His teeth chattered.

"Heyes, what's wrong?" Lom asked with real concern now.

Heyes shook his head, confused. His body was trembling now and he leaned against the bars of the cell, and then slowly he sank down to the floor, his teeth chattering like it was 40 below.

"Turner!" Lom called. "Get in here with the keys to Heyes' cell! Quickly! There's something wrong with him!"

Turner came quickly into the cell block and unlocked the cell door. David had come in on the Sheriff's heels and as soon as the cell door opened, had nipped in ahead of Turner (He was getting really good at this maneuver) and grabbed the blanket off the cot.

"Sheriff, do you have any strong liquor in your office?" David asked him. "Like whiskey or brandy?"

"Well I have some brandy, but…."

"Great!" Said David as he knelt in front of Heyes and wrapped the blanket around him. "Get me two shots of it will you please."

"Well, hold on now." The Sheriff complained. "That's real good…"

"NOW Sheriff, if you please."

The two Sheriff's exchanged looks. Lom smiled. Grumbling, Turner finally gave in and made his way back out to the office to get the brandy. Jesse passed him on the way.

"David?" Heyes asked him between chatterings. "What's …..happening?...What's wrong?"

"You've gone into shock Hannibal." David answered him while briskly rubbing his shoulders, trying to get some heat generating. "We just have to get you warmed up, you'll be alright."

"Shock?"

"Yes."

"Why would….. I have….. done…. that?"

David just gave a little ironic laugh and glanced up at Lom and Jesse. He was met with two very concerned expressions. Then Turner came back with a tin cup of brandy and handed it to the doctor. Bridget had glided in on the wake of the Sheriff and then stood quietly behind her father, watching the scene.

"Here, drink this." David offered the cup to Heyes and he took it with shaking hands and managed to get the two shots down his throat.

He felt the liquor burn on its way down, then it hit his stomach and the warmth of it started to radiate out through his body. Gradually the trembling began to subside and the chattering eased off. David continued to rub his shoulders until Heyes finally gave a deep sigh and his body relaxed.

"There you go." David said. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah." Heyes answered.

"Think you can stand up?"

"Yeah." But then suddenly added. "Doc, how is my cousin?"

"Who?" David asked, confused.

"Jed."

"Oh! I'm sorry; I hadn't realized you two were related." David admitted. "He's fine. We're finally getting him moved into town. He'll be going to one of the other jails here."

"Good. Glad to hear it." Heyes mumbled and David couldn't decide if he was being sarcastic or not.

Then Heyes started to pull himself back up to his feet and seemed pretty steady once he got there, though he kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He smiled over at his two friends and then his expression turned to mild surprise and then embarrassment.

"Bridget. What are you doing in here?"

Jesse spun around. "BRIDGET! I told you to wait at the hotel!"

The look she sent her father was one of pure defiance. Heyes couldn't help but smile. The girls were definitely growing up.

"It's alright Jesse." Heyes assured him. "If she still wants to be around me after what she heard in that courtroom today, I have no problem with that."

Jesse sent him a look of parental frustration but Bridget wasted no time in taking advantage of the approval.

"Of course I still want to be around you!" She insisted as she slipped in between the men, entered the cell and gave Heyes a hug. "You'll always be my dearest friend, Joshua!"

Bridget's hug did just about as much as the brandy had done to help Heyes feel better.

Turner on the other hand, was a little anxious about this young woman not only being in the cell block, but now actually in the cell and hugging one of his most notorious prisoners! But nobody else seemed to think this worthy of concern, so he contented himself with just keeping a close eye on the situation.

The rest of the afternoon and evening went by in a bit of a blur for Heyes. He was understandably quite disturbed by the revelations of the day and continued to ask 'Why/' and 'How?' but without really listening to any answers that were presented to him. Long after the others had left to carry on with their own evening affairs, Lom stayed with his friend if for no other reason than to keep him company.

They drank coffee together and even had dinner together in the cell and talked about the old days when life had been carefree and adventurous. Lom even got Heyes laughing about some escapade they had pulled together or something that the Kid had done that had gotten everybody into trouble. But throughout it all Heyes still had a cloud over him and his hair suffered greatly with the constant attention it was receiving.

Then, as the evening shadows began to replace the autumn sun, David returned to the cell block and smiled in at the two old friends who were doing their best to help one another get through a difficult time.

"Good evening, gentlemen." David greeted them.

"Doc."

"Hi David. Have you seen Kid yet?"

David smiled again. "Yes. He's doing fine. Keeps asking about you though, about as often as you keep asking about him."

Heyes just smiled. He was glad to hear that Kid was doing alright, but knowing that didn't ease the ache of missing him.

"How are you doing Hannibal?" David asked. "Any more chills?"

"No. I think I'm alright now."

"Good. I've brought you a sleeping draught for tonight. Tomorrow's going to be another difficult day so you're going to need your rest." Then David sighed and mumbled to himself. "I seem to be handing out more sleeping aids than anything else these days." Then he perked up and handed the small pouch to Heyes through the bars. "Here, take this with some water and get some sleep. Try to stay warm. If you get the shakes again during the night have one of the deputies come and get me, okay?"

"Yeah David, I will."

"Good. Gentlemen, goodnight."

"I better be going too Heyes." Lom said as David left. "I'll see you in the morning; I'll try to bring some breakfast over with me."

"Can't we just go to the café?"

"Nope." Lom answered. "Your hour a day has been rescinded while the trial is going on. Wouldn't want you inadvertently mingling with the jury members. Would create a conflict of interest right there. Sorry."

"Oh." Heyes said, somewhat disappointed. "I guess that makes sense. Goodnight Lom."

Heyes slept quite well that night considering, but he woke up early, before dawn and his mind started to take over again. He lay on his back staring up at the barely visible ceiling allowing memories, and non-memories to take control.

How could he have done that? How could he have so totally forgotten about little Jenny, his baby sister? Again self-pity washed over him as he reflected on the life that could have been—should have been his—if not for that damn war! How could men do that? Butcher young children? Babies, literally in their cribs! How could they do that? Heyes groaned and rubbed his eyes and tried to think of something else.  
He could kill for a cup of coffee—damn! Where was Chuck when Heyes needed him? Then Heyes' thoughts turned to the Pandora's Box that that bastard had opened! What was he going to do about that? Just hope that DeFord didn't ask him about it? If he gave up those names he'd be no better than Chuck was, but if he didn't he knew it could mean the death of him. Heyes groaned again and then sat up, wrapping the blanket around him against the early morning chill. Hopefully Lom would be there soon with some coffee and breakfast. Could he eat? Hmmm, his stomach tightened to a knot at the thought of food. He supposed he should try or David would be after him for sure—that man could be such a nag sometimes! He needed a shave.

He missed his partner and resented the fact that they were still being kept apart. He looked around the cell block and felt even more irritated. There were only two other inhabitants and they (by request) were being housed in cells as far away from the outlaw as possible. Both cells on either side of Heyes were empty; there was no reason why Kid couldn't come here. But there was a reason, and he knew it. Together they were dangerous. Together they could make plans and work out their strategy and Morrison knew it. That Sheriff wasn't going to let them get together and apparently he had enough clout to make sure it didn't happen even in a town that wasn't his own. Unfortunately, being logical about it and understanding the 'why?' of it didn't help him to miss his partner any less.

C'mon' Lom! Let's get this day over with, one way or another. He sighed deeply, ran his hands through his hair and standing up, began to pace.

"All rise! The Honourable Judge Henry Parsons presiding."

"Mr. Granger, is your client able to continue?"

"Yes Your Honour."

"Good. Mr. Heyes will you please take the stand. I remind you that you are still under oath."

"Yes Your Honour. I understand."

Heyes moved to the front of the courtroom and sat down facing the assembly. It looked even more crowded than it had the previous day, if that were possible. Then Mr. Granger stood facing him.

"Mr. Heyes." He began. "If we could carry on from where we left off yesterday. You had arrived at the Curry's farm and found Jed to be the only one left alive. It that correct?"

"Yes."

"Please. Continue."

Heyes sighed deeply and then started again. "We headed towards town at that point. I had to carry Jed, piggy-back as he couldn't walk with his feet burned the way they were. He wouldn't let go of his mother's dress and he wouldn't stop crying even though I kept talking to him the whole time."

"How old was he at this time?"

"Eight."

"Eight years old?"

"Yes."

There was a wave of sympathetic murmurings going through the courtroom at this point, but then everyone quickly quieted down, already enthralled with the continuation of the events.

"How far was it into town?"

"About ten miles." Heyes answered. "But we only had to go about half way. Other neighbours had seen the smoke and had come to investigate."

"So you carried your cousin for five miles?"

"Yes." Heyes answered matter-of-factly, seeing nothing remarkable about this.

"Then what happened?"

Heyes sighed again. "Well, when our neighbours found us they had a buckboard with them so they got us into town. They tried to take Jed to the doctor, but he wouldn't let go of me and wouldn't let go of that dress. I wanted to go with him too as I didn't feel that I wanted to let him out of my sight just yet, so eventually we both went over to the Doc's. Turns out he wanted to see both of us anyway so it all worked out. Fortunately the burns Jed had suffered weren't too bad and they eventually healed up alright, but they must have been pretty painful at the time."

"Yes, I'm sure." Granger agreed. "Do you know how he received those burns?"

"No." Heyes admitted. "Kid and I never really talked about that day."

"Never?"

"That's correct."

Granger nodded. "Then what happened?"

"Well, we stayed with our neighbours for a little while and then they moved us to Valparaiso." Heyes answered, then, hearing small gasps and disapproving murmurs from the assembly, he felt the need to justify the act. "It was hard times for everyone those days. It was hard enough for families to keep themselves fed so taking in orphans would have caused quite a hardship for most people around there. We didn't expect anything different."

"And how was Valparaiso?" Granger asked. "Were you treated kindly there?"

Heyes snorted derisively. "I'm afraid I must contradict Mr. Charles here in his opinion of that institution. The only thing he said that had a ring of truth to it was that there was never enough to eat!" He commented dryly. "We learned right off what to expect from the people running the place. Nobody could get Jed to let go of that dress! Even when he fell asleep he clutched it so tightly that nobody could get it away from him. I suppose they felt so badly for him that they didn't really try very hard either. But when we got to Valparaiso the matron literally tore it away from him, calling it disgusting. Jed started to scream and he wouldn't stop. They locked him in a room by himself and wouldn't let me stay with him, told him he could come out when he decided to 'behave' himself." Heyes went quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening in anger at the memory of the abuse. "It took two days for Jed to finally give in and then it was only because he was hungry. Neither of us forgot that 'introduction' to Valparaiso. It turns out that 'hungry' was the normal condition at that place. We learned early on how to steal, that was the only way we could even come close to getting enough to eat. And Jed was already kind of small for his age so he got picked on a lot and what food was given to him often got snatched away by one of the other bigger boys. It seemed like I was always stealing food." Heyes added reflectively. "And despite Mr. Charles' opinion that I usually "charmed" my way out of trouble, unfortunately the exact opposite was generally the case. The whip and the cane were a common punishment for boys who stole food and for the five years that we were there I usually sported a fine collection of bruises. The matron even broke my wrist once."

Silence weighed heavy in the courtroom.

"Ahhh, what about apprenticeships, or trades?" Mr. Granger finally asked. "Were any of these made available to you?"

"Not really, no." Heyes answered. "There were a lot of boys left homeless in that war Mr. Granger, all of them looking for a way to survive. An opportunity would present itself occasionally and the boy who seemed best suited to it would be placed there. But that only happened for a very few of us. There were just too many boys and not enough work."

"What was it that prompted you to finally leave that place?"

Heyes smiled ruefully. "I could see the way things were going." He answered. "I hadn't made any real lasting friendships there. Jed and I kind of kept to ourselves and watched each other's backs. That place had been a really good training ground for our later endeavors, that's for sure. Anyway…why did we leave? We were starving. More boys were still coming in, so things were getting worse not better. Finally one night we'd just had enough of going to bed hungry. An opportunity presented itself and we left. Nobody came looking for us, so I don't think we were missed too much."

"Did you fare much better on your own?"

"No!" Heyes admitted. "No, at first it was really tough. Again we found ourselves having to steal just to eat and then sleeping where ever we could find shelter."

"Did you ever consider going back to Valparaiso?"

"No!" Heyes answered with a laugh. "No. As bad as it was, it was better than there!"

"So how did you survive that time?"

"I don't know." Heyes admitted quite candidly. "I look back on it now and still marvel at the fact that we did survive. For a couple of years it was tooth and nail, always living just on the edge and I don't think we would have made it a third year. But then, by happenstance we tried stealing from a master and got caught, but instead of turning us over to the law, the gentleman took us in and gave us a home and FOOD and a place to sleep. Gave us a family of sorts, again." Then Heyes smiled briefly. "And Jed, well he did a lot of catching up in the eating and growing department."

Granger nodded and smiled himself, certainly understanding that possibility. "And this man who took you in, can I assume that it is the Mr. Saunders whom Mr. Morgan has already mentioned?"

Heyes jaw tightened and he visibly bristled. "Yes."

"So I take it you feel a certain loyalty towards this man."

"Yes Mr. Granger, I think it safe to say that I do."

"Even though the trade he taught you was illegal and eventually set you up on a life's path that brought you to this court?"

"He saved our lives, Mr. Granger!" Heyes answered him with a bit of heat. "It's kind of hard to just push that aside—even though Mr. Morgan seems to have had no trouble doing it!"

Not to Heyes' surprise, the gavel banged out a warning and brought tempers down to a simmer again.

"Calm yourself Mr. Heyes." The Judge warned him. "Please keep your answers direct to the questions."

"Yes Your Honour." Heyes answered a little tight lipped. He found Chuck in amongst the crowd and glared at him until he squirmed.

"Alright, Mr. Heyes." Mr. Granger got Heyes' attention focused back onto him. "You and your partner were obviously very successful in your careers. I take it you were living a reasonably good life, especially when compared to your childhoods."

"Yes." Heyes admitted though he had the good graces to look a little ashamed of that fact.

"So what was it that made you decide to change? Try to go straight?"

"Well." Heyes pondered a moment. "It was becoming quite obvious, even to us that we were on a dead end path. We were also beginning to realize the harm that we were causing people, even if that wasn't our intention in the first place. We had just never considered it before. The way we grew up, Mr. Granger, even before our folks were killed we'd heard about raids all along the border, people being killed, homes burned to the ground. Seeing homeless people walking past our place wasn't unusual and they'd often beg for food, or steal it if they got the chance. Then in Valparaiso, stealing became second nature. We had to steal food to survive. By the time Kid and I settled in with the Devil's Hole Gang, stealing was just what we did. We never thought anything of it. But then, like I said, we started looking around and realized that things just weren't right. Our friend Lom Trevors had turned his life around and was doing okay for himself so we decided to get in touch with him and see if maybe we had a chance too."

"And that was five years ago?"

"Yes." Heyes agreed with a sigh. "Five years ago."

"And you have been working towards that goal of receiving a pardon since then?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Mr. Heyes. Your witness Mr. DeFord."

"Mr. Heyes, do you know what a sociopath is?"

Heyes bristled at the double insult. "Yes, Mr. DeFord I am well aware of the meaning of that word."

"Good." Mr. DeFord responded. "But for those of you here who have no reason to be aware of that word; in a nutshell, it refers to a person who has no social conscience. They take what they want, when they want and without remorse or consideration for the effect their actions may have on others. They are often highly intelligent, charismatic and manipulative. They see themselves as above the law, sneering down at us mere mortals who are restricted by our own moral code. Does that description sound familiar at all to you Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes was doing his utmost best to remember Mr. Granger's advice to him about not allowing Mr. DeFord to push him into a reaction.

"As I have stated." Heyes answered tightly. "I am well aware of its meaning."

Mr. DeFord nodded. "Is that the only connection to that description you can think of Mr. Heyes? Here you have by your own admittance spent most of your life, stealing from others. Indeed to the point that it became 'second nature', that you saw nothing wrong with it."

"We stole to survive." Heyes reiterated. "Once on that path it is very difficult to get off it. As I stated, we came to realize that it was wrong and have spent the past five years trying to turn that around."

"Yes. 'So you stated'." DeFord agreed with that so far. "And Sheriff Trevors, by his testimony also states that you have remained law abiding during these past five years and therefore should be considered for a pardon."

"Yes, that's right."

"And yet." DeFord continued. "If I understand previous testimonies correctly, your partner has on at least one occasion broken legal custody and according to Sheriff Morrison you tried to escape from his custody after having been legally arrested. Is that not considered 'breaking the law'?"

"Sheriff Morrison may be of the opinion that I tried to escape from his custody." Heyes explained. "But the truth of the matter is that I had decided to see this through and face trial. If I had intended to escape, I would have done so and not be here in this court today."

There came a loud "HAA!" from the assembly and Heyes could only assume that it was Morrison giving his honest opinion of that statement. This was followed by some appreciate chuckles by others in the room, until the Judge brought everyone to order again.

"Indeed?" DeFord continued when things had quieted down. "You are that confident of your abilities?"

"Yes."

"Well how good of you to decide to join us then." DeFord stated sarcastically and then continued. "It has also been stated here that you were involved in a number of scams or con games during the past five years. Now, your friend, Sheriff Trevors suggests that these acts were sanctioned by legal authority and that therefore you were not breaking any laws. Is that correct?"

Heyes tensed. This was heading into dangerous ground. He tried hard not to panic.

"My partner and I did a number of jobs for government officials, yes."

"And these officials were happy with the results of your efforts?"

"Yes, I believe they were."

"Odd then, that none of them is here to support you now."

"Yes, it is isn't it?" Heyes agreed dryly.

"So if these operations you were involved with in the last five years were legal then you should have no qualms in telling the court who else assisted you in these endeavors."

Heyes felt a tingle of fear go down his spine. There it was. Decision time. Do what you do best; bluff.

"My partner, Jed Curry."

Mr. DeFord smiled. "Yes, we're well aware of Mr. Curry's involvement. I am of course referring to the two people whom Mr. Fletcher mentioned as being part of that particular operation."

"Which two people?" Heyes asked innocently.

"The two who are not Kid Curry." Mr. DeFord emphasized. "What are their names Mr. Heyes?"

"I'm not at liberty to divulge that information."

"Why not?" DeFord pressed on. "If that was a legal operation they are in no danger of prosecution. Indeed, we should be thanking them for being so helpful."

Heyes felt the trap door snap shut. Fear took hold of his chest like a vice and he found it hard to breath. He looked over at Lom, his eyes desperately asking for forgiveness, knowing that what was going to happen next would cut that man to the quick. Lom was looking confused and anxious. Heyes and Kid had not told him anything about the scam to trap Fletcher and when it had been brought up in court by that gentleman; Lom had hoped that it had simply been one that the boys had agreed to do through other channels, like their part in helping Mr. Zulik. Now though, seeing Heyes' distress Lom was beginning to have his doubts.

"No." Heyes finally stated, through a tight throat. "I can't give you those names."

There were a number of audible groans throughout the court. Heyes wasn't sure who they were coming from. He only knew that he was lost.

"Why not, Mr. Heyes?" DeFord asked.

"Because that was not a legal operation." Heyes admitted quietly and again he looked to Lom for forgiveness but he didn't find any there. Lom was angry.

"It was not a legal operation." DeFord repeated. "You have been claiming to have been law-abiding for the past five years and yet now you openly admit to having pulled a confidence game that was outside the law. Why would you have done that Mr. Heyes, if you were hoping for an amnesty?"

Heyes was feeling sick. How could he say that Clementine had blackmailed him and the Kid into doing this for her in order to help her father? If the law found out that Clem had a picture of the two of them and had deliberately withheld it then she would be in a whole lot of trouble. Heyes wasn't about to turn her in, and he sure wasn't about to turn in James Guffy!

Silence weighed heavy in the courtroom. He had been backed into a corner; he had nowhere else to go.

"We did it to help out a friend." Heyes was willing to admit that much.

"And what is the name of this 'friend'?" Mr. DeFord continued to push.

"No."

"Mr. Granger." The Judge interrupted. "Is your client aware of the consequences of refusing to answer a question posed to him while under oath?"

Mr. Granger looked regretful. "Yes Your Honour." He admitted with a sigh. "He is aware of the consequences."

"Mr. Heyes." The Judge turned to the defendant. "I will give you one more opportunity to answer the question or you will be found in contempt. Do you understand?"

"Yes Your Honour." Heyes admitted. "I cannot answer that question."

"Then I find you in contempt of court, Mr. Heyes!" The Judge announced. "Mr. DeFord, do you have any more questions for the defendant?"

"No Your Honour, no more questions.

"Fine. Mr. Heyes, please return to your seat."

Heyes somehow managed to get to his feet and then walk back to his place. He tried to connect with Lom, but his friend refused to meet his eye. Lom was furious. As far as he was concerned Heyes had betrayed his trust and everything he had done; putting his job on the line and going out on a limb for him and the Kid had all been for naught. Maybe it was too late for the tiger to change his stripes. Maybe Heyes was simply an outlaw, through and through and there was just no changing him. The courtroom was silent.

When Heyes was returned to his cell to await the verdict from the jury, he found himself there alone. Lom had helped to escort him back and had not said a word to him the whole way down the corridor. Once in his cell Heyes had tried to get Lom to stay, to talk to him, to please let him explain. But Lom was too angry and simply turned his back on his friend and left.

The closing statements made by the two attorney's had gone by in a blur. Heyes hadn't even listened to them. What was the point? All he could do now was wait for the verdict and hope that Mr. Granger's assessment of the situation had been overly pessimistic. Maybe he still had a chance at some leniency. Maybe.

Mr. Granger came into the cell block to stand by his client at a time he knew would be very difficult for him. Heyes sent him a weak smile as the lawyer came up to the bars.

"Well, Mr. Heyes. I have to admit it does not look good."

Heyes simply nodded his agreement and began to slowly pace the cell.

"Is it truly worth your freedom to hold back that information?" Granger asked him.

"Despite what Mr. DeFord would have the jury believe, I am not a sociopath." Heyes insisted. "I will not betray a confidence or stab a friend in the….." And there he broke off and glanced towards the cell block door. He had stabbed Lom in the back, even though he had not meant to and knowing what that friend was thinking of him now made Heyes heartsick. He wanted desperately to make things right between them, but he didn't know how.

Granger nodded, knowing there was no point in pushing the matter.

"If it helps." Granger started, changing the subject. "The longer it takes for the jury to reach a verdict the better it could be. If it takes them a long time it means they are undecided and they may have to compromise. What you went through in your childhood should count for something."

"Hmmm." Was about all Heyes had to offer.

Jesse entered the block at this point and approached the two men. Mr. Granger nodded a greeting to his patron and then with another glance at his client, left the two friends to talk.

Jesse stood quietly at the bars, waiting for Heyes to make the first move. Heyes continued to pace for a few more minutes not sure if he wanted to talk, but also knowing that he didn't want to be left alone again either. Finally he approached his friend and mentor and stood silently before him, unable to meet his eyes, not knowing how things could be worse.

"Well Hannibal that was quite an eye opener in there."

Suddenly Heyes knew how it could be worse. He looked at Jesse then, with disappointment in his eyes.

"It's 'Hannibal' now is it? No longer 'Joshua'?"

"Yes." Jesse confirmed. "I think it is time to let go of old habits."

"The promise you made was to Joshua." Heyes pointed out.

"The promise I made was to YOU." Jesse countered. "I won't abandon you. I question some of the choices you've made here but I trust that you have your reasons. Whatever the verdict is, whatever happens in there, you're still family and we won't abandon you."

Heyes clutched the bars between them, his knuckles turning white with the pressure.

"Jesse." He began in a choking whisper. "I'm scared. I'm so scared. I'll die in prison."

"Only if you keep telling yourself that." Jesse answered. "You're a strong man Hannibal. All you need to do is decide that you'll make it through and you will. No matter what happens, don't give up. Will you promise me that?"

"Another promise Jesse?"

"Yes. Will you promise?"

Heyes sighed and leaned his forehead against the bars. He was no longer confident, he was no longer sure he could do it.

"Hannibal, if not for me then for the girls?"

Heyes sighed. That just wasn't playing fair. He looked up at Jesse then, meeting his eyes and nodded.

"For the girls." He agreed.

Then the cell block door opened and Mike came in with the keys to the cell.

"Jury's back." He announced.

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached your verdict?"

"We have Your Honour."

"And what say you?"

"We find the defendant Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes guilty of all charges."

Reaction swept through the assembly like a wave, a chorus of relieved jubilation competing with anguished disbelief. Even though the verdict was exactly what Heyes had braced himself for, nothing could have fully prepared him for the reality of it. He was numb and his heart was pounding so hard, he was sure it must burst from his chest. He couldn't breath.

"Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes please stand up and face the bench."

Heyes complied, feeling like he was in a nightmare.

"Mr. Heyes." The Judge began. "I must agree with the jury. Though I do not contend that you are a sociopath, perhaps the choices you have made and the life you continue to embrace would be more understandable if you were. But on the contrary, to all intent and purposes you are a very sane and intelligent young man who simply has chosen to live outside the laws of this land. You came into this trial insisting that you had led a law-abiding life for the last five years, and yet it has been shown beyond a doubt that has not been the case. You have lied to your friend and supporter and you have shown contempt for this court. Indeed, I feel that you are a very dangerous man and have no true intentions of reformation. I therefore sentence you to twenty years to life at the Wyoming Territorial Prison. Sentence to commence immediately. This court is adjourned!"

And the gavel came down.

Heyes' groan would have been audible if it hadn't been for the uproar of the assembly. Everyone started talking at once and someone, somewhere in the hubbub was crying. Mike was quick to approach Heyes and get the cuffs on him before the prisoner regained his equilibrium and attempted something desperate. Then he was dragged, unhindered through the side door and, for the last time, down the corridor and back to his cell.

He was uncuffed and left alone. The silence in the cell block was suffocating, its other occupants acutely aware of the storm brewing. The rage came upon him gradually. Beginning in the pit of his stomach and the back of his throat and then spreading until it engulfed his heart and his mind and then his very soul. He screamed his anguish to the world and not a single item in his cell was safe from his assault. No one dared approach him while he was in this mood because for the first time in his life Hannibal Heyes was out of control and murderous.  
It took two hours for the prisoner to wear himself out to the point where he was sane again. Only officers of the law were allowed near him now that he was convicted and Lom knew that of that select group only he would have any chance at all of reasoning with the man. So, he swallowed down his own anger and feelings of betrayal and entered the cell block. He realized that when all was said and done, Heyes was still his friend and he would continue to fight for him, and for the Kid.

Heyes saw Lom approach the cell and snarled at him.

"What was the point Lom?!" He yelled at his friend. "All those jobs we did for the Governor and for the Governor's friends! What was the point?! Where were they when I needed them?! Huh! Where?! Hiding in their offices behind their big wooden desks, that's where! Do you know how many times Kid and I could have just hightailed it to Mexico?! How many times we were in Mexico and came back! How many times we could have gone to Canada! We were so close to the northern borders so many times, it would have been easy! DAMMIT! EVEN CANADA WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN PRISON! I bared my soul out there and for what?! I had forgotten so much of that bloody nightmare and I had to dredge it all back up again! Have to live with it all over again! For NOTHING! You may as well put a gun to my head and shoot me! I'm going to be just as dead anyways! Damn promises! I should have just lit out for Mexico! I learned early; watch your own back! Me and the Kid! I don't owe anybody else anything! I shouldn't even be here dammit! This is what I get for developing a conscience!"

Lom stood quietly, accepting the onslaught. Heyes paced the cell furiously, hitting the bars with his fist, kicking the already overturned cot, letting his anger run wild. But at least it was just anger now and not blind murderous rage. Lom waited. Eventually Heyes began to calm down even to the point of realizing that he had bruised his hand when hitting the bars. Finally he stopped pacing, and stood facing away from Lom, hands on his hips, breathing heavily and dripping sweat. He gave a huge sigh and then turned to look at his friend. Lom looked back.

"I'm sorry." Heyes finally said. "I'm sorry I let you down."

Lom didn't respond. He was sorry Heyes had let him down too.

Heyes shook his head as though in a debate with himself.

"We had to do it." He told Lom. "I can't explain why, you'll just have to accept that we had to do it. And that Fletcher! That weasel! He's more of a scam artist than I'll ever be. He's the one who should be going to prison!"

"And the other crime?" Lom asked quietly. "The one Charles Morgan accused you of."

"We told you about that one Lom." Heyes reminded him. "We had to get that money back from Grace Turner. We returned it to the authorities Lom, you know we did."

"Yeah, I guess I do know that." Lom admitted. "Unfortunately in the eyes of the law, all the good things you've done were cancelled out by the bad things. And your refusal to give up those names just sealed your fate in the eyes of the Judge."

Heyes came back over to the bars and again leaned his forehead against them.

"Is the Judge right Lom?" He asked almost in desperation. "Am I beyond redemption? Beyond hope of a decent life?"

"No Heyes." Lom assured him having changed his mind about that himself now that he'd had a chance to calm down. "The Judge was wrong about that. He doesn't know you; he was just going by the evidence. Your friend Mr. Jordan and I have been talking with Mr. Granger. We have a plan. We're not going to give up, so don't you."

"Okay Lom." Heyes agreed. He pushed himself away from the bars, looking exhausted, burned out. "I won't give up."

Two days later Heyes again found himself shackled to that damn belt with the cuffs in front. He had really developed a healthy dislike for that contraption. The prison wagon that was to transport him to his new 'home' was outside the jailhouse, waiting for him. Mike was there with his ever present rifle while Sheriff Turner made some last minute inspections of the prisoner before they were to take him out and turn him over to the prison guards. There were a few of the younger deputies around them too, trying to look important, but feeling a little nervous all the same.

Finally all was made satisfactory and the little group of lawmen escorted the prisoner out the back door and into the lane where they expected the wagon to be waiting for them. No wagon.

"Oh for goodness sakes." Grumbled Turned in disgust. "They must be around front. Come on, we can just walk around. Better than trying to explain to everyone why we came back in."

So the small group headed around to the front of the building, drawing a few glances from the curious who were walking by, but by this time most of the townsfolk had moved on from the great Hannibal Heyes trial and were settling back into their own routine. Seeing the outlaw being escorted away was not really considered particularly noteworthy anymore.

Heyes saw the heavy prison coach with bars on the windows and locks on the door waiting patiently for them by the front of the jailhouse. They headed towards it, passing by another small group of men heading towards the front doors of that same building. Heyes couldn't help but notice Morrison in that group, he seemed to be able to sense the very presence of that man now and his anger towards him started to rise. He pushed it down however, knowing that this was hardly the time to exact revenge upon the Sheriff; that would just have to wait. Heyes' small group continued on towards the wagon and Mike was just preparing to assist Heyes up the steps and into the vehicle, when suddenly, he heard it! That voice that was more familiar to him than his own and his heart leapt to his throat.

"HEYES!

Heyes' head snapped up and he spun around, desperately searching for the source of that yell and his eyes focused on that other group of men who had just arrived at the front door of the jailhouse.

"Kid!? KID!"

To Be Continued


	9. Chapter 9

ATTITUDE

Curry was bored. Bored! Bored! Bored! BORED! Usually when he finds himself locked up in a jail cell he just lays back with his hat over his eyes and goes to sleep. Even Heyes had marveled at his ability to accomplish this feat at any time of the day or night and under just about any set of circumstances. Unfortunately, since Curry was after all, a young and healthy male, even his undeniable talent had met its match when the long summer days began to blend into weeks.

When the small posse with their prisoner had finally arrived in Murreyville it had been a great relief to get off the stifling train and away from the curious looks and playful antics of the other passengers. And that was just the adults, but even the children were starting to get annoying and Curry was really feeling the need for some solitude.

At least it was relatively cool inside the jailhouse and once the prisoner had been placed in a cell, and the shackles and belt had been removed he felt a certain amount of stress easing off his shoulders. He was still hurting, emotionally and physically and Morrison pushing him up against the bars for the routine but totally unnecessary search had sent his head to spinning and his stomach to threatening unpleasantness

"Alright Curry." Morrison said. "Hope you like your new lodgings cause this is where you're going to be for a while now. Behave yourself and we'll get along just fine."

"Yeah, sure we will." Curry mumbled his cheek bone still stinging and bruised from the last time he had tried to comply with the Sheriff's wishes.

Morrison chose to ignore the outlaw's grumblings and leaving the cell block, left him (finally) alone. With a heavy sigh of oh so many emotions, Jed sat down on the bunk and cradled his right arm with his left, wishing he could find some way to ease the aching. Finally he tucked his arm inside his shirt to give it some kind of support and then lay down on the bunk, covered his eyes with his hat and hoped to maybe get some sleep.

Forty minutes later, still awake and hurting, Curry heard the cell door opening and groaned inwardly at the prospect of yet another encounter with the Sheriff.

"C'mon' Curry, wake up." Rick's voice was a welcomed alternative. "I've brought the Doc here to see you."

Well that sounded promising! Curry removed his hat as he sat up and found himself looking at what he would have normally considered a 'typical country doctor'. Of course, after having gotten used to David and his ways a typical doctor might be a little hard to adjust to.

"This is Dr. Jones." Rick continued. "I just asked him to come over and check you out. I know you've been hurting."

"Yeah, thanks." Curry answered. "Ahhh, Morrison agreed to this?"

"Nope, probably not." Rick admitted. "Like they say; 'it's often easier to ask forgiveness than seek permission.'" Then he smiled. "So, we'll just see how the Doc can help you out for now and then take it from there."

"Howdy there, young man." Dr. Jones greeted the prisoner. "I hear you're still experiencing some pain from a bullet wound." Curry nodded. "Okay, let's see what we can do about that." And the Doctor approached Curry and began his examination.

"Your name really Jones?" Curry asked, a little skeptically.

"Sure is." He answered. "The world is full of people named Jones, haven't you noticed?"

"Well…"

"Well. I just happen to be one of them."

Curry almost laughed out loud despite the discomfort from the exam. How many times had he used that very same line of logic when defending his alias to his own group of skeptics?

Meanwhile, the Doctor did not take long in his examination of the shoulder, and Curry could not help but take note of the differences between this doctor and David Gibson. Though Dr. Jones was much older than David his probing fingers just didn't seem to have the same intuitiveness behind them. He almost felt clumsy in comparison. It was like trying to compare a country bumpkin in a shooting competition to Kid Curry in a serious showdown. You just knew who the artist was.

Still, the man did set Curry's arm into a new sling and was going to leave some morphine for him to help take the edge off and that's really the most that the Kid had been hoping for. But then, while Dr. Jones was treating the cut on his cheekbone, the Kid thought he would push it a little further and began making enquiries.

"Ah, the Doc who patched me up said that I should start doing some stretching to help loosen up the muscles. Do you know anything about that?"

"Stretching?" Jones asked, a little incredulously "What was he getting at?"

"Well, he said that it would help me to get the mobility back in the shoulder."

"He told you that?" Jones responded, and sadly shook his head. "Sounds like a fool to me, or a coward. Just said that to make you feel better I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

Jones finished treating the cut and then put a consoling hand on Jed's left shoulder.

"Son, I'm sorry." He said. "That doctor had no right to tell you that. The way your shoulder has been tore up you'll be lucky to be able to write your own name; that is if you could write in the first place. No, you just keep that arm in a sling until it heals up right and take the morphine when you need it and I'm afraid that's the best you can hope for." He gave Curry's shoulder a couple of pats and then turned to Rick with a sad smile. "It's a shame what some doctors will tell a fella just to make him feel better."

Rick sent a quick glance over to Curry to see how he was taking that bit of news and then escorted the doctor out of the cell block.

Curry sat on the bunk, staring into space; now he was really scared. The doctor he needed and had come to trust was no longer available to him and instead he was stuck in the care of an old foggy who had no idea how to help him. He found himself tempted to break out of jail just to get back to Brookswood and back to Doctor David Gibson.

Lom came to see Curry as often as he could, but with his own duties in Porterville, Heyes' trial in Cheyenne looming on the horizon and Morrison insisting on keeping the Kid in Murreyville, well it kind of stretched that worthy friend a little thin. At least Kid was able to get some news as to how his partner was fairing and that they were both on the same track concerning getting this situation dealt with. Lom didn't know the details, but from what he related of Heyes' attitude, Curry easily surmised that he had also made some kind of promise to Jesse and now they were both honour bound. Actually, more to the point; all three of them were honour bound. Heyes and the Kid were holding up their end of the deal, only time would tell if Jesse intended to do the same.

One thing Jed did ask of Lom is if he could please send a telegram to David for him.

"Who?" Lom had asked.

"David Gibson, the doctor back in Brookswood."

"Isn't the doctor here helping you?"

"More like hindering me, I'd say." Lom looked confused. Curry continued. "The doctor here is trying to help, but there's no comparison between the two men. I need David."

"Okay Kid." Lom agreed. "I'll send him a telegram. What do you want it to say?"

Curry stared off into space for a moment. "Help!" He stated.

"That's all? Just 'help'?"

"He'll know what I mean."

"Help?"

"Yes."

"That's all? Just 'help'?"

"I know what he means."

"A man of few words isn't he?"

"He can be." David admitted, smiling over at his wife. "But he gets his message across."

"Does this mean you're going to drop everything and go running to Wyoming?"

David groaned inwardly. Was this going to turn into another fight? Tricia felt the tension growing as she stood in the office, watching her husband pack up a few items into his satchel.

"It's alright David." She finally assured him. "I guess this is just part of who you are, and since I married you for who you are it would be silly of me to try and change that."

David smiled, relieved. He took his wife into his arms and held her tightly.

"Thank you." He said. "I love you, you know."

Tricia smiled. "I know."

"Why don't you go stay out at the Jordan's while I'm gone, or go to your folks place? I shouldn't be more than five days or so."

"No, I don't want to impose on them." Tricia answered. "Millie is right next door. We'll keep each other company."

"Well, alright." David accepted as he returned to packing. "If you're sure. I get concerned about you being alone here."

"I'm hardly alone!" Tricia reminded him. "It's not like I'm out on one of those ranches by myself. We're right in town here and like I said, Millie and I can keep each other company."

David nodded. She was right.

"I'll swing by the Hamilton's place on my way to the train station and let them know I'll be out of town for a few days." David commented, more to himself than to Trish since she was already well aware of the fact that the Hamilton's had handled all the medical concerns that had come up in the town before David had arrived. They were always happy to fill in for him whenever he had to go away for a while.

"Alright." She answered mechanically. "Have a safe trip."

Out at the Jordan's place Jesse was sitting at the dinning table contemplating a piece of paper he was holding in his hands. Sam had gone into town to pick up some feed and as usual had stopped at the telegraph office to check for messages. He tended to send actual letters to his mother, but sometimes just a telegram would come back. Just enough to keep in touch and let the other know all was well.

This time however, there was one there for his boss and seeing that it was from Cheyenne Wyoming, Sam figured it must be pretty important. It hadn't taken him long to finish up his errands in town and after a quick visit with Maribelle he then returned to the ranch and handed the message over to Jesse.

Belle had passed by her husband a couple of times in an effort to get JJ settled after his last meal and hadn't really been paying too much attention to Jesse until she finally had the baby quieted and down for a nap. Then coming out of the day nursery she took note of him sitting there and realized that he had been there for a while and hadn't changed his position or expression for some time.

"Is that a telegram?" She asked by way of starting the conversation.

Jesse looked up. "Hmmm? Oh yes. It's from Joshua's lawyer, Mr. Granger. He is politely 'requesting' my presence at the trial in order to give testimony for the defense."

"Oh." Belle responded, sitting down at the table with her husband. "Well, that's hardly surprising, after all Joshua is a friend." Then she noticed Jesse's concerned expression. "Do you have a problem with doing that?"

"No, no." He admitted. "I guess I just never thought that I would be. And the timing is not great. Miss Shadbolt can take over my teaching classes, so that's not a problem, but the fall auctions are happening right around the same time and we have a lot of stock that's ready to go."

"I know, but Sam has been doing a good job here." Belle pointed out, then smiled. "I think he's working extra hard now in order to make up for past deeds."

Jesse smiled too. "Yes. A little bit of a guilty consciences can work wonders." Then he became thoughtful again. "I know he has a couple of friends in town that could use work, maybe they would be willing to hire on temporarily, just for the season."

"I'm sure they would." Belle agreed. 'Now, I better get started with supper. Do you know where the girls are?"

"They went for a ride I do believe." Jesse informed her. "They're getting so attached to those two horses I don't know what we're going to do when the boys come back to get them."

Belle smiled and patted her husband's hand. "One thing at a time." She advised and then got up and headed for the kitchen.

Conversation over the supper table that evening was both animated and vociferous. The two girls had indeed been for a ride and were quite excited about their two charges.

"And Karma-Lou is just so fast!" Beth exclaimed for about the tenth time. "She's wonderful to ride! I can certainly understand why Joshua is so fond of her!"

"Well Buck may not be quite as fast, but he's very dependable and always careful where he puts his feet." Chimed in Bridget, not wanting to be out done. "He's a very kind horse, and I'm sure that in his youth he was just as fast as Karma!"

"Just keep in mind that those horses are on loan." Their father reminded them. "I fully intend to return them to Joshua and Thaddeus whenever they're ready for them."

"Yes, we know." The girls both acknowledged, calming down a little bit. They were both torn between not wanting their friends to go to prison, and also not wanting to give up some fine mounts.

"Have you heard anything, Papa?" Bridget asked.

"Yes, actually." Jesse answered. "I received a telegram this afternoon asking me to testify at Joshua's trial in September."

"Really?" Asked Bridget, brightening up. "Can I come?"

"I don't think that's wise."

"Why not?" She pleaded. "You know I'm interested in the law and what better way to see how things work than to actually go to a real trial?"

"You've been to a real trial." Her father reminded her. "Your mother's."

"That's not the same thing!" Bridget persisted. "That was so long ago I barely remember it! And I was so scared I wasn't really paying attention!"

"I just think you're too young to deal with something like this." Jesse reasoned. "This could get very intense. You may not like some of the things you'd hear about your friend."

"I'm not too young, Papa!" Bridget insisted. "You keep saying that! I'm going to be nineteen in October. I'm a grown woman!" Jesse and Belle exchanged smiles. "And whatever I hear about Joshua, he's still going to be my friend—nothing will change that!"

"Let me think about it." He finally said. "Your mother and I will discuss it and then, we'll see."

"Can I come too?" Asked Beth in a small voice.

"NO!" Came the adamant response from both parents.

As we have all come to realize at this point; Dr. David Gibson is not a stupid man. He arrived in the town of Murreyville during the late afternoon and intentionally avoided the jailhouse until he was sure that Sheriff Morrison had gone home for supper. He checked into the hotel, got an early supper for himself and then took up a strategic position along the boardwalk where he had a clear view of the front of the jail, and then waited.

Sure enough, close on to 7:00 pm David spied Rick making his way to the jail and disappearing through the front door. Ten minutes later Morrison himself exited the same building and began the twenty minute walk that would take him home. David waited until the Sheriff was well and good out of sight and then headed over to the jailhouse himself.

He entered the office to find Rick in the process of making coffee for himself and the lone prisoner. Rick looked up in surprise and then added some more water and coffee to the pot.

"What are you doing here Doc?"

"I had an urgent request from our friend in there." David explained. "It seems he hasn't much faith in the local physician."

Rick snorted. "Yeah, well that doesn't surprise me." He admitted. "I'll let you in. But if Morrison finds out about it, I'll deny all knowledge."

"Coward."

"You bet!"

"Why are you still doing guard duty anyways?" David asked, suddenly curious. "Don't you have a spread to look after?"

"Yeah." Rick admitted. "But this was part of the deal we made with Morrison; to stay on till the end. I've got good people looking after my place for me, and I have to admit, my share of the reward money on those two is going to be well worth it"

"Yes, I suppose." David was somewhat non-committal.

Rick sighed. "Now don't get all judgmental on me Doc! It was a job and not an easy one at that. Curry's not a bad sort, but it doesn't change the fact that he's an outlaw and a gunfighter and I've got no qualms about bringing him in."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." David conceded the point. "In the meantime, I feel like I'm fighting the odds just keeping the two of them on their feet. Your boss isn't helping."

Rick just smiled. Truth be known he was getting a little tired of Morrison's bullying as well and him shooting that outlaw from the train was above and beyond the call of duty. Rick wasn't going to admit as much to the Doctor, but he was definitely having doubts about working with the Sheriff again.

Then, as the coffee started to boil, Rick took down the keys and led David into the block and unlocked Curry's cell door.

"Hey David!" Curry was up off his bunk in an instant, smiling broadly. "Finally! Thanks for coming!"

"You guys want some coffee when it's done?" Rick asked as he closed the door on the Doc.

"Sure."

Then Rick left the two men together.

"What happened to your face?" David asked with some concern.

Curry's smile instantly faded. "Morrison." He said simply.

"Ah. Well, it doesn't look too bad. It should heal up alright." David observed. Then continued; "So what's so bad about the local doctor that you had to summon me from my warm hearth and warm wife?"

Curry groaned. "Oh David, the guy hasn't got a clue. I don't think he's even gone to school. I asked him about doing stretches and all that stuff you were talking about and he looked at me like I had just been taken in by the biggest crackpot west of the Mississippi! Why is it everyone thinks you're an idiot?"

David laughed. "Because I have gone to school and then some." He explained. "And if the local doctor is an old coot who's been at it for forty years then he's not going to like some young whippersnapper coming in and changing the rules on him."

Then Rick was back; "Here you go fellas—fresh coffee." He announced and handed the two cups through the bars to David.

"Thanks. Here you go Jed." Then he added as a mumbled aside. "I do seem to be spending a lot of time in jail cells lately."

Jed heard him as he took his cup. "Yeah, tell me about it."

David smiled. "Sorry." He apologized. "I know it's been a lot harder on you."

Curry just nodded in silent agreement and then the two men sat down for a companionable drink of caffeine.

"So how was your trip here?" David asked. "From the looks of your face I'd say it didn't go very smoothly."

"You can say that again." Jed answered. "You were right about that Sheriff; I don't know what's the matter with him. He's just mean for no reason. My old gang tried to hold up the train, didn't even know we were on board." Curry hesitated for a moment, sadness coming back onto him again. "He shot a friend of mine right out of the saddle, right in front of me, just to get their attention. Killed him, right there in front of me."

David sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry Jed. That does seem to be Morrison's way; subdues by intimidation." The good doctor couldn't think of anything more to say and certainly nothing that would help his friend feel better.

"He's just mean." Curry repeated. "You warned me to watch out for him, well now I'm warning you. You tend to rub him the wrong way as well and one of these days you just might rub him too hard and I wouldn't want to see anything happen to you." Then he smiled. "At least not until my shoulder's healed up!"

"Ha! Right, thank you!" David laughed. "Now you tell me after summoning me here behind his back!"

Curry smiled again. "Cheers!" He said, and tapped his coffee cup to David's

They both took one more drink and then David stood up, took Jed's cup from him and put them both on the floor out of the way.

"Okay, let's get on with the business at hand." He said and gently removed the sling that was supporting Jed's arm and started unbuttoning his shirt. "How has it been feeling on the most part?"

"Aching."

"Deep?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." David said as he started to prod and probe again. "That's to be expected."

Curry grimaced with the pain of the exam.

"Try to relax Jed." David told him. "And don't forget to breath."

"What do mean?" Curry asked him. "How could I forget to breath?"

"Well you weren't breathing just then."

"Yes I was."

"No, you weren't."

"I was!"

"Jed! Just relax."

"I am relaxed! OW! Jeez David—you always hurt me!"

"And yet you summoned me here."

"Yeah…well."

"Come on, let your arm relax. There, thank you. BREATHE JED! I know it hurts but it will release in a minute….. There. How does that feel?"

"Oh." Curry said, surprised. He moved his arm around a bit and could feel that the muscle had loosened up. "Yeah, that feels better."

"Good."

Then David showed Jed some exercises he could do on his own to help with the stretching and to increase muscle strength. They seemed straight forward enough.

"Okay. So, how much morphine are you taking?"

"Ahhh, well. Enough so's I can sleep." Jed answered a little sheepishly.

David picked up on his nervousness right away and started to push.

"Enough so you can sleep." David repeated. "How much is enough?"

"Well, Dr Jones gave me a pouch full and told me to just take it as I needed it."

"And how much is that?"

"Enough so's I can sleep."

David sighed. "Okay. Just at night then?"

"Well—sort of, sometimes—well, usually."

David looked over at him suspiciously.

"Jed, are you still taking it twice a day on a regular basis?"

"Well…."

David groaned with exasperation.

"Well it hurts David!"

"Just because they call you 'Kid' doesn't mean I'll accept childish behavior from you!"

"HEY!"

"Where is this intimidating gunfighter I've heard so much about!?" David demanded. "Fastest gun in the west! Everybody's so afraid of you and you can't even handle a little bit of pain!"

"Well why do you think I became the fastest gun in the west!?" Curry yelled back. "It kind of discourages people from HURTING ME!"

The two men glared at each other for a moment and then both started to laugh. Rick had heard the shouting and had come into the block to make sure the two men weren't at each other's throats and then just stood there watching them with a furrowed brow.

"What in the world are you two going on about?" He finally asked.

"Oh, it's alright deputy." David assured him as he began to recover his composure. "Just a minor disagreement."

"Really." Rick commented as he headed back towards the office. "Well let me know if you decide to kill each other and I'll be sure to clear out the building."

David sat back down again and both men settled into a companionable silence for a few minutes. David picked up the coffee cups and handed Jed's back to him.

"I'm sorry." David finally said, then started to chuckle again. He coughed and stifled it. It was time to be serious. "I did warn you about the dangers of being on that drug for a prolonged period of time."

"Yeah, I know." Jed admitted. "I guess it's just that old Dr Jones wasn't too encouraging with his opinion and even though I didn't really believe him, it did kind of scare me. So, the painkiller was available and it was just easy to keep on taking it."

"Yeah, alright. I can understand that." David agreed. "But now you really do have to cut back. Even if Dr Jones encourages you to take more, don't allow yourself to be persuaded. It really is important Jed. You get addicted to morphine and you'll experience a whole new level of misery trying to get off it again. Alright?"

"Yeah okay David. I know you're right."

"Good. Now where is the pouch Jones gave you?"

"Why?"

"I just want to see how much you have."

"It's not much."

"Fine. Just let me see it."

"You don't need to…"

"JED!"

"ALRIGHT! Alright." Jed conceded, and reaching under his pillow he brought out the pouch.

"Thank you." David opened the pouch and took a peek inside, then he sprinkled a little of the powder into the palm of his hand. "No more than that amount, at night only. Okay?"

"Jeez, that's not very much."

David just stared at him.

"Yeah, alright."

"Promise?"

"Yes. No more than that amount at night only."

"Right. Good." David returned the pouch to Jed and then stood up. "I'll get going now. The next train back home doesn't leave until 10:00 tomorrow evening, so I'll try to get in to see you one more time. That is if Morrison doesn't find out. If he does, I'm sure he'll find a way to block me."

"That's it then?"

"No. Once you get moved to Cheyenne hopefully I'll have more access to you and not have to be skirting around Morrison. In the mean time just do the stretching and the exercises I showed you and that should keep things from getting worse anyways. Then when you get to Cheyenne I'll see you there and we'll really get after it."

"Okay Doc. Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow evening anyways."

"Yes. I'll try. Goodnight."

"'Night."

Jesse and Belle were just getting settled into bed for the night, Jay was in his night crib already sound asleep and the household was deceptively quiet.

"So, what do you think?" Jesse asked as they sank into the pillows.

"About what?"

"You know 'about what'." Jesse answered. "Do you think Bridget is mature enough to go to Joshua's trial?"

Jesse got met with silence. He waited, giving his wife time to think about her answer. When it finally came it was an honest; "I don't know. What do you think?"

"I don't know." Jesse had to admit. "That's why I'm asking you."

Silence. Both parents lay in bed staring up at the invisible ceiling.

"Well." Belle finally broke the stalemate. "What are your concerns about her going?"

"I suppose that she'll probably be hearing some pretty brutal truths." Jesse surmised. "The girls have only seen them when they're on their best behavior. It was quite a reality check for me when I finally had to come to terms with whom and what they really are. What's that going to be like for a nineteen year old girl?"

"It might be easier." Belle answered him.

"Easier? How do you mean?"

"She's still young and flexible in her thinking." Belle explained. "She knows what they are, even before they'd met them the girls had heard all about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. They also know about the war and the affect it had on many people—they learned that much in school. But hearing about history in class, or about people through dime novels isn't the same as getting first hand accounts. It might be difficult for her to hear the truth, but at least then she would know the truth."

"So you think I'm being too protective."

"I think you're being a good father." Belle countered. "But being good parents also means knowing when to let your little girl grow up."

Silence. Belle could almost hear Jesse's wheels grinding. Heavy sigh. Silence.

"We know she has a real interest in the law." Belle continued. "She's very interested in how the system works and how she can use it to help people. This trial would be an education for her, in more ways than one. I guess the conclusion I'm coming to here is that we would end up with more regrets by not letting her go than by letting her."

"The lesser of two evils?"

"Or a blessing in disguise."

"Yeah, I suppose." Jesse kind of agreed. "And it's not like she would be there on her own. I can keep an eye on her and if things get too difficult I can pull her out." He lay silent again for a few more minutes. "Alright, we can tell her in the morning that she can come with me."

"Well if I know our girls at all—she already knows."

They sent knowing smiles to one another, kissed goodnight and then settled in to sleep.

Over in the next room, Beth and Bridget were both sitting on the floor with their ears pressed up against the wall that separated Beth's room from their parents' room.

"Can you hear anything?" Beth whispered to her sister.

"No, they've stopped talking." Bridget answered, just as quietly.

"What did they decide? Could you hear?"

"I think they said I could go."

Beth sighed dejectedly. "I wanna go too." She complained. "It's not fair; you always get to do the fun stuff."

"Well I'm older." Bridget reasoned. "You're still just a little girl."

"I am not!" Beth countered and then got up from the floor and went over to her bed in a huff. "You're not that much older than I am and a little difference doesn't make any difference at all!"

"Well look at it this way." Bridget suggested, joining her sister on the bed. "I'll smooth the way for you to go to Thaddeus' trial. If everything goes fine with me there's no reason why you can't go the next time."

"Yeah." Said Beth a little suspiciously. "But what if it doesn't go fine? What if it's really bad?"

Both girls sat quietly, contemplating that possibility

"Joshua will be alright." Bridget assured her younger sister, though suddenly she didn't sound too confident about that herself anymore. "You'll see; they'll both be back here for Christmas."

But the looks they exchanged held a tinge of worry and doubt and sleep did not come quickly for either one that night.

The mornings had begun to have a chill to them when Curry was finally informed that he would be transported to Cheyenne the next morning in order to prepare for his own up and coming trial. He knew that Heyes would be starting his any day now and Lom was busy at that end of things helping to get everything organized. Curry had been left pretty much on his own and he was feeling a little lonely and was worried for his partner. He missed him, and really felt that he should be with him at this time, but knew that Morrison would never allow that to happen. And knowing that just made him resent the Sheriff even more.

Curry could hear them up in the front office getting things in order long before the cell block door opened and then Rick and Jack came in and started going though the old routine of getting the prisoner ready for transport. Curry never would have thought that being in a cell surrounded by officers of the law and then being frisked would ever become mundane, but it just goes to show that repetition can make anything seem tedious.

"C'mon' Curry, on your feet." Was Rick's greeting to him. "We're going to have to leave this sling behind I'm afraid. If Morrison found out that we let you out of this cell without being cuffed there would be hell to pay. You don't really need it anymore do ya?"

"Well…" Curry began. "It does help."

Rick thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, okay. We'll bring it along then so you'll still have it at the other end." Rick agreed. "It's not going to be too long a train ride anyways. Anything else here you need?"

"Yeah, under the pillow." Curry told him. "The pouch with the medication that Dr. Jones gave me."

"I'll get it." Jack offered.

Then Rick was busy cinching that cursed belt around Curry's waist and shackling his hands into the cuffs.

"Alright, let's go." Rick said, and gave Curry a slight push out the door. "We've got a train to catch."

"Morrison not joining us?" Curry asked.

"He's already there." Rick told him. "Testifying at your partner's trial."

Fortunately, just as Rick had promised, this train trip proved to be not only a lot shorter, but a lot less exciting than the previous one had been. There were only a few other passengers in the car that they were riding in—and no children! So aside from a few curious glances at the man in shackles they were pretty much left in peace. They found themselves pulling into Cheyenne without incident and in time for supper but unfortunately Morrison was at the train station waiting for them and that kind of killed any appetite Curry might have had. The prisoner was shuffled off the train and straight over to a small building down a side street that apparently used to be the main jailhouse but was now only used for overflow. Or, as in this instance—solitary confinement.

Sheriff Turner was waiting for them in the front office with the ever present coffee pot simmering away on the stove. The small group of men entered the building, and much to Curry's surprise found the interior to be light and airy, and open. The three cells down to the left were not partitioned off behind a heavy door, but were just an extension of the office. Of course Curry had been in jails laid out in this manner before, but after spending the last three or so months in a more secured abode this was a refreshing improvement

"Howdy folks." Turner greeted them as he snatched up the keys from the desk top. "So, this is Mr. Curry is it?"

"Yeah, this is him." Morrison answered. "You better keep your eyes on him. He's not quite as slippery as his partner, but I hear he's been awfully quiet lately, so I wouldn't trust him."

"Hmm, I see." Turner answered him, not terribly impressed. "That true young fella? You busy making plans?"

Curry just smiled. With Morrison around he had given up all efforts to communicate and Turner just nodded as though he understood that and then led them over to the first cell. Morrison went in with the outlaw and removing the shackles, pushed Curry up against the bars and did the usual end of journey search. He finished it, finding nothing—again and then held Curry in place with the one hand between his shoulder blades. This was also becoming old.

"Don't move Curry, until you hear the cell door close." Morrison cautioned him. "Got that?"

"Yup."

Fifteen minutes later all the paperwork had been signed and stored away and the three visiting lawmen headed out to get supper and find rooms for Rick and Jack for the duration. The two remaining occupants each settled in to their respective corners. Everything quieted down for the evening, with Turner sipping coffee and reading the paper. Curry was stretched out on the cot with his hat over his eyes, but he was worried and finally, with a sigh he sat up and glanced over at the lawman.

"Sheriff?"

Turner got up and came over to the bars.

"So, you've got a voice after all." He observed. "What can I do for ya?"

"How's my partner doing?"

"Well, his trial starts tomorrow which will be kind of a relief for everybody I think." Turner answered him. "He doesn't take well to confinement does he?"

"No." Curry answered quite truthfully. "Tends to make him a little stir crazy."

"Yeah, I noticed." Turner said dryly, then; "You had any supper?"

"No." Curry answered, a little distractedly.

"You want any supper?"

"I suppose."

The rest of the evening went by rather uneventfully. A couple of the young deputies from the main jailhouse had arrived to take over the night watch and considering their previous experience with Hannibal Heyes, were a little anxious about what his partner might get up to. Their worries however were for naught. In fact, Curry put his sling back on, took the prescribed amount of morphine and then slept reasonably well through the night. Next morning, two other deputies showed up bringing breakfast so they were a welcome sight and then the day just settled into the usual routine of paperwork and dealing with minor disturbances around the town.

As the day wore on however, Curry became more and more restless. He was tempted to take more of the drug, but he knew that even from afar, David would be watching and would give him another reaming out if the pouch emptied faster than the Doctor judged that it should. Besides, he also knew that David was right and for his own good, he had to back off it. Still, it was difficult. He knew that Heyes was in court that day and felt frustrated at not being there with him. For some reason, he had always imagined them going on trial together, facing it together, probably because that is what they had always done. They'd always backed each other up, always been there for the other one. Now Curry couldn't be there for his friend and that was sitting in his stomach like a guilty knot and he took up his partner's habit of pacing the cell.

Around mid-afternoon Sheriff Turner showed up again to relieve the two deputies and settled in himself to drinking coffee and reading the daily paper. Eventually, after about an hour of this, Turner put the paper down and sent an exasperated look over towards the prisoner.

"Listen young fella." He began. "Why don't you settle down in there? You're beginning to get on my nerves."

"Sorry Sheriff." Curry answered quite honestly. "I'm just worried about my partner. Any idea how it's going?"

"Well, yeah actually." The Sheriff admitted. "I've been over there with them. The Judge ended the session early today to give your partner a chance to…" Turner hesitated, not quite sure how much detail he wanted to pass on to the prisoner.

Curry stopped pacing and looked over. "A chance to what?"

"Giving testimony has been kind of hard on Mr. Heyes." Turner explained. "I think the Judge just wanted to give him some time to collect himself and regroup."

"Why?" Curry asked, really getting worried now. "What happened?"

"I think it best you wait and talk to your lawyer or one of your friends about that." Turner suggested. "I expect they'll be over to see you after supper, tonight. They would have come by yesterday to see you but for some reason Sheriff Morrison forgot to tell them you had arrived."

Curry nodded skeptically. Yeah, Morrison 'forgot' alright.

A couple of hours later, Kid was half heartedly nibbling on some stew and biscuits when the front door to the office opened and David and a gentleman whom Curry didn't know came in. Turner got to his feet.

"Ahhh, figured you fellas would be showing up sooner or later." The Sheriff greeted them. "He's right over there."

Curry got up and went over to the bars.

"Jed, how are you doing?"

"Good David."

"Mr. Curry, I'm Steven Granger. I'm going to be your lawyer." And Granger extended a hand through the bars and the two men shook.

"Mr. Granger." Curry acknowledged him. "How are things going for my partner?"

"Well it's not over yet, but it's been rough on him."

"That's the second time I've heard that, but nobody will tell me what's going on." Curry complained.

"I'll leave your friend here to fill you in Mr. Curry." Granger answered him. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'll be back over to see you later tomorrow and we can get started. Alright?"

"Yeah, fine." Curry answered him, but looking at David a little apprehensively.

"Goodnight."

Granger left the two friends to talk, but David called over to the Sheriff first.

"Sheriff, do you think you could let me in to the cell? I'll need to exam his shoulder anyways."

"Oh, I suppose so Doc." Turner relented. "You seem to be making a habit of taking over my jail cells. Don't you have nothing better to do?"

David smiled. "Not at the moment, no."

Turner came over and unlocked the cell so that David could enter and sit down beside the prisoner.

"How's your shoulder?"

"Not bad."

"Did you back off the morphine?"

"Yeah. Just taking a little at night still. I'm trying to back off of that too."

"Good." David sighed, feeling the real topic weighing in the air and wondering where he was going to begin. Well, might as well just plunge in. "Jed, did you and Hannibal ever talk about what happened when you were kids—what happened to your folks?"

Jed tensed. He hadn't expected that and he was caught a little off guard.

"No." He finally answered.

David looked over at him. "Never?"

"No, never." Jed confirmed, then he looked away and down at his hands. "Came close once, but it was just….' And he trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"Yeah." David understood, to some degree. "Did you know that Hannibal had a younger sister? Still a baby at the time?"

"Sure." Jed answered. "Little Jenny—Jennifer. Yeah, I remember her. She died too, just like my…."

"Yes, I know." David assured him with some sympathy. "But at least you remember your sister. Hannibal had forgotten about his." David informed him.

"What do mean?" Jed asked him. "He forgot that she died?"

"No. I mean he totally forgot about her." David explained. "Forgot that he even had a younger sister. When he was asked about his siblings he said he'd only had two. Both older than himself."

Curry looked over at David incredulously. "How could that be?" He finally asked. "How could he have forgotten he had a baby sister?"

David sighed. "It's called a 'repressed memory'." He explained. "It happens sometimes when an event is so traumatic, so terrible that the mind can't deal with it, so it simply pushes it back out of conscious memory just as though the event had never happened. There have been a number of cases like that chronicled since the war."

"Really?" Jed was amazed. "Jeez, I wish that could have happened for me."

"No you don't." David assured him. "Sooner or later something will happen that triggers that memory and when that occurs, it's devastating. And that's what happened with Hannibal today while he was on the stand, relating the events of that raid. It hit him hard Jed; remembering it like that. Believe me, it's not something you would want to go through."

Silence settled over the cell both men momentarily lost in their own thoughts.

"How is he?" Jed finally asked.

"Better now." David told him.

"He's not alone is he?"

"No. Your friend Sheriff Trevors is with him."

"Oh. Good."

"Jesse and Bridget are also here."

"Bridget's here?"

"Yes! Much to everyone's surprise." David confirmed. "But that young lady did a lot to help Hannibal feel better. So, for that alone I'm glad Jesse brought her along. She definitely has her own mind!"

"Ohh hoo." Jed laughed. "David, you don't know the half of it! Like I said; she and Heyes, a lot alike!"

Then the front door to the office opened again, and Jed visibly tensed again. Morrison glanced into the cell and seeing David there gave Turner a scowl.

"What the hell is he doing in there?!" The one Sheriff demanded of the other.

"Oh lighten up." Turner answered him as he got to his feet. "They're just talking and I'm right here keeping an eye on them. Everything's fine."

Morrison did not look pleased, but seeing that Turner was not going to back down, he changed tactics.

"Me and my deputies are going to be spending the night here anyways Sheriff, so you may as well head back over to the main jailhouse, or go home. Whatever you usually do at this time."

Curry groaned under his breath. David could sympathize.

"Yup, I'll be heading over that way." Turner answered just as Rick walked in the front door. "You gentlemen have a good night. I'm sure you'll see the Doctor out."

Morrison scowled again, but settled into one of the chairs with a cup of coffee and the newspaper and prepared to put in his shift. Rick also relaxed, putting his feet up on the desk and pulling his hat over his eyes. May as well get a snooze in while he could.

No longer comfortable discussing Hannibal with Morrison there, David did a thorough exam of Jed's shoulder and seemed pleased with the result.

"You've been keeping up the exercises." The Doctor observed.

"Yeah, of course."

David smiled. "Good. Try getting through the night without the sling. Put it on again in the morning when you're up and about, but if you can sleep without it all the better." Then he sighed and put a consolatory hand on Jed's shoulder. "I hate to do this to you, but I should get over to check up on your partner before it gets too late."

"Yeah that's fine David." Jed assured him. "I'm alright. Say 'hi' to Heyes for me, okay?"

"Yes, I will. I'll see you tomorrow." Jed nodded. "Sheriff, I'd better be going."

Morrison got up to let the Doctor out of the cell and then saw him to the front door.

"You just keep showing up like a stray dog don't ya Doc?"

David just smiled. "I'll be around to see him again tomorrow, Sheriff. Hopefully his shoulder will continue to improve?"

"Time will tell." Morrison commented dryly.

Then, once David was gone Morrison headed back over to the cell and approached the prisoner. Curry had become too complacent of late and the Sheriff didn't trust that behavior with these two outlaws. Time for another attitude adjustment.

"C'mon' Curry, on your feet, up against the bars." He ordered as he entered the cell.

Jed groaned. Not another search. Then suddenly Morrison grabbed him by his shirt and hauling him to his feet, slammed him head first into the bars. Curry hit hard, grunted and nearly went down.

Rick just about fell out of his chair and then was on his feet in an instant.

"Jeez! C'mon' Tom! There's no need for that! What are you doing?!"

Morrison ignored him. He grabbed Curry again, pushed him up, face first, against the bars and with a hand between the prisoner's shoulder blades, held him there to the point where Curry found it hard to breath.

"When I tell you to move—you move." Morrison snarled in Curry's ear. "I'm not putting up with attitude from you. You got that?"

Curry didn't answer him fast enough and Morrison grabbed the back of his shirt, pulled him away from the bars and then plowed him back into them again.

"I said; you got that?"

"Yeah!"

"Good."

Then Morrison whacked the Kid's arms up over his head and proceeded to give him yet another search, and none too gently either.

"Well your shoulder seems to be doing much better Curry" The Sheriff observed sarcastically "I guess old Doc Jones knows a thing or two about healing after all doesn't he? That Gibson is a crackpot if I ever saw one!"

Curry and Rick exchanged a quick glance acknowledging their little secret, and then Morrison was done with the symbolic search, completely missing the silent communication that had just taken place around him. He found nothing on Curry's person, and of course hadn't expected to. Then pulling Curry around he gave him a hard shove into his cot and then left the cell, clanging the door closed behind him.

Curry stayed where he landed. He was shaking from anger and shock and the ice cold glare he sent after the Sheriff had made smarter men than Morrison back off. Rick was tight-lipped with anger himself and didn't mind voicing it.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Stay out of it!" Morrison shot back at him. "I know what I'm doing and I don't need you second guessing me!"

"Yeah but Tom, he wasn't doing anything." Rick persisted.

"And now he knows he better not be doing anything." Morrison countered with a smile as he settled back down with his paper and a coffee. "It's all about attitude."

Rick and Jed exchanged looks again. It was going to be a long night.

The atmosphere inside the office of the main jailhouse was electric, as though a thunder storm had blown in and smothered the whole building with a dark ominous cloud crackling with lightening. Determined not to be left out of anything, Bridget had quietly entered the office in the wake of the men, but the sounds echoing out from the cell block of her dear friend in the throes of a blind rage assaulted her heart and before she knew it she was crying again.

She had instantly made a bee line towards the heavy wooden door, insisting that she wanted to offer some comfort to Joshua, but she found herself blocked by just about every person in the room.

"But I want to see him!" Was her wailing protest.

This was met with a resounding "NO!" from a number of male voices, not the least of which was her father's.

"No, Miss, you can't go back there." Turner insisted, much to Jesse's relief. "He's not rational right now and he wouldn't hear anything you had to say anyways."

"But I could try." She said in a small voice, but already knew it wasn't going to happen.

"No one's going back there. Not even you Doc." The Sheriff stated. "I've seen men go like this before when they've been hit with a hard sentence and the best thing to do is just leave them alone until they calm down." At this point there came an exceptionally loud banging from inside the block. "There goes the cot against the bars." Then a crash! "That was the chamber pot. I hope it was empty."

"Well." Lom sighed. "There's no point in hanging around listening to this. I'll give him a couple of hours and then see if he's worn himself out enough by then to hear reason."

"Good idea." Turner agreed. "Why don't you folks head over to the saloon or…oh excuse me Miss, I mean the café or something. Let things calm down here a bit."

"Actually, I'd like to speak to you gentlemen if I may." Mr. Granger put in. "Over a cup of coffee sounds just as good a place as any."

The small group was in agreement and they all headed over to the café, Bridget arm in arm with her father. Jesse had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that Bridget was in on these events whole heartedly now. There was a determination about her that was not going to be denied and even her father was inclined to believe that maybe his little girl was growing up.

Having seated themselves at one of the larger tables in the café, they caused Betsy a minor stab of disappointment when all they ordered was coffee's all around. Unfortunately nobody was particularly hungry after the judgment had been brought down and even coffee almost seemed to be pushing the limits. Still, the coffee arrived and somehow, it seemed to just naturally become part of the discussion.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one here who feels that the sentence handed down to Mr. Heyes was extreme." Granger began, and was met with a number of emphatic nods. "Unfortunately I knew the Judge was going to do that, he doesn't take contempt of court lightly. As a lawyer I'm not suppose to take sides as such. I should be able to go into the courtroom and argue both the defense and the prosecution of any given case with equal conviction. However, in this particular case I'm finding it very hard to just walk away and leave a young man to basically die in prison when he has never killed anyone himself. I believe he is genuinely sincere in his efforts to reform—despite that unfortunate backsliding. In dealing with Mr. Heyes I was surprised to find him an honourable man who is obviously loyal to his friends and benefactors. Indeed, the fact that he was willing to accept life in prison rather than betray a confidante, in my mind, speaks admirably for him."

At this point Granger stopped speaking to allow his words to sink in and to permit anyone the opportunity to disagree with anything he had said. There was no dissension in the group. In fact, if he had been paying attention he might have noticed a young woman's eyes intent upon him and a heart warming in his favour.

"I think we are all in agreement with you Mr. Granger." Lom spoke for the group. "What did you have in mind?"

Granger smiled. "Well, apart from the usual appeal that I can put in through the courts and which will on the most part, be ignored I'm sure, I do have another idea. But it's going to take a lot of commitment and perseverance from those of you who may choose to accept the challenge."

"I'll do it!" Bridget chimed in. "And I'm sure Beth will want to help too!"

"You don't even know what it is yet." Granger reminded her.

"I don't care." She answered her eyes alight with excitement and the eagerness of finally being able to do something. "Whatever it is, we both want to help!" And she sent the young lawyer a huge smile full of brightness and hope.

Mr. Granger felt his heart do a couple of somersaults and he smiled back at her. Lom and David had been contemplating the lawyer's words and hadn't noticed the electrical exchange pass between them. Jesse however, did notice.

"Ahhh, yes…well." Suddenly the lawyer found himself momentarily at a loss for words. "Ummm—actually Sheriff Trevors!" He was relieved to get his mind focused again. "Your comment to Mr. DeFord is what got me thinking about this."

"Oh yes?" Lom answered. "Which comment was that?"

"Your suggestion that he subpoena the Governor." Mr. Granger reminded him. "I realize we can't really do that, but we can bring him to account in another way."

"How?" Asked Lom. "I've been trying for three months to get him to respond to me and I keep getting shut out."

"That's because you have been respecting the promise to keep the deal a secret."

"Of course."

"But the Governor's office has not kept its end of the deal." Granger persisted. "I assume that each Governor, upon appointment had been made aware of the agreement made with Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry?"

"Yes." Lom agreed. "Every one of them was informed of it and agreed to it."

"And yet when push came to shove, the Office closed the door and ignored the deal." Granger pointed out. "So they reneged on it first, which means all bets are off."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Jesse asked. "Storm the Governor's Office?"

"Yes!" Granger answered with a smile. "But not with people, and of course, not with guns, but with paper. We get in touch with as many newspapers in Wyoming that will take the story and let the people know exactly what the Governor's deal was and that it was ignored in the end."

"But would that work?" Jesse asked skeptically. "Most of the people in Wyoming with any kind of clout at all are the big ranchers and railroaders, not to mention the bankers. I think they would be more interested in seeing Heyes and Curry behind bars and not be too concerned about the Governor breaking a promise made to outlaws."

"You underestimate the power of the average citizen Mr. Jordan." Granger countered. "If every person in Wyoming who has the power to vote was convinced that their Governor does not keep his promises, well that's a very powerful tool."

Silence surrounded the table as this idea settled in and took hold. Bridget was already wrapping her brain around the possibilities and was suddenly very antsy to get home and bring Beth up to speed on what was in the works.

"We could do it Papa." She insisted to her father. "Beth and I could do this. We'll get in touch with all the newspapers in Wyoming and in Colorado as well. And the sooner we get started the better because Thaddeus' trial is going to start soon and maybe we can make a difference in time to help him!"

"How are you going to manage that from home?" Jesse pointed out to her, somewhat skeptical of his daughters getting involved in such a scheme

"I'll help them get it set up as much as I can." Mr. Granger offered. "A lot of it could be done through the telegraph system and the mail service."

Jesse sent Granger an exasperated look, but Bridget sent him one of open admiration. Jesse looked over at the doctor.

"You've been awfully quiet throughout all this David." He pointed out. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm not really qualified to have an opinion in this." David admitted. "There is not very much I would be able to contribute to the effort, though of course I'll help out where I can. Personally, at this point I feel that anything is worth a try."

"I'll do what I can." Lom offered. "But being a Wyoming Territorial Law Officer I would not openly be able to do much. Just as you yourself, Mr. Granger cannot show involvement in this as I'm sure it would indicate a conflict of interest."

"Yes." Granger agreed. "This is why I have presented it to you people who are their friends and supporters. I think it safe to say that Miss Bridget has made up her mind but if you gentlemen wish to think on it further that's quite understandable. As I said, it will take commitment and perseverance once it gets started. But please don't take too long. The lives of two young men could very well depend on it."

'So no pressure then' was the prevailing thought going around the table after that statement. The man wasn't a lawyer for nothing. Bridget smiled at him. Jesse looked worried. David and Lom were contemplating.

"We'll think on it."

Curry was numb in both mind and body. He sat on his bunk, knees drawn up and held to his chest, his eyes staring blankly ahead at nothing.

Morrison had exploded into the office crowing like a peacock, gleefully announcing the verdict to all those present.

"Twenty years! Ha! That's one 'great' outlaw we're never going to have to worry about again! Hear that Curry?! Twenty years to life—that could not have gone better!"

"That was pretty harsh." Rick commented. "Means he won't even be eligible for parole for twenty years. Jeez. I could understand it if he'd actually murdered someone but…."

"Oh, typical 'Hannibal Heyes' arrogance." Morrison explained. "Thought he could get away with being disrespectful to the court just like he is with everything else. Well, this time his attitude turned around and bit him hard! Maybe he'll learn some respect in prison, eh Curry? Ha ha. This is great! Think I'll go celebrate!"

Then just as quickly and obtrusively as he'd entered the office, Morrison banged out through the front door and was gone to go join the crowd over at the saloon who were also in a celebratory mood. Heavy silence settled over the jailhouse. Rick remained seated at the desk, but his eyes were on the prisoner and he never in all his life felt as sorry for another man as he did at that moment. The silence prevailed.

Curry couldn't believe it. Twenty years to life? How could that be? How 'disrespectful' could Heyes have been to warrant such an unforgiving sentence? This wasn't how it was suppose to end. Five years of living on the edge, of dodging posses and bounty hunters and other outlaws. Of always doing the 'right' thing, making the 'right' choices, trying to do everything by the book; this was suppose to have a happy ending. How could this be?

Jed felt his throat tightening. 'NO' he told himself. That wasn't going to happen! He bit into his lower lip, hands into fists, clutching his own hair, fighting the tears. Fighting a silent battle to keep him from drowning in fear and self-pity—and anger. Just what kind of lawyer was this Granger guy anyways?! What good did he do? Heyes probably would have done better defending himself with that kind of legal aid! The man must be a total imbecile! And now he was going to be defending Jed? What hope did he have now? Where one goes the other follows! How could this be? How could this have happened?

Curry was so focused on his own inner turmoil that he wasn't even aware of the deputy's eyes upon him. But ever since that day at the Jordan's ranch when Curry, pumped to the gills with morphine had still managed that insane escape attempt, Rick had felt a grudging respect for the outlaw. Then as the days of guarding him had turned into weeks and now months, there was no longer any 'grudging' about it. The deputy still didn't have any qualms about bringing the outlaw in to justice, but he now hoped that somehow Curry would find a way to escape the same judgment that had befallen his partner.

Obviously Rick never had the chance to get to know Hannibal Heyes all that well and the strongest memory he had of the man was of an enraged and manacled outlaw attacking three armed officers in a battle he couldn't hope to win. But in hindsight Rick could understand why Heyes had reacted in such a feral manner. His partner lay stricken and near death, their futures hanging by a thread and Curry and Heyes were well known for their loyalty to one another. Indeed, Morrison had banked on it.

Rick also believed that a lot could be told about a man by the company he keeps and the gathering of friends at Heyes' trial had consisted of law-abiding, honourable people. Would Heyes and Curry have such people standing by them at a time like this if they were not honourable themselves? Or at least, putting in the effort to try to be?

Rick sighed in frustration. Obviously this was not a clear case of black vs white, good vs evil or even lawfulness vs anarchy. There was so much more going on here. And what about that rumour of amnesty? Sheriff Trevors had certainly hinted that the outlaws had been offered something along that line without actually coming right out and saying it. But if that were the case, then why hadn't the Governor come forward? Too politically volatile? That might make sense.

And what was with Morrison?! Rick had worked with the Sheriff on other cases and hadn't felt this sickened by the man's behavior before. Or was that just because he'd never actually gotten to know the previous prisoners? On this occasion Rick not only came to know, but had come to like and respect the man whom he was guarding. So what did that say about Rick himself? Hmmm.

The tables had been turned. Rick had become so contemplative of his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the other man's shift of focus, and now the outlaw gazed upon him. Rick sighed and came back to the present and the two men's' eyes locked and held. The silence continued.

Eventually Rick got to his feet, opened the drawer of the desk and pulled out the whiskey bottle and two shot glasses. He filled the glasses and went over to the cell. Curry just sat on the bunk, hugging his knees and watching the Deputy with total despondency.

"C'mon' Curry." Rick suggested. "Come over and have a drink."

"In celebration?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"No. In conciliation."

Curry hesitated a moment and then with a complacent sigh, got up and went over to the bars. Rick handed him a drink and they tapped glasses out of a growing mutual respect and then each downed his shot in one swig and instantly felt better for it.

Rick took Curry's glass back and returned to his desk intending to glance over the daily paper yet again. He barely got settled however when the front door burst open and a flurry of skirts and blond hair came flying into the office and made a bee line straight towards the prisoner. Rick was on his feet in an instant and made a run back to the cell, just in time to block Bridget from reaching her destination.

"Hold on young lady! Just where do you think you're going?"

"Deputy Layton!" Bridget was indignant. "I just want to see my friend. You know he won't hurt me!"

"It's not him hurting you I'm worried about." Rick admitted. Bridget gave him a confused looked, so Rick continued. "Didn't I hear a suggestion that it was you who slipped Heyes a lock pick way back when? You wouldn't happen to be considering a similar tactic here and now would you?"

Bridget blushed instantly and Curry thought; so much for her interest in becoming an undercover detective seeing as how she had just admitted her own guilt under very light interrogation. Jesse chuckled as he and David entered the office at a more sedate pace.

"You see Bridget." Her father said. "There are always consequences."

"Yes Papa." Bridget hung her head and looked contrite. "I wasn't going to do anything Deputy; I just want to see my friend."

"And besides, Deputy." Curry put in. "Heyes is the only one who can pull off that trick. Giving me a lock pick would be a waste of time."

"Fine, you have your visit." Rick consented, but then he gave Bridget a stern look and wagged his finger at her. "But I'm going to be keeping my eye on you, so no funny business."

Then he headed back over to his desk, sending a conspiratory smile over to Jesse and David as he went. Indeed, the only one who took Rick's threat seriously was Bridget but of course, that was the whole idea.

Bridget approached the bars and smiled at her friend.

"Hello Thaddeus."

"Hello Bridget." He answered her and putting his hand through the bars, stroked her hair, and gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead. She looked like she might start crying again, but she kept a stiff upper lip and stayed dry.

"Hello Thaddeus." Jesse greeted him. "I guess you've heard the verdict?"

"Yeah." Curry admitted. "Why so harsh?"

"Well, I think he would have done okay on the sympathy plea, but then the defense attorney asked him a question that he refused to answer." Jesse explained. "And I guess this Judge won't tolerate that and just slammed him. Granger had warned Hannibal that it could go that way, but Hannibal just wouldn't back down."

"Awww Jeez." Curry responded. "What was the question?"

"Something about a confidence game you two pulled that was not legally sanctioned." Jesse continued. "Mr. DeFord asked for the names of your accomplices and Hannibal refused."

Jed looked confused. "What confidence game?" He asked. "What names?"

"A Winford Fletcher brought forward the accusation." Jesse informed him.

Suddenly the light dawned. Curry closed his eyes and groaned. Then he got angry.

"This was supposed to be about us!" He practically growled. "About me and Heyes earning our freedom, not about us turning in our friends in order to get it!"

Nobody said anything for a few minutes, giving Jed the time he needed to digest that bit of information and to calm down.

"How is he?" Jed finally asked. "How is Heyes taking this?"

Jesse and David exchanged looks.

"Not good." David told him. "Not good at all. And Turner won't let any civilians back in to see him. Sheriff Trevors though has gone back over there now to try and calm him down."

Curry nodded. "Well if anybody can it'll be Lom, I guess. Heyes must be fit to be tied right now."

"We all went and had a little conference with Mr. Granger over at the café." Jesse told him. "We're going to put in a plan of action to try and get the Governor to honour his promise to you two. I don't know how long it's going to take, but we'll keep after him until we get results. Bridget's already getting a full head of steam up and once she and Beth decide to dosomething—well, look out Governor!"

Jed actually laughed. "Ohh hoo, I feel better already!"

"So don't give up Thaddeus, okay." Said Bridget. "Promise?"

Jed smiled at her. "Okay Bridget, I promise I won't give up."

Bridget smiled back.

"We'll be heading home for a while." Jesse informed him. "But we'll be back for your trial date. Mr. Granger ought to be coming over soon to discuss strategy with you."

"Hmmm." Was Curry's only response.

"Don't hold what happened to Hannibal against him." Jesse said. "He's young, but he knows his business and he's doing everything he can."

"He's really nice." Bridget added with a shy smile.

Curry raised his brows and sent a questioning look over to Jesse. That paternal figure rolled his eyes. Curry tried to stifle the grin, but he wasn't too successful at it.

"We better be going." Jesse said and he put his right hand through the bars and shook hands with his friend. "Take it easy Thaddeus, and we'll see you in a few weeks."

"Yeah, okay." Curry answered a little disappointed that they were leaving. "I'll see you. Bye Bridget. Say 'hello' to Beth and your mother for me."

Bridget smiled, trying to stay positive for him. "I will. Bye."

"I'll be along in a few minutes Jesse." David told him. "I'll see you back at the hotel."

Jesse nodded and then he and his daughter left the office. David turned back to Jed just as Rick came up with the keys and unlocked the cell before anybody had even asked him to. David smiled at him.

"I won't be long." He assured the Deputy.

"Uh huh."

David entered the cell and the two friends returned to the bunk.

"What's going on there?" Jed asked him. "Don't tell me Bridget is falling for the lawyer."

David smiled. "Well I didn't notice anything happening, but apparently Jesse did." He admitted. "And the way Bridget acts whenever Mr. Granger is mentioned makes me think that—just maybe…."

"Ohh, ho ho." Curry laughed. "I bet Jesse's just thrilled about that!"

"Oh well, it comes to us all." David prophesied, and then turned serious again. "So, the same old question Jed; how's your shoulder, and why do you have a new bruise on your face?"

Curry rolled his eyes. "Shoulder's feeling really good, but my face? Well Morrison seemed to think I needed an attitude adjustment and that the bars of the cell were just too convenient an opportunity to pass up."

David gritted his teeth. "That son of a….there is something seriously wrong with that man."

"Yeah, well. Unfortunately he's not the only lawman out there who's like that." Curry told him. "Actually it seems to be more the rule than the exception."

David sighed. "It worries me, leaving you here with him." He admitted. "I'll be staying on a few more days, at least until they move you over to the main jailhouse. There are more people around over there so he won't have quite as free a reign as he does here."

Curry lowered his voice. "Don't worry about it David." He assured the Doctor. "I think Rick is getting a little fed up with his boss' attitude as well and will step in if things get out of hand."

David nodded. "I hope you're right. Okay, how much morphine do you have and how much are you still using?"

Curry pulled the pouch out from under his pillow and handed it over. David took a peek inside and nodded.

"Okay." He said. "Good. You are backing off of it."

"Yeah."

"I want you to start using it now only when you really need to, alright. While I'm in town we can work on getting you off of it altogether. If you have trouble sleeping we can always try some laudanum, okay?"

"Laudanum doesn't help me at all David."

"That's because your system is too used to the morphine. Just give it a chance."

"Yeah, okay." But Jed didn't look too pleased about it.

"Good. Alright! Let's get to it here." And David stood up and faced Jed. "Unbutton your shirt."

Not realizing that it was a test, Jed absentmindedly used his right hand to undo the buttons and it was only after he saw David smiling that he realized what he had just actually accomplished.

"Oh!" Curry stated, surprised. "I undid the buttons!"

"Yes, you did." David agreed with the obvious. "Good dexterity. Things are coming along quite nicely. We'll get you back almost good as new before you know it."

"Almost?"

"Let's not push it Jed."

"Yeah, alright."

Then the Doctor and the patient settled into what had become a usual routine now of massaging and stretching the muscles and working on the exercises. It only took about twenty minutes to get through but Curry was tired at the end of it and by the time David was ready to leave a lot of the stress had been worked out of Jed and he was feeling quite a bit calmer.

The Doctor took his leave and Curry returned to his bunk. He lay down, took his hat and put it over his eyes and tried to relax. He didn't think he was going to sleep, wasn't even trying to; he just needed to be alone with his thoughts for awhile. He hoped Heyes was alright. Thoughts of his partner and what he must be going through took over his mind and a wisping of sadness settled over him until he did in fact drift off to sleep.

Two days later Morrison entered the jailhouse with Jack and two of the regular deputies following in his wake and looking like they were on a mission. Rick got up from where he had been snoozing in the chair and reached for the keys to the cell.

"Is it time then?" He asked Morrison.

"Yup." The Sheriff answered. "Heyes should be well on his way by now so let's get this piece of burden off our hands."

Curry, who of course could not help but overhear this conversation, was on his feet in an instant and preparing himself for the usual, pointless searching. Sure enough as soon as Rick had the cell door opened, Morrison came in and pushing Curry up against the bars had quickly patted him down. Then the belt was cinched around his waist and his hands locked into the cuffs. This whole routine was getting to be so boring. Is this what the rest of his life was going to be like? Again, his heart and thoughts went out to his partner 'will Heyes be able to handle this?' And then; 'will I be able to handle this?' Curry sighed dejectedly and they led him out of the cell.

They kept to the side streets mainly, in an effort to avoid the majority of curious onlookers as they made their way by foot over to the main jailhouse. About half a block away from their destination the small group of men came out onto the main street, crossed the road and then straight up onto the boardwalk and towards the front office. Curry wasn't paying too much attention to the people they passed other than recognize the fact that most of them certainly recognized him. But then they walked by a gentleman sitting in a chair in front of his store and reading the daily paper while taking a break from his duties.

Curry couldn't help but notice the headline on the front page of the opened newspaper that the man was holding up while he read the inside articles. Jed almost did a double take; **HANNIBAL HEYES—RAILROADED?** What was that?! Curry didn't have time to read anything more of the article, but maybe he would be able to convince Rick, or David or somebody to get him a copy of that paper!

In the meantime Morrison had also noticed the headline and was then hurrying Curry along, before he had time to really digest what he had read and maybe start causing some problems. Indeed, the Sheriff was so focused on getting his prisoner into the jailhouse that he didn't notice that the prison wagon was still pulled up out of the way and to the side of the building. But then, just as they reached the office and Morrison had opened the door to go in, he saw Mike standing head and shoulders above a group of men walking across the street from the back lane. Then once having seen Mike, he noticed Sheriff Turner in the group and then—dammit! Heyes! What was he still doing here? They were supposed to have been gone an hour ago! Then, too late Morrison realized that he wasn't the only one who had spotted the convicted man.

"HEYES!"

Heyes had been just about to step up into the back of the wagon when his head snapped up and he spun around.

"KID?!...KID!"

Not thinking; just elated at seeing his partner again, Curry broke away from Rick and started towards his friend. That wasn't going to happen! Before Kid had gone more than two steps Morrison was on him and the rifle butt was up in a flash and landed a staggering blow to Curry's right shoulder. Curry heard the crack of a bone breaking inside and then the pain of it exploded and assaulted his brain and he passed out—but only for a heartbeat, just long enough to come to and find himself on the ground and pandemonium all around him.

Feet were running past him, over him and around him. Men were yelling and cursing and he heard Heyes' name being called out in anger more than once. Then someone had him by the underarms and was dragging him through the door and into the office where he was unceremoniously dumped and left to lay there, writhing in pain. He heard the office door slamming shut and still people running and yelling and someone, Morrison? Shouting for a doctor; "But not that Gibson idiot! Get me a real doctor! Get Dr. Jackson in here!" More running, the office door opening again, and slamming shut again, and then Curry passed out—again.

Heyes was grinning broadly at seeing his friend not only up and walking around, but not even needing his arm in a sling by this time. Such an improvement over the last time they had seen each other was an incredible relief! But then Heyes' grin disappeared just as quickly as it had come as he witnessed Morrison's assault on his partner and then anger rose up in him and that became fueled by a long standing hatred. Suddenly it was the right time for retribution after all.

As soon as Heyes had turned at the sound of Kid calling his name, Mike had grabbed hold of Heyes' arm in order to pull him back around. Then suddenly Heyes had launched himself off the bottom step of the wagon and he came straight up like a rocket, the top of his head slamming into the bottom of Mike's chin with a resounding CRACK! Mike staggered backwards, blood spewing from his mouth where he had bitten into his own tongue and maybe broken some teeth.

Instantly Heyes was charging! Head down, shoulders forward he headed for Morrison like a runaway freight train and plowed into the Sheriff before the lawman even had an inkling of bringing his rife around to bear. Heyes hit him so hard; Morrison was catapulted forward and went head first into the edge of the open office door. He went down in a crash, amongst yells and curses but was on his feet again in an instant, blood pouring from his nose that was obviously broken and there was the beginnings of an ugly red welt that ran down the left side of his nose, starting just above the brow and reaching all the way down to his chin.

Morrison was in a rage and had murder in his heart as he came after the fallen Heyes, yelling curses at him, but then everyone was on the move in an instant. Jack was pulling the injured Curry into the office as Rick and a number of the other deputies got between Heyes and the Sheriff and diverted the lawman back towards the building. Meanwhile, Mike who was miraculously still on his feet had grabbed Heyes where he lay and hauled him by his shirt collar and the manacle belt back towards the wagon.

Heyes was in a daze from the double impacts and was only vaguely aware of being grabbed and dragged and then tossed through the air like a sack of flour to land in a heap on the ground by the back of the wagon. Then Mike was on him again and grabbing him in the same manner, hauled him up and literally threw him into the prison wagon Heyes hit hard, banging into the bench that ran along the inside of the wagon for the prisoners to sit on and be manacled to. He lay on the floor, shaking his head, trying to clear away the buzzing.

Then Mike climbed into the wagon with him and grabbing him by a manacled arm, hauled him up to sit on the bench. Then the big deputy shook Heyes and gave him a couple of sharp slaps on his cheek.

"Hey, Heyes." Mike's speech was slurred due to his injuries and the blood he constantly had to spit out. "Heyes, you awake? Can you hear me?"

Heyes' eyes opened wide, though they still had a dazed look about them. He shook his head to further try to clear his brain.

"Yeah Mike." He finally answered. "Yeah, I can hear ya."

"Good."

Then Heyes got a clear view of Mike's huge paw of a fist coming down like a pile driver straight towards his left eye. Heyes had barely an instant to think; 'Oh crap! This is going to hurt!' before the blow hit home and Heyes was swimming in a whirlpool of stars and then total blackness.

TO BE CONTINUED


	10. Chapter 10

FRIENDSHIP

The young deputy came running into Dr. Jackson's office so totally flustered and out of breath that he had to take a moment to calm down before being able to complete his errand. Doc Jackson gave him a cup of water and a pat on the shoulder, along with the advice to take slow deep breaths etc until the young man finally calmed down enough to speak clearly.

"We need ya over at the Sheriff's office—right now!" Came the flustered message.

"Calm down young man. Tell me what happened."

"The sheriff's been injured!"

"Sheriff Turner?"

"No, no. The other one ahhh… Morrison. And one of his deputies too."

Jackson began to get his satchel ready to take over; putting in most of the items he thought he would need.

"Were they shot?" Jackson asked as he scurried around his office, grabbing items as he went. Although, he reasoned, he hadn't heard any gunfire.

"No." The deputy answered, finally getting his respiration back to normal. "Just beat up some. They're both bleeding pretty bad. I think the sheriff has a broken nose."

"What!? What happened?"

"Humm, I think they were trying to break up a fight between two prisoners."

"Was either of the prisoners injured?"

"Ahhh, oh." The deputy had to think on that for a moment. "I tripped over one of them lying on the floor, so I guess he was injured. The other one is on his way to the prison so I guess he's alright."

"So three injured men altogether?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You're doing an awful lot of guessing here Deputy."

"Well everything happened so fast!" The deputy defended himself. "They just told me to get over here and get ya!"

"Alright Deputy, that's fine." The doctor assured him. "You know where my assistant lives?"

"Yeah, that's Clive isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right." Jackson confirmed. "Go get him. Tell him what's happened and that I need him over at the Sheriff's office."

"Yeah, yeah okay."

"Alright. Off you go!"

"Right! I'll go get Clive."

As soon as the doctor entered the Sheriff's office he understood why the deputy had tripped over the prisoner because Jackson did pretty much the same thing. The shackled man was conscious and obviously in pain so Jackson knelt down to assess him but was distracted by a shout from the back office.

"Hey Doc! Never mind about him." One of the other deputies called to him. "You gotta tend to the lawmen first!"

Jackson realized that the prone man wasn't in any immediate danger so he got up and headed into the second office. One look and he had to admit that it looked like a war zone. Both injured lawmen were and bleeding and in foul tempers and just like the first deputy surmised; the Sheriff did appear to have a broken nose along with a couple of very impressive black eyes that were only going to be getting worse. The other injured lawman wasn't showing any bruising, but the blood around his mouth and the look in his eye told a story that didn't need translating.

Then they heard the front door opening followed by sudden curses coming from Clive as he tripped over the prisoner sprawled on the floor.

"Oh, sorry Clive." His companion apologized. "I should have told you about him."

"Yeah, Billy." Clive agreed. "That might have been a good idea."

"Clive!" Jackson called. "Get in here; I'm going to need your assistance."

"Well what about this one on the floor?!" Clive called back.

"He's not bleeding, he can wait." Jackson insisted. "Get in here!"

Clive then showed up at the door of the back office and took a look around.

"Oh Jeez." He commented. "Some prisoners gang up on you fellas or something?"

"Actually it was just one." Rick informed Clive.

"Just one?" Asked Clive and then jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he headed over to assess Mike's injuries. "That one out there?"

"Nope." Richard answered. "He actually didn't do anything too serious—just forgot where he was for an instant."

"Rick! Keep your mouth shut." Morrison growled at him. "Curry tried to break custody and he paid the price!"

"Oh, c'mon'! That's not…."

"Don't argue with me! That's what happened!"

"Fine." Rick relented with a resigned sigh. "At least let me go get Doc Gibson over here to tend to him."

"NO!" And Morrison instantly grimaced with the pain the expletive caused while Jackson started to stuff padding up his nose to stop the bleeding. "Keep that idiot away from here!"

"Somebody's got to tend to him." Rick pushed. "We can't just leave him lying on the floor."

"I'm almost done here." Jackson informed him. "Clive, how is your patient doing?"

"He's going to need some stitches in his tongue and, it's hard to tell through the blood, but he may have broken some teeth as well so we'll probably have to pull what's left of them out."

"Okay." Said Jackson. "I'll do that over in my office. It'll be easier over there. In the mean time Clive, you can take a look at the prisoner."

"Right." Said Clive and he gave Mike a smile and a pat on the shoulder and then headed back to the outer office. Mike looked surly.

Curry was still lying where he had been dumped and tripped over a number of times when Clive came out and approached him. Curry's eyes were closed, but opened half way when the assistant knelt down and put a hand on his arm. The prisoner groaned.

"Your right shoulder looks a little awkward." Clive commented. "I'm just going to unbutton your shirt and take a look at it, alright?"

Curry gave a barely readable nod and Clive gently went about his business. He knitted his brow a bit when he saw the freshly healed bullet wound but then returned his attention to the current injury and came to his conclusion quite quickly. He smiled and nodded at Curry, then got up and returned to the back office.

"His collar bone is broken." He announced. "Looks like a clean break though so it should heal up alright."

"Okay, good." Jackson acknowledged. "Are you okay to set it yourself?"

"Sure." Clive answered. "If one of the deputy's will help me."

"I'll help." Rick offered.

Morrison grumbled something rude about that, but the morphine that Jackson had given him was beginning to take effect and his blusterings weren't quite up to their usual standard. Rick ignored him and he and Clive were about to leave the office when Jackson stopped them.

"You better give him some morphine before you set it or it will hurt like hell." He told his assistance.

"Oh, I don't think that's…." Rick began, but Morrison cut him off.

"Don't be telling the Doc his business!" The Sheriff muffled through the padding.

"But Gibson's trying to…."

"Layton! Shut your mouth. The Doc knows best!"

In the meantime, Clive had picked up the supply of morphine that Jackson had left on the table and was in the process of mixing a full dose into a cup of water. Rick's jaw was set tight as he looked over at his boss, and the look that was sent back to him was bleary but adamant about what would happen if Rick interfered.

"Can I at least get the keys to those cuffs so that I can unlock him?" Rick asked quietly.

Morrison started doing a quick but wobbly pat down of his own pockets and then withdrew the keys from their hiding place and shakily held them out for Rick to take.

"Thanks." Rick mumbled as he snatched them from his boss and then turned and followed Clive back out to the front office.

"Okay Sheriff." Jackson said. "I don't want you being on your own for at least twenty-four hours, so why don't you just lie down on that cot over there and get some sleep. I'll check up on you later today."

"Fine Doc." Morrison agreed, and he carefully got to his feet. Turner offered a hand, but Morrison waved him away and weaved himself over to the cot and settled in.

"Well Deputy." Jackson said to Mike. "Looks like you're next in line. I'll get you stitched up over in my office."

Mike didn't look too pleased about that prospect, but nodded agreement and stood up to follow the doctor out.

"That must have been one big, mean outlaw to have caused this much damage all on his own." Jackson commented. Mike rolled his eyes and declined to answer.

A couple of hours later, Curry was in a cell and passed out on the cot in a morphine induced sleep. Rick and Clive had had no problem setting the broken bone and the right arm had again been bound and wrapped snuggly up against the patient's torso so the break could heal. Rick had been left standing outside the cell door for some time now, watching the man sleep, and worrying about what Dr. Gibson was going to say about this.

He had been debating back and forth about whether or not to inform the good doctor about this new event or just hang back and let Gibson find out about it on his own. After all, the damage had already been done and telling Gibson about it now wouldn't change that. Not knowing anything about drugs in general, it never occurred to him that Curry might have been given an overdose. Still Rick felt like he was obligated to say something, but also knew that by doing so, he would be going against his boss's orders. What the hell, knowing Gibson he was going to be over to check up on his 'special patient' any time now anyways. May as well just leave it alone.

Finally Rick pushed himself up off the bars where he'd been leaning and headed out of the cell block. Curry was really no longer his problem. He had been signed over legally into the custody of the Cheyenne Sheriff's Department and was now Turner's responsibility. Still, Rick thought, Mike had stayed on to watch over Heyes, so Rick may be asked to do the same thing with Curry, especially since his friend Sheriff Trevors had already left for Porterville. Maybe he'll start getting an hour a day out of this cell too. Well, no harm in thinking about it a bit more over a glass of beer and a bite of lunch.

Once the cell block was again empty of lawmen, the two prisoners on either side of Curry's cell got up and moved over to the bars on either side of the new inmate.

"Well George, what do ya think?" One of them asked the other.

"I donno Fred. He looks harmless enough."

"That's cause he's unconscious you idiot!" George threw back at him. "Heyes was harmless too when he was drugged out."

"Well they can't both of em' be that ornery!" Fred reasoned. "They'd a kilt each other by now!"

"I suppose." George conceded. "That is Kid Curry ain't it?"

"That's what they's been callin' 'im."

"Well, ain't he supposed to be the mean one?"

Fred shrugged. "That's what they's been say'n."

Both men were silent then, looking over at the sleeping gunman trying to imagine how anyone could be more cantankerous than the previous occupant of that cell.

Later that afternoon Rick returned to the jailhouse to find both David and Steven Granger in the cell block discussing the situation. Both men were in the cell, while David was sitting on the cot beside his patient, checking his vital signs. He seemed content that Curry wasn't going to expire then and there but he was still just barely keeping his anger under control. Granger was also tight lipped at this new development.

"So much for going over strategy today." Granger was saying. "But at least the Judge has agreed to the hour a day reprieve for now anyway. Maybe we can get him out tomorrow if he's feeling up to it."

"We'll see." David mumbled, and then noticed Rick standing by the door. "Why didn't you let me know this had happened?"

Granger was confused for a moment, but then realized that the Doctor wasn't speaking to him and he turned to see Rick standing behind him.

"Morrison refused to let me come and get you." Rick admitted point blank. "And last I looked he was still my boss. I tried to tell them not to give him any more morphine but they wouldn't listen."

"I think I'm going to be having a word with your 'boss' about this, very soon."

"I'd watch my step if I were you Doc." Rick warned him. "After what Heyes did to him he is in a pretty foul temper."

"Why? What did Heyes do to him?"

"Broke his nose for starters."

David never would have thought there would be anything Rick could say that would put a smile on his face, but that did it.

"How come he went down so hard Doc?" Rick asked, gesturing towards Curry. "Hell, I've broken my collar bone before and I didn't pass out."

"It's accumulative." David explained. "His system is still dealing with the first injury and then it gets hit with a second one in the same area. It may just be a simple break, but it was the shock of it that knocked the stuffing out of him. I suppose putting him to sleep for awhile is probably the best medicine right now. I just wish he hadn't given him morphine." David sighed and stood up. "Oh well, we'll see what tomorrow brings."

Mid-morning of the next day, David returned to the jailhouse to check up on the patient. Turner took him back and opened the cell door for him and David stepped through with a smile for the occupant.

Curry was awake, but very low key. He was sitting on the cot, leaning against the back wall with his knees drawn up, looking like he had just been through the wars and was none too happy about it either. The two inmates on either side of him were eyeing the outlaw cautiously.

"Well Jed." David began. "How are you feeling today?" As though he couldn't tell that just by looking at the man.

"I was certain it was all just a bad dream." Jed admitted. "I woke up to find my arm all bundled up again and thought I was trapped in a nightmare."

David smiled and went to sit down beside his friend and gave him a conciliatory pat on one of his knees.

"I know." He said. "But it's not too bad. It'll delay your recuperation a bit, but shouldn't have any other effect. One piece of good news though, Granger has arranged for you to get out of here for an hour every day, just like Hannibal did. So you have that to look forward to. Granger will probably be by this evening to see you."

"I don't know how much good I'm going to be to him today David." Curry admitted. "My brain still feels like oatmeal."

"I know." David assured him. "That's why I told him to hold off until this evening. Give you a bit more time to get that morphine out of your system."

"Ohhh, yeah." Curry groaned. "I'm sorry David. I tried to tell that Doctor not to give me any of that, but he had it down my throat before I could stop him. You guys are really good at that sort of thing."

David chuckled. "Yeah, I know." He said. "It comes with the territory. Don't worry about it, we'll just—start over."

"How's Heyes?"

David turned serious again. "I don't know. I never saw him." The doctor admitted. "He's probably at….well, at the…."

"At the prison by now." Curry finished for him.

"Yeah."

Curry nodded and both men became silent for a moment. Then the sound of Morrison's voice could be heard coming from the front office, and David practically growled.

"Take it easy Jed." He said as he got to his feet. "I need to go have a word with the good Sheriff."

"Ohhh, you be careful David."

"Always."

David came into the office and was met by Morrison's black and blue face rounding on him.

"What the hell is he doing here!?" Morrison demanded in a voice sounding like it was fighting its way through a wet blanket.

"I could ask you the same thing!" David answered before Turner had a chance to respond. "Curry is no longer your prisoner, but he is still my patient! Why wasn't I informed of this new injury!?"

"The local doctor took care of it. Your services weren't required." Morrison growled back. "Why don't you just go home where you belong!"

"Apparently I belong here! You knew I was trying to get him off the morphine, why did you let that doctor give him a full dose of it!?"

"I figure the Doc knew what he was doing."

"But he didn't know that Jed has already been on morphine for months and is still taking it! It was dangerous to give him more!" David insisted. "You could have killed him!" Then David went quiet for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "Or is that what you were hoping would happen?"

Morrison's temper erupted! He threw aside a chair that was in his way and lunged at the medical man. In an instant Morrison had David backed up against the wall, his hands around the doctor's throat and squeezing with murderous intent! Turner was taken totally by surprise, but two beats later he was on the two men, trying to get the big Sheriff to release his hold!

"Come on Morrison, back off of him!" Turner yelled at him, grabbing his hands and trying to get him to let go.

David was fighting for his life! Morrison had a strangle hold on his throat and wasn't showing any signs of letting go. David could feel the blood rushing to his head and a buzzing in his ears as he started to punch the Sheriff on his broken nose in a frantic effort to get him off.

Two deputy's who were in the back office heard the scuffle and ran in to help and finally, between the three lawmen, they were able to pull Morrison off his victim and drag him over to the other side of the room.

David slid to the floor, clutching his throat and gasping for air. He was shaking from the assault—he couldn't believe the man had actually attacked him! As the buzzing in his ears started to dissipate he could hear Curry shouting from inside the cell block, but David was in no condition yet to respond and just sat on the floor fighting to get air into his lungs.

Inside his cell, Curry was on his feet the instant he heard what sounded like a chair crashing into a wall, then the sounds that followed got his heart pounding and he charged the bars of the cell. He grabbed the door, frantically yanking at it in the hopes that maybe David hadn't closed it properly when he'd left, but no such luck; the cell door was closed and locked and wasn't budging. Curry started to yell, still yanking at the door and then hitting the bars out of frustration.

George and Fred exchanged looks across the cells and then each man retreated to their farthest corners to keep as much distance as possible between themselves and yet another explosive madman who had been plunked into their midst.

Finally the block door opened and David poked his head in, still holding his throat. Curry thought he looked pale.

"It's alright Jed." David croaked, and then coughed. "Everything's okay."

"Jeez, David. You sure?" Curry asked, very concerned.

"Yeah, it's alright." Then the door closed and David disappeared.

Curry sighed with relief and then turned to go back to his cot. His knees were shaking. He then caught the expression on the face of George, cowering in his corner and took a look over at Fred and was met with the same expression from that corner. Curry shook his head and smiled.

"It's alright fellas." He assured them. "I'm not going to self-destruct on ya."

Back out in the office Turner was in the process of pouring out five shots of brandy (the good stuff) while Morrison and David continued to glare at each other.

"I think everybody just needs to calm down." Turner stated as he handed the shot glasses around. "Tempers seem to be a little high right now. Cheers."

Everyone downed their drink and it did help to break the tension just a little. David found that the alcohol burned his throat on the way down, and it went straight to Morrison's already pounding face, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it.

"You two need to find a way to get along." Turner suggested as he poured out two more shots. "Why don't you take these drinks, go into the back office and try to talk this out."

This suggestion was met with silent hostility. David didn't want to be anywhere near the Sheriff and Morrison wished the doctor would just go away.

"Are either one of you intending to leave town soon?"

"NO!" Came the unified retort.

"Well then." Turner shrugged. "Better work it out." Then he handed them each another drink and gestured towards the back office.

Suddenly feeling like two boys who had just had the principal catch them fighting in the school yard, the two men took the offered drinks and cautiously made their way into the other office, David making sure that Morrison stayed in front of him every step of the way.

They both sat down on opposite sides of the desk and solemnly glared at each other.

"Alright." Morrison finally broke the silence. "Let's be honest Doc; I don't like you and you don't like me."

"Nothing to disagree with yet." David mumbled.

"I think you're a namby-pamby, lily- livered sorry excuse for a real doctor and you think I'm a sadistic bastard who just likes to inflict pain for no reason."

David just glared at him.

"The Territory of Wyoming asked me to capture Heyes and Curry and get them to trial. The reason they asked me is for one reason and one reason only." Morrison explained. "They knew that I could do it. My ways are harsh, but those two outlaws have been running wild for over ten years and nobody has been able to hold on to them. It was time to get tough."

"Getting tough is one thing." David answered him. "But you go beyond that. You're right; I do think you're sadistic, I think you really do enjoy hurting people."

"I don't enjoy it Doc." Morrison disagreed. "I just don't mind doing it. Not if I know it will get the job done. I studied those two men Doc, I figured out their strongest abilities and then that's where I hit them. If you go after where a man is strongest then you have to hit hard or they'll just run right over you. Look what happened with Heyes; I had him right where I wanted him. One look at me and he'd back off and keep his mouth shut, but look what happened as soon as I handed him over to these idiots here. This is supposed to be the Most secure jail in the whole territory, but Heyes damn near walked out the front door! It was just by chance he was stopped! That would not have happened if he'd still been in my custody."

"So the whole idea was to break him?" David asked with a bit of a sneer.

"Break him? No." Morrison answered. "I just needed Heyes to know that he wasn't going to get away with pulling his crap on me, and he did know it! I didn't come anywhere near breaking him; if I had I wouldn't be sporting a broken nose and two black eyes. No, it's going to take prison to break Hannibal Heyes."

"And you're pleased about that?"

"Nope." Morrison said. "Couldn't care less either way. My job is done as far as he's concerned. I arrested him and I got him to trial. What the judge decided to do with him after that was up to him. I admit I'm glad he didn't get off. The man's an outlaw through and through. I don't care about his past, a lot of us had a hard time growing up—so what. Now maybe the things that happened did make him who he is, but that's still who he is and if he'd gotten a pardon he would have just gone back to being who he is—an outlaw."

"But Sheriff, they have been trying to go straight." David pointed out. "And they have friends who are willing to stand by them and vouch for them."

"Yeah." Morrison smirked. "I think those friends got a bit of an eye opener at Heyes' trial don't you? Seems he wasn't staying quite as straight as his friends thought."

"I think there is more to it than that." David insisted.

"Well then maybe he should have explained himself in court." Said Morrison. "But he didn't, did he? Because he couldn't explain it, he couldn't justify it. He'd gotten caught and that's all there is to it."

"He couldn't explain it because it would have ment implicating other people." David pointed out. "Seems to me he was protecting someone else."

"Yeah." Morrison agreed. "Other thieves! This just goes to show that he's still thick with them, still working with them. He's a cardsharp, a conman and a thief himself. Nothing's changed!"

David decided to let that one go. Morrison had one opinion and David had another. As far as the doctor was concerned, Heyes had good people who were willing to stand by him and that in itself should carry some influence in judging the man. But Morrison was adamant so there was no point in arguing the point. Besides, Heyes' situation was somewhat a mute point now since the man had been sentenced and convicted and was probably already getting his first taste of prison life.

David changed tact's and brought up another situation that he had felt was above and beyond the call of duty.

"Well, there was no need to shoot that man from the train." David pointed out. "If you had wanted to get the attention of those outlaws all you had to do was fire your gun in the air."

"Yup, that's true." Morrison agreed.

"Well then—why!?"

"Because I didn't do it to get Carlson's attention." Morrison explained. "I did it to get Curry's attention."

"But Jed said that you told…."

"I told Carlson I did it to get his attention just to make him feel like he was important, like he actually had some say in the negotiations." Morrison said. "But Curry was the one who was going to make things happen, he was the one who had to take control of his gang and make them do his bidding. I had to let Curry know—right now—what would happen if he didn't co- operate."

"So you killed a man just to get Jed to go along with you, something he probably would have done anyways."

"I didn't kill a man." Morrison countered. "I killed an outlaw, and a two bit one at that. And there was no time for 'probably', I needed that situation defused instantly, like I said—right now. I did what I had to do to make it happen."

David was silent, but he still didn't look convinced. Morrison shook his head.

"You are so concerned over the death of one low-life outlaw that you're not seeing the whole picture." The Sheriff carried on. "What do you think would have happened if that gang had boarded the train and come across their boss in custody? Do you really think they would have just walked away from that? They outnumbered us three to one. They would have tried to take Curry by force and who knows how many people could have been killed. Women and children, Doc, they would have been right in the middle of it. You should be thanking me."

David hated to admit it, but the Sheriff was actually starting to make sense. If a full-blown gunfight had broken out on that train the results could have been disastrous.

"But still." David wasn't ready to give up yet. "This most recent incident. From what Rick tells me, Jed wasn't trying to break away. There was no need to use that kind of force, indeed it was you reacting that way that set Hannibal off."

Morrison shook his head again, like he had to explain logic to a child.

"I said right from the get go 'Don't let those two get together.'" Morrison continued to explain. "I didn't want those two seeing one another, or even hearing anything about one another. Unfortunately I couldn't stop their 'friends' from bringing information back and forth, so that part couldn't be helped. But they've proven over and over again; together they're dangerous! Keep them apart and you keep them off balance. Dammit, Heyes was supposed to have been gone two hours before I brought Curry over! And the prison coach was supposed to be in the back lane! I don't know what the hell Turner was thinking! Now maybe I did over react a bit there, but I was mad! I'd had Curry's attitude right where I wanted it—and then he sees Heyes! God dammit! So yeah, I hit him hard. Now maybe in your mind it was too hard, but I disagree. I don't want these outlaws to like me, I don't even want them to respect me, I just want them to know their place and to stay there."

Morrison stopped talking for a minute and took a drink. David remained quiet, just staring ahead. The sheriff sighed and then continued.

"I've seen the way you are with these two, treating them like regular folk, calling them by their first names. I hear you talking to Curry, the two of you laughing like you're old buddies. But I tell you Doc, the only people those two are loyal to are each other. Look what happened to Mike. He treated Heyes with a lot more leniency than I ever would have, those damn weekly poker games—what the hell was he thinking!? But did Heyes respect that? No! As soon as Mike got in his way; 'POW!' Now Mike's going to be eating soup for a month." Here Morrison stopped and shook his head. "And I don't know what's going on with Layton. He was my best right hand man—but now…." Morrison shook his head again. "I don't know." Then he went back to his original point. "Those two outlaws have just simply been putting up with you because you're helping them, and right now it's Curry. Everything he is is tied up with being a gunman and he was scared to death that he was going to loose that. Now here you are, a young up and coming doctor, all 'back east trained' and full of ideas and you're going to make him all better again. He's just using you, cause that's what they do; they use people to get what they want and to take what they want. You mark my words Doc; if there ever comes a time when you get in between Kid Curry and something he wants you are going to find yourself face to face with a totally different breed of man. How do you think he got that reputation in the first place? By being the nice guy? You just might end up regretting helping him get his shooting arm back in shape."

A chill went through David as he recognized the same sentiment coming from the Sheriff as the one his wife had suggested to him concerning the outlaw's recovery. He still didn't feel that he wanted to agree with it, but it was un-nerving all the same.

Morrison finished his brandy and got up.

"That's it for me." He announced. "You chew on that for a while Doc. If you've got anything more to say I'll see you in the morning. Right now, I'm heading back to the hotel to get some more sleep."

And with that the Sheriff plunked the empty shot glass down on the table and took his leave. David sat there for a few more minutes, just staring into space, his drink still untouched. He felt heart-sick. Was his friendship with Jed just a ruse on the outlaw's part in order to use him? He didn't want to believe it, but the Sheriff had put forth a convincing argument and David just wasn't sure what the truth was anymore.

Finally he downed his drink in one go and stood up to leave. He decided to check up on Jed one more time before going back to the hotel himself, perhaps just feeling the need to re-connect with the man and to try and reestablish his footing. Unfortunately when he came up to the cell door, it was to find Jed sound asleep on his cot and not looking like he was going to wake up any time soon. David sighed in disappointment and was just about to turn around and leave when George came up to the bars to talk.

"Hey Doc." He said quietly, not wanting to awaken the outlaw. "You've spent time with Curry, is he just as mean and unpredictable as his partner?"

David looked over at the man.

"I'm sorry. I don't know." He admitted sadly. "I don't think I know him well enough to be able to say."

And then he turned and walked out of the cell block.

Jesse lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, even though late at night as it was, he couldn't really see it. His left arm was under his own head, supporting it while it was working overtime in a hopeless effort to try and sort things out. His right arm was around his wife, who was snuggled up against him, apparently asleep. He hadn't moved or made a sound since they had settled into bed an hour ago but as usual, his efforts to pull one over on his wife was about to end in failure.

Without moving or opening her eyes Belle finally gave a resigned sigh, and Jesse heard a muffled "What's the matter?" coming from the vicinity of his armpit.

"Why does something have to be the matter?" He knew it was hopeless, but he had to try.

Belle pushed herself up on an elbow and gazed at her husband through the darkness.

"You and Bridget returned home from Cheyenne this afternoon and other than the detached announcement that poor Joshua is on his way to prison, neither one of you have said a word about how it went." Belle reminded him. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if Bridget is busy filling Beth in on all the details while I'm speaking." She stopped and waited for some response. When none was forthcoming she gave him a gentle shake.

Finally he sighed and pulled a 'Hannibal Heyes' by running his left hand through his hair. Belle knew she had him.

"Do you think that I am a weak minded or indecisive person?" Jesse asked his wife.

"What!?" Belle was flabbergasted for a moment. That was the last thing she had expected to hear. "Why in the world would you think that?"

"All throughout Hannibal's trial the ongoing theme seemed to focus on what an excellent con man he is." Jesse explained. "How easily he can manipulate people into believing anything he wants them to believe. Even to the point of disguising his own true character."

"And you think that Joshua has been manipulating us and the girls?"

"I don't know." Jesse said, frustrated. "I just keep remembering back to when we first met them and that Sheriff's posse had the place surrounded."

"Yes?"

"I would never in my life have thought that I would deliberately lie to an officer of the law and yet—I did. I hadn't had any intentions of doing it, but suddenly I found myself agreeing to that little ruse that would ultimately cheat that posse out of their reward money." He stopped here, thinking back to that day and Belle waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. "In hindsight I can see how Hannibal had done it, playing on the girls' affection for him and Thaddeus and using that to basically 'guilt' me into agreeing with their plan."

Belle settled back down and nestled into her husband. Now that the floodgate had been opened she knew she was in for a long dialogue.

"They were desperate." Belle reminded him. "Joshua was just using a technique he knew would work in order to save the situation."

"Yes. Manipulation."

"Do you regret now, promising to help them?"

"Oh, I don't know." Jesse admitted. "Listening to Hannibal recount the events of his childhood was heart wrenching. Belle, what those boys went through was terrible—and that was just Hannibal's account, Thaddeus has yet to give his and I find myself dreading it. I know they have led very dangerous lives. When David and I were getting Hannibal cleaned up the day they were arrested, we saw so many scars on him, most of them were minor injuries but there were a few…."

"I know." Belle answered quietly. "Tricia and I found the same thing while we were looking after Thaddeus. It's a miracle they're both still alive. But I think that just explains even more the skills they had to develop in order to stay safe in a very hostile environment."

"Yes, I know, but now I wonder if those skills have become so ingrained in their behavior that neither one of them can ever truly be trusted."

"Jesse." Belle was saddened by her husband's concern. "They've always been true to us, you know that."

"Do I?"

"They are both honourable men, I know it in my heart that they are." Belle insisted. "Look at how good they are with the girls. Thaddeus could easily take advantage of Beth's youth and inexperience, but he doesn't, he's very protective of her."

"He knows I'd kill him if he ever did anything improper!" Jesse stated, but there was a hint of a tease in his tone.

Belle smiled. "And you know that he never would!" Then she laughed. "And that would be quite the sight, watching you try to outdraw Kid Curry."

"Oh I don't know." Jesse mused. "If I get to him before his shoulder completely heals up I just might have a chance."

They both laughed a little at that possibility, and then Belle became reflective again. "And the way he's taken to Jay; he's so gentle with him and so patient. They've had a rough start and have developed some questionable skills, but they both want to change. They just need someone to show them how."

Suddenly Jesse groaned and he ran a hand over his eyes.

"What?" Belle asked, concerned again.

"Something about Hannibal that I'd wondered about before, but now it suddenly makes sense."

"What?" Belle asked again.

"You were talking about how Thaddeus has taken to JJ. It's reminded me how in contrast, Hannibal tended to avoid him."

"Yes, I'd noticed that." Belle admitted. "It's odd. Joshua is obviously drawn to Jay, and yet it seems, deliberately stayed away from him, pushing him on to Thaddeus instead."

"Yeah." Jesse sighed. "I wasn't going to say anything about this yet, but Hannibal had a younger sister, a baby. He even said to me in the court; 'not much older than JJ.' That baby died in the raid on their farm and Hannibal blames himself for it. It was something he had forgotten about, or didn't want to remember and now it just suddenly makes sense, him not wanting to get close to Jay. The whole situation probably scared him, bringing him too close to emotions that had been buried so deeply and for so long that he dare not even look in that direction."

Silence settled onto them again while both contemplated the tragedy that had been so instrumental in shaping the lives of their two friends.

"I lied in court." Jesse finally admitted. "I said that I truly believed that Hannibal was capable of reforming and all he needed was a chance to turn his life around. But even then, after hearing those testimonies of the things he had done, I was already having my doubts. Oh, Belle. All the rumours and stories we have heard about him that we had come to believe were extreme exaggerations I now realize were barely scratching the surface. We really don't know that man at all and I wonder if I have done the right thing in promising to stand by him."

"I don't wonder about it." Belle stated. "I don't care what he has done in his past, he wants to change and I believe that he is a good enough man to deserve our support. I also know you well enough to know that you will see it as a point of honour to stand by your promise to him, even if you are having doubts about it now."

"Yes, you're right." Jesse conceded with a sigh. "I even assured him of that again the last time I spoke to him. He was looking so scared and vulnerable I just couldn't turn my back on him." Then he laughed. "And Bridget! She has no doubts at all. She had a hard time hearing some of those truths about her friend, but it was a good lesson too; that loving someone doesn't necessarily mean they're going to be what you want them to be. You just have to decide if you are willing to accept who they really are and stand by them, or not accept it and walk away." Then Jesse laughed again, a little ironically. "So I guess my own daughter has shown me the way! Hannibal is part of this family and even though he has done a lot of things that I would never approve of, I have given him my word and on my honour I will stand by it. I just hope there is enough honour and strength in him to do the same."

Now, with having worked his way around to that decision, Jesse became settled and relaxed in his mind. He hugged his wife, kissing her on the forehead and then still snuggled together in each others arms they drifted off to sleep.

Breakfast the next morning was again a vociferous affair! Bridget had indeed filled Beth in on all the details, not only of the trial but of the strategy suggested by Mr. Granger to try and force some action.

"We already got in touch with the newspaper in Cheyenne before we left and gave them our point of view. They promised they would get it printed as soon as they could." Bridget was telling her mother. "And then Steven said that we…"

"Bridget!" Her father interrupted. "Remember what we discussed earlier."

"Oh, yes. Sorry Papa." Bridget admitted, and then continued with a slight change. "Then Mr. Granger said that we can start sending actual letters to people once he gets the contact information from Thaddeus. And to start sending letters to the Governor! The actual Governor—can you believe it?! Stev…Mr. Granger even gave me the address to send it to and everything!"

"Well that sounds like you have quite an undertaking there." Belle commented. "Do you think you can manage all that from home?"

"Oh yes Momma." Bridget assured her. "We already have plenty of people we can contact right now and if they can contact people and then everybody can send letters to the Governor…we'll have his office swamped in no time!"

"You're awfully quiet Beth." Belle observed. "Is this something you want to help your sister with?"

"Yes Momma." Beth admitted with a smile. "I was just planning my strategy."

Jesse and Belle exchanged smiles over the oatmeal. This could get interesting.

"And how do you intend to pay for all these telegrams and letters you need to send?" Belle asked.

"Stev….Mr. Granger said that he would wire us money to cover that cost whenever we need it." Bridget assured her mother.

"I think we can take care of those ourselves." Jesse commented. "Considering I'm one of the people paying Mr. Granger in the first place."

The two young ladies beamed smiles over at their parents. The fact that they could finally do something to help their friends was giving them both energy and high hopes for the coming months. Surely now, both their friends would be coming home for Christmas!

"Papa?" Beth began hopefully.

"Yes?"

"Now that we are going to be working with Mr. Granger and helping Thaddeus and Joshua, can I come to Thaddeus' trial next month?"

Strained silence settled over the breakfast table. This was the very question that had been plaguing Jesse all the way home from Cheyenne. He knew that Beth would want to join them for the second trial especially since Bridget would be sure to have filled her in on what happened at Hannibal's. Was she old enough to deal with it? Thaddeus was someone she had quite the crush on, but it could become a 'crush' of another kind if what she might hear at his trial ended up breaking her heart.

Hannibal's trial had been bad enough, but even though Bridget had found it hard to listen to initially, she rallied quickly, and finally knowing the truth about her friend had only inspired her to want to help him more. Would Beth respond the same way, or would she fall apart, and not be able to deal with it?

For a man who was head of the household, and could usually make the tough decisions that needed to be made, Jesse found himself looking to his wife for her input quite a lot more lately. Two daughters who were growing up right before his eyes and demanding by right of passage, more and more respect and independence were causing their father many a sleepless night.

"We'll see." Jesse finally answered her. "Your mother and I will discuss it."

Beth and Bridget exchanged smiles.

Betsy smiled sweetly at the blond outlaw sitting at the table ordering supper. Steven Granger she already knew, and the other man who wore a deputy's badge and who had been referred to as 'Rick', didn't interest her at all. But Mr. Curry was a different matter altogether.

He had one arm tightly bandaged up and in a sling—poor dear—but in a way that only made him more interesting and the blond curls and those brilliant blue eyes that smiled back at her just about melted her heart. She couldn't decide which of the two outlaws she'd met in the cafe was more handsome, but though Mr. Heyes had been gorgeous to look upon, and the dimpled smile he used to flash at her would take her breath away, he hadn't really seemed to be looking at her. He had just been going through the motions of acknowledging another human being.

But Mr. Curry, when he smiled and looked at her, he really looked at her to the point where she felt embarrassed and wanted to cover up even though she was fully dressed. But he wasn't leering; he was sweet and very appreciative.

The other two men at the table just sat back and watched this exchange with some measure of amusement. Where Lom had been irritated by Heyes' ability to flirt successfully without even realizing he was flirting, Steven and Richard could appreciate an artist at work.

"Would you like some coffee with your supper Mr. Curry?" Betsy asked with a smile.

"Oh, yes ma'am ah, miss." Curry smiled back. "Some good coffee would be real welcome after the swill I've been drinking."

"Jailhouse coffee isn't that bad." Rick had to put one in there for the team.

Curry just snorted. "I hear even Heyes couldn't drink it." He commented. "Now that's

bad coffee."

"We're serving steak and potatoes for supper tonight." Betsy informed them. "And apple pie for dessert."

"That'll be fine Betsy." Granger answered. "Thank you.

Betsy disappeared but was quickly back with the three coffees on a tray and she handed them out with another shy smile at the blue eyed prisoner.

Rick reached over and unlocked the bracelet encircling Curry's left wrist so that he could at least eat his supper with some measure of freedom, but he left the right bracelet intact and the cuffs dangling just in case. Rick had gotten over his scare that Curry would try to make a break for it again, he knew the time for that had passed, but he wanted those cuffs handy just in case Morrison showed up. The mood that Sheriff was in these days, it just didn't pay to be sloppy.

Mr. Granger had been a little apprehensive about having one of Morrison's deputy's along on what was supposed to be a confidential discussion between himself and his client. Curry however did not seem concerned about it and had assured the lawyer that Rick was not likely to go running to the prosecution with any overheard information. So when Curry had indicated that he was feeling better and would actually appreciate a decent meal instead of the steady diet of jailhouse food it had been agreed that the café was as good a place as any to have a meeting.

Once the coffee had arrived, Granger couldn't help but notice that Curry's appreciation of the beverage very closely mirrored his partner's actions on his first visit here. The two men were very different in many ways and then suddenly something would happen, like the coffee and the bond between them, even though they were separated by a fair distance, would be so apparent it was almost eerie.

Curry closed his eyes and savoured his first mouthful—it had been so long since he'd had REAL coffee, he just allowed his senses to be inundated with it. Then he swallowed and sighed with a smile and took another sip. He opened his eyes and found the other two men staring at him.

How could anybody make drinking a cup of coffee seem like such an erotic experience? Both men looked at their own coffees, wishing that they could have some of what he was having. It was all the same coffee, but still….

The suppers arrived and the three plates delved out, but the plate placed down in front of the Kid already had the steak and potatoes conveniently cut up into bite size pieces. Curry smiled, he had been wondering how he was going to manage that and now here it was all nicely taken care of for him. He needed to get out of that jail cell more often.

"Well, Mr. Curry." Granger began between mouthfuls. "What are your thoughts about your upcoming trial? I know it looks bleak after what happened with Mr. Heyes but it would be dangerous for you to assume that the same verdict will automatically come to you as well."

Curry sent a skeptical look over to Granger while he chewed a mouthful of steak

"Well I don't see how it can go different Mr. Granger." Curry answered after he swallowed. "All the prosecuting attorney has to do is ask me the same question he asked Heyes and the trial would be over."

"So I take it that you would also refuse to answer that question if it were put to you?" Granger asked him.

"Yeah." Curry answered as though it should be obvious.

Granger sat back in his chair for a moment, considering the options.

"Well." He began. "We do have the right to keep you from testifying yourself, thereby avoiding the question altogether, but it wouldn't look good and it would also deny us what could possibly be our best defense; the sympathy plea. But again, it would be dangerous to assume that your trial will take the same direction as your partner's. Once we get the list of witnesses from Mr. DeFord we might have a better idea of the type of defense we would need to develop."

"What other kind of defense could there be?" Curry asked. "Heyes and I are partners; we were both involved with the same crimes."

"Yes." Granger agreed. "But the prosecution tended to focus on your partner's ability as a confidence player—a con man. It's highly unlikely they're going to try and use the same tactic with you. For one thing Mr. DeFord would know that we would be expecting that."

"Well then, what?" Curry asked.

"You tell me Mr. Curry." Granger put to him. "What were your particular abilities that made you so good at what you did?"

"I backed Heyes up." Curry stated matter of factly. "He came up with the plans, the schemes and I backed him up."

"With your gun." Granger stated.

"Well, yeah." Curry agreed. "But I never actually had to shoot anyone during a robbery. That was the whole point of building a reputation; people would just automatically submit once they heard my name."

"Hmmm." Granger thought about it for a moment. "DeFord could go with that. You are a gunman, but then again as you say; you never had to use it during one of your robberies so it would be hard for him to build a case on that alone." Granger stopped and considered some more while he chewed his steak. "It's already been stated that Heyes was a master of manipulation." He finally continued. "We could put it to the court that you were influenced by him. You were used to following his lead ever since you were children and so…"

"No." Curry stated adamantly. "I'm not putting that onto Heyes. He didn't 'manipulate' me into anything! We were—we are equal partners! We're in it together!"

Granger sighed. "Your partner is already in prison Mr. Curry. There is no need for you to feel that you have to protect him now."

"I don't care where he is!" Curry answered, starting to get angry. "I'm not going to say things about him that isn't true just to save my own neck!"

"Alright. We won't go that way." Granger assured him. "I'm just throwing out suggestions Mr. Curry; if you're not comfortable with them I won't force them on to you."

"Oh. Okay, fine." Curry relaxed and went back to his supper.

"I received a telegram from Mr. McCreedy the other day." Granger informed his client. "He was quite adamant in his opinion of the legal system after Mr. Heyes' verdict had been announced. He is apparently all set to launch an attack on the Governor's office in protest of the whole situation." Then he smiled as a thought occurred to him. "Perhaps I should get the Jordan ladies in touch with him—that could be interesting."

Curry smiled "Good ol' Uncle Mac!" He mused. "He's the last person we would have expected to come to our rescue."

"Just out of curiosity." Granger began. "I was under the impression that both you and your cousin had lost your entire families in the border wars. How is it you still have an uncle and a rich rancher uncle at that? And why didn't he take you in when you were orphaned?"

Curry almost choked on his potatoes.

"Ahhh, I'm sorry Mr. Granger." Curry said, trying to hide his chuckle, but not having much success. "Ahhh, Big Mac isn't actually our uncle. That was just our cover story when the local sheriff got too close to figuring out who we were." Then Curry gave up the struggle and laughed out loud. "And old Mac, he liked to play it for all it was worth, I'll tell ya! He's not a rich rancher for nothing!"

"Oh, I see." Granger answered. "So is he really on your side?"

Curry went serious again. "Yeah, I guess so." He admitted. "Uncle Mac could' a turned us in more than once and he didn't. Threatened to often enough though!"

"Hmmm. Well, if he's that powerful a person he just might be what we need." Granger surmised. "Even though he's not residing in this territory, a rich rancher like him could have far reaching influence."

"You never said a truer word, Mr. Granger." Curry agreed with a smile.

Then Betsy showed up with more coffee and cleared away the empty plates. It seems that everyone had appreciated the steaks!

"Oh!" Curry remembered with a start. "Is there any way I could get a copy of the daily papers from the last couple of days? I'd really like to read what they're say'n about Heyes."

"Oh. Ahhh." Mr. Granger was at a loss. He knew he didn't have any copies of them.

"Yeah, we got at least a weeks' worth over at the jail." Rick put in. "I know the one that you'd be interested in is there as long as Morrison didn't see it and throw it away. I'll take a look when we get back. Hour's almost up anyways."

Just then the apple pies arrived.

Curry smiled over at Rick. "Time for dessert?"

"Always time for dessert!"

A few hours later, Curry was sitting on his cot, reading the newspaper articles from the last few days. He had to admit that the stories were convincing and he could definitely recognize Bridget's handiwork in the phrasing and sentiment. This could get interesting.

As he was reading one of the last articles on his partner, Curry heard the block door unlock and open and looked up to see Turner and David coming into the block. Jed smiled, happy to see his friend again as it had been nagging in the back of his mind that the doctor had not been round to see him and that wasn't normal. When David was in town he always came by to check up on Jed in the early evening so for him to not show up was cause for concern.

Turner unlocked the cell door and let David in and then clanged it shut and left, leaving the two men alone as usual. David lingered up by the door and leaned back against the bars, looking at the prisoner. Jed felt uncomfortable with the scrutiny, not quite sure what was going on.

"What?" He finally asked.

"Nothing."

"No, not nothin'." Jed countered, reminiscent of discussions with his partner. "Something's wrong, what is it?"

"It's just something Morrison said." David admitted. "It doesn't matter."

"Well, don't believe him." Jed advised.

"What do you mean?" David asked him. "You don't even know what he said."

"Yeah, but I know that what he said has you upset." Jed reasoned. "And that man has no right to run anybody else down, that's for sure."

David smiled. "Yeah, I suppose you're right." He agreed. "Still, I'm thinking I might head home on the afternoon train tomorrow. I'm feeling a little superfluous here."

"Sir—what?" Asked the Kid.

"Ahhh, redundant." David explained. "Not really needed."

"Well why don't you just say 'redundant' then?" Asked Kid a little irritated. "Don't go turning into another Heyes on me!"

"Sorry." David half-heartedly apologized. "Anyway, we can't do any exercises with your shoulder now, not until the collar bone heals, and you don't need me for that, so I thought I would just head home."

"Oh." Jed answered, feeling disappointed. "I was kinda hoping you would stay."

"Why?" David asked. "I'll leave you enough morphine to see you through, so long as you go easy on it. And Dr. Jackson can help you out with anything else you may need. There's no reason for me to be here."

"Yeah, but…" Jed hesitated, setting the newspapers aside. "Both Lom and Jesse have gone home; I was just hoping you'd stay is all."

"I'm sure you'll be kept busy with Mr. Granger, and you have Rick here." David pointed out. "They'll stand by you."

"Yeah, but they're hardly my friends David." Jed pointed out. "Granger's my lawyer and Rick is, well a friendly official is the best way to describe him."

"And I'm just your friendly doctor."

Jed sat quietly for a moment; he was feeling a little hurt.

"I thought we were more than….." He began, but felt awkward. "I just thought…well…" Then realization dawned. "Is that what Morrison said to you?"

"What?"

"That you're just my doctor and nothing more?" Jed elaborated.

"Well…"

"Ahhh Jeez, David!" Jed admonished him. "Don't listen to that blow-hard, he's never had a real friend in his life!"

David smiled, surprised at how relieved he felt. "Yeah, I suppose you're right." He conceded. "I guess I could stay a little longer. Still, I really should get home for awhile and then, if you want, I can come back with Jesse for your trial. It'll be interesting to see if the girls convince him to bring both of them along this time."

Jed smiled with the beginnings of that sentence, but then the smile dropped from his face as David completed that thought. The latter part just wasn't funny as far as he was concerned.

"Ohhh, David." He said. "I don't think the girls should come. Please, tell Jesse I don't want the girls to come."

"Why not?" David asked him. "Bridget handled things alright with Hannibal's trial."

"Yeah, but…Granger keeps insinuating that he's going to put me on the stand and…well…. if I have to go back to that day….I just think those girls are too young to hear about that."

"Could it possibly be any worse than what Hannibal described?"

"I don't know." Jed admitted. "I don't know what Hannibal described. I just don't think that little girls should hear this stuff."

David sighed, and then smiled at his friend. "You seem to be making the same mistake that Jesse makes." He said. "With Jesse, I can understand it; he's their father. But you? Surely you can see that they are not little girls anymore. Two of Bridget's friends are married and have started families of their own and a friend of Beth's is betrothed and will be getting married next spring. They are both young women—adults in their own right."

"Oh David." Said Jed. "You have no idea how dangerous it is for me to think of Beth as a young woman. She has got to remain a little girl in my mind."

"But why?" David asked, confused. "She's about as grown up as….." And then he noticed Jed looking very embarrassed and signs of a guilty conscience began to show themselves. "Ohhhh."

"David! Wipe that grin off your face!" Jed demanded. "This is not funny!"

"Well what's wrong?" David asked, still grinning. "Beth is an attractive young woman, and she is obviously very fond of you."

"'Young' is the key word David! She's too young! It's terrifying!"

"Yes." David conceded. "Love can be terrifying."

"Don't say that word!" Jed insisted. He was up off the cot now and very agitated. How could one possibly sit still during this conversation?!

"Oh Jed, come on." David tried to get serious, but he was having a hard time with it. "Many men take wives who are much younger than they are. Jesse and Belle are a prime example of that and look at what a good marriage they have."

"That's different!" Jed insisted.

"Why?"

"Jesse had something to offer!" Jed explained. "What can I give to Beth as a husband and a father…?" And then Jed suddenly turned pale and he realized what he had just said. "Oh my God! A father?! Oh no no no. No, she can do a lot better than me. I have nothing to offer her! Besides, I'm going to prison! Yes! Twenty years more than likely! What kind of a marriage is that!? NO! She'll find someone else, someone more worthy of her!

On top of that Jesse would skin me alive if anything happened! And, you know, I need to watch Heyes' back! He just can't stay out of trouble when he's left on his own, especially in prison; I can see him getting into all sorts of trouble without me there to watch out for him! See? Beth doesn't need me; she won't have any trouble finding someone else!"

David continued to lean against the bars, watching his friend pace back and forth becoming more and more agitated as he argued vehemently with no one but himself. Finally Jed realized that he was the only one talking and he stopped pacing and looked over at the man leaning against the bars. Unfortunately the doctor was still smiling apparently not taking the outlaw too seriously at all.

Jed sighed and his shoulder's slumped.

"Just tell Jesse I would prefer it if he didn't bring the girls to the trial." Said Jed. "At least not to that part of it. Okay?"

David nodded. "Yeah, okay Jed. I'll tell him."

Frances Warren was a relatively new governor for the Territory of Wyoming and was still in the process of getting caught up on all the back issues and endless paperwork left behind by his predecessor. Having been a politician for some time he was of course well aware of the inner dealings of a governmental office, but some of the issues brought to his attention by his assistant were of a most unusual nature.

One extreme case in point was the deal made between the Governor's Office and those two rather notorious outlaws, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. Mr. Warren shook his head in disbelief upon reading the details of this on-going situation and could not understand why his predecessor—numerous times removed—would have agreed to such an outlandish arrangement.

He did note that though the one year trial period had long since passed, none of the succeeding governors had felt incline to honour the arrangement, preferring to simply pass the buck on to the next in line. And here it sat, staring up at the new man in charge, expecting him to deal with it. He just shook his head again in disbelief, and with no intentions of honouring the agreement himself, he pushed the paperwork away to the 'non-pressing' pile and continued on to more important issues.

Mr. Warren did eventually have the pleasure (?) of meeting Lom Trevors, the Sheriff who had originally brokered the amnesty deal with Governor Hoyt, and though he found the man reasonable enough to deal with he did seem to be living a bit of a pipe dream. The Governor did all the right things that a new administrator needed to do; he shook hands with the Sheriff, smiled politely, and offered a drink. He even spoke all the proper placating noises that would put the Sheriff at his ease, and then showed him out the door, rolled his eyes and got on with more important matters.

Some months flew by without anything more being said about the amnesty situation, until 'one day' the headline news that Heyes and Curry had finally been captured and, more importantly, would finally actually make it to trial this time, reached the Governor's office. At first Mr. Warren felt a sense of dread; that now he was going to have to deal with these two miscreants and that could very well cost him his office. He had put a lot of effort into developing good relations with the head people of the banking and railroad industries and pardoning Heyes and Curry would simply throw all that hard work away.

Then after some careful consideration of the matter, it occurred to the Governor that all he really had to do was ignore the situation and chances were very good it would just take care of itself. After all, who in their right minds would believe that the Governor of Wyoming would actually offer Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry an amnesty? I mean, for goodness sakes, let's get serious here!

Chances were pretty close to guaranteed that both those outlaws would be found guilty and sentenced to numerous years in the territorial prison, certainly for far longer than Mr. Warren's stay in office was likely going to be. Problem solved. If the next Governor in line decided to pardon them out of prison early—so be it. But at least Mr. Warren's tenure would be secured.

So, when it came to pass that the inevitable Sheriff Lom Trevors came calling, it was a very easy matter to simply shut him out. Sooner or later even that man must surely get the hint that no assistance was to be forthcoming from the Governor's Office.

Eventually word came that Mr. Heyes had indeed stood trial in Cheyenne Wyoming and been sentenced to—'twenty years to life'? Oh my goodness, that was even better than what that political personage had dared hope for! There wasn't going to be any further problems from that quarter. One down and one to go!

Even when, a few days after the Heyes trial, Mr. Warren's assistant delivered to the Governor a number of newspapers from a number of towns which were all suggesting that Mr. Heyes had not been treated 'fairly', he saw no reason to become concerned. After a highly publicized trial such as that one had been, there were always going to be some misguided grumblings. When you can't please everyone, please the ones who mattered.

However, Mr. Warren's flippant attitude began to show signs of distress when that same assistant began delivering letters and telegrams that also stated similar sentiments of unfairness and—yikes!—broken promises! It was even worse when it became apparent that not all the correspondences' were from Wyoming, indeed a number of them were from other territories and states, even as far away as Texas and New Mexico! What was going on? Surely those two ruffians couldn't be this important!

Then, to make things worse, while sitting at his desk and trying to work around the piles of newspapers, letters and telegrams which were still coming in on a daily basis, Governor Warren got word that some of his more powerful supporters were wanting a meeting with him. Sooner rather than later. It did not take a genius to figure out what was on their minds.

"Surely you're not intending on giving Kid Curry an amnesty?!" Was the most prominent concern coming from the head of one of the larger railroads.

"At least Hannibal Heyes is finally behind bars, but he was only half the problem." Stated the Banking Commissioner. "If you know what's good for this territory (In other words; what's good for the governor himself) you'll make sure that the other half of that problem get's taken care of in a similar manner!"

Indeed, Governor Warren was finding himself between a rock and a hard place. His wealthy supporters were insisting that he stick to his guns and finally dispense with the double edged thorn that had been in their sides for the last fifteen years. Then on the other side of it, the 'common man, and apparently woman as well' were putting extreme pressure on him to keep the promises made by his office! Now the business men were fewer in number, but they had the big bucks to throw at the office, whereas the common citizenry may not have the money (aside from a few notable exceptions) but they definitely had the votes! What was the Governor to do?

'Yes.' Governor Warren decided to himself. 'It was definitely time to do something drastic about this situation. Something that would settle the matter once and for all.'

"Mr. Higgins?" Governor Warren called to his assistant. "When is Mr. Curry's trial due to begin?"

"Next week Monday, sir."

Mr. Warren settled back in his chair with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Good."

TO BE CONTINUED


	11. Chapter 11

PRISON LIFE

As Hannibal Heyes was finally beginning to regain consciousness the first thing he was aware of was the painful thumping radiating from behind his left eye. The second thing was that the very same eye was so swollen and puffy that he couldn't even open it and he didn't even want to consider what it must be looking like from the other side. Even the top of his head was hurting! What was that from? Oh yeah, the bottom of Mike's chin.

As the remembrance of what had happened returned to him so also did a sense of guilt. He knew he'd hurt Mike pretty badly and the big deputy hadn't deserved that. Heyes had overreacted again and he didn't blame Mike at all for the consequential retaliation. He hoped the fellow would be alright and not hold a grudge for too long. It's not good to have someone that big be mad at you.

Heyes didn't even want to open his eyes (eye) and indeed had not moved a muscle since awareness started to return to him. He knew he was sitting in the prison coach, leaning against the front and side paneling, his hands and ankles shackled by chains running through a metal ring imbedded in the floor. His head was pounding and the jolting vibration of the wagon briskly making its way towards Laramie wasn't doing anything to help his situation.

He stayed quiet in that position for some time, not wanting to deal with the reality that was waiting out there just beyond his closed eyelids. 'Please, let's just stay inside for a while longer.' He told himself. 'Just a little while longer.' Then someone coughed, someone quite close to him and it startled him to the point where his one good eye opened unbidden and reality stared him in the face.

Still not moving, he looked over and met the gaze of a guard sitting directly across from him. He had a rifle placed strategically across his lap. A small half smirk played across his lips.

"Looks like our new resident is finally awake."

"Good." Responded a voice to Heyes' left, coming from the back of the coach. "We're getting close and I wasn't looking forward to having to carry him in."

The first guard's half smirk developed into a full smile.

Heyes finally shifted, gradually becoming aware of the stiffness in his back and shoulders from having been in the one awkward position for too long. He pushed himself up straighter and sent a glance down to the second guard. He was much like the first. Heyes tried to produce a semblance of a smile.

"Gentlemen." He murmured by way of greeting.

"Howdy Heyes." The first guard responded. "Enjoy your little beauty nap? That's some shiner you got there—you ought to fit in to prison life real well."

Heyes meekly responded with a subtle nod and then giving up all effort at communication, closed his eye and awaited the inevitable. In some ways this trip seemed surreal to the convicted man, but in other ways it almost seemed pre-destined, as though no matter what he did or how hard he tried to avoid it, he was going to end up in prison. The harder he fought against it, the faster he raced towards it. And here he was, chained hand and foot inside the barred and armored prison coach with two large guards to keep him company; crossing over the threshold between freedom and misery, silently cursing the promises made that had led him to this.

Finally, but way too soon Heyes heard the driver of the coach call out to the horses to 'whoa' and the vehicle came to a halt. Within seconds the sound of a key in the locks of the rear door could be heard and then that same door was swung open. The guard sitting across from Heyes got up and released the chains from the ring in the floor. He grabbed Heyes by the arm and pulled him to his feet, then shuffled him towards the open door. The second guard had already stepped down out of the coach and had turned to await the prisoner.

Heyes' one good eye was blinking in the bright autumn sunshine as he gazed out the back of the coach, trying to get his bearings. There were a number of guards out there, all waiting for him to disembark. He wondered just what it was they thought he was going to do, trussed up hand and foot the way he was. Still, he surmised, it would probably be worth their jobs if a prisoner of his caliber got loose on them, so they were all making sure that Hannibal Heyes didn't get a chance to go anywhere he wasn't suppose to.

With his feet still in the leg irons, Heyes couldn't actually step down out of the coach, so he did what was expected of him, and he jumped. Two of the guards already on the ground grabbed him as he landed and then hustled him off towards one of the doorways of the nearby building.

Heyes looked around as best he could at his new residence, and even in bright sunshine, he couldn't remember a drearier looking place, or maybe that was just his mood seeping through. Doors were opened and then clanged shut as the guards continued to shuffle him along down the corridors. And with every lock that snapped into place behind him Heyes felt his heart and his soul sinking deeper and deeper into oblivion. Even the atmosphere, the very air he breathed was filled with oppression.

Finally he was taken into a small office where there was a desk and one chair for furniture, and another door in the far wall but nothing else. Heyes was positioned to stand in front of the desk, and there he waited with an armed guard on either side of him and one behind him. After about ten minutes the second door opened and a middle aged man in a suit stepped into the room and without acknowledging the prisoner went over and sat down at the desk, reading some paperwork he'd brought in with him.

Another ten minutes ticked by and then Heyes sighed with the frustration of standing there, waiting for—whatever—to start happening. Instantly a rifle butt clipped the back of his right knee and his leg very neatly collapsed out from under him. He went down in a sudden clattering heap. He stayed where he'd landed, surprised by the suddenness of the retribution until hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet again.

Heyes was expecting some type of explanation such as; 'Well that was your first lesson.' Etc. etc., but nothing was forthcoming. The guards continued to stand placidly around him and the man sitting at the desk didn't even look up but continued to scrutinize the documents in front of him.

Another fifteen minutes dragged by with the only sound being the paper rustling whenever the 'suit' turned over another page. Heyes stood silently, not making a sound, not moving a muscle. His eye hurt, his head was pounding. He was beginning to feel cold, but he didn't move. He'd play the game until he figured out what the rules were.

Finally the 'suit' finished reading the documents, shuffled them into a neat pile and then stood up, looking the prisoner directly in the eye (no pun intended).

"So, Mr. Heyes. I'm Warden Mitchell." The suit introduced himself. "I was beginning to think that we would never be honoured by your presence here in Laramie. That's quite a shiner you have there but I strongly advise that you cease the behavior that caused you to earn it. That will not be tolerated here and you will find that punishment for breaking the rules will be far more unpleasant than a mere black eye."

"Well, I'll certainly…."

Another quick clip, this time behind the left knee and Heyes went down again. This was already beginning to get old. Hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. He just stood there, trying not to let his irritation show through as he might just end up getting clipped for that too.

"You'll learn the rules quickly enough." The Warden continued without skipping a beat. "For what's left of today we'll just let you get settled in and then tomorrow you can start your duties. Welcome to the Wyoming Territorial Prison Mr. Heyes."

The first thing they did was take his photograph. Heyes again felt a sense of pre-destiny at this minor undertaking. Here he was sentenced to twenty years because he wouldn't name Clementine Hale as an accomplice in a job that she had blackmailed them into doing by using the one and only photograph in existence of him and Kid as the incentive for their co-operation. And now the law was casually snapping away to get his likeness in print as though it would actually make any kind of a difference. He sighed at the irony of it all.

The next thing they did was down right heartbreaking; they shaved his head. Sitting there helplessly watching the dark brown locks fall to the floor was bad enough, but the barber didn't even take care over the bruising—it hurt! Welcome to prison life indeed.

After that he was taken to a small room with a drain in the center of the floor. His shackles were removed and then he was told in no uncertain terms to strip. He accomplished this without any hesitation or embarrassment. His mind simply blocked out those emotions as having no place in this new life. He was going to have to re-invent himself, re-establish the ground rules. The old life that he had known was gone and with it a very small part of Hannibal Heyes went into hiding and wasn't seen or heard from again for many a long year.

Buckets of cold water were thrown over his naked body and he was tossed a bar of rough soap with instructions to scrub down from top to bottom. He completed this task without complaint and then he was doused again with more cold water until all the soap had been rinsed away. Next he was tossed a rough towel and, shivering, he quickly dried himself off in the hopes that he might warm up—he didn't.

Then, hugging his torso and still shivering he was bustled into an adjoining alcove where he spied a pile of clothing and a pair of shoes. The clothing consisted of a pair of long johns and a henley (thank goodness), socks and a pull over shirt and trousers made of a course striped material that didn't look too comfortable but would at least be warm.

Once he was dressed his guards then moved him along through another (or was it the same?) corridor and then stopped briefly at a room that obviously stored supplies. A trustee handed him a thin pillow and a blanket.

"Can you read?" The man asked him.

"What?" Heyes was taken by surprise by that question.

"Can you read and write? Are you literate?"

"Yes."

The trustee nodded and then plunked a thin stack of writing paper on top of his pillow, along with a pencil and two candles. That done he closed the supply room door and disappeared, apparently to carry on with his other duties.

One of the guards, whom Heyes would later come to know as Kenny Reece, started giving him the rundown.

"There's a small library as such down by the chapel." Kenny informed the new inmate. "After supper you can chose one book. When you have finished that one you can chose another. Any infringement of the rules and this privilege will be taken away. Do you understand?'

"Yes."

"You will not speak to any of the other inmates unless you are giving or receiving instruction." Kenny continued. "You will only speak to a guard if you are asked a direct question. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"The guards are always right. Do you understand?"

Heyes hesitated and he looked this guard directly in the eye. The look that came back to him was challenging, just daring the inmate to contradict. Pick your battles, Heyes told himself.

"Yes."

Heyes' first introduction to his cell was terrifying. There were three levels in the cell block; everything was concrete and steel, cold and intimidating. He was shuffled up three flights of steps where the only thing between him and a drop down to the open work area was a thin metal railing and he tried to keep to the wall side of the stairway just for that little bit of added security. The cells were all in a line along the metal and concrete isle way but that was where any resemblance between these cells and the opened barred ones in a jailhouse ended. These ones were closed in completely on three sides so that even though you had neighbours, you would not be able to see or communicate with them. The front of the cell was half solid metal and only the door itself was barred and allowed the prisoner some view out into the corridor.

Heyes felt claustrophobic even before he was pushed inside one of these shoe boxes and the sound of the door clanging shut behind him almost sent him into a panic. It was so small! He stood where he was for a full ten minutes, feeling that if he dared to move he'd just explode. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Calm down. If this was going to be home, better embrace it

He forced himself to relax and then began to take in what little there was to offer in this 'cozy' accommodation. A small cot was to his right and he noted how thin the mattress was. There was also a small table, but no chair—supposedly you were to just sit on the cot. He also came to realize very quickly that these two items of furniture were bolted down so there was no re-arranging anything. Of course the cell was so small there was no point in trying to re-arrange anything anyways. Pacing was going to be a challenge. He also spotted a wooden bucket under the table; this he assumed was the chamber pot.

Heavy sigh. Finally he moved over to the cot and sat down on it, still holding the supplies that the trustee had given him. He stared ahead into space, or was it just a solid wall? And he felt every shred of happiness sink away and disappear out of sight. Curry, Jesse and Belle, the girls. Lom. They were gone, sliding further and further away as though they belonged to another dimension, another life—another Hannibal Heyes. He was alone.

The first couple of weeks had been difficult. Heyes fell into the routine of doing everything as a group. Everyone got up at the same time, everyone went to meals together and everyone went to work on the floor together. The only deviation from this was that the inmates could have their meals in the cafeteria with the group, or in their cells on their own. Then after supper they could spend the evenings doing what they wished so long as they didn't make any noise doing it and didn't break any of the rules. The other choice they had was whether or not to attend chapel on Sundays. Heyes felt that this was a worthwhile diversion and then when he discovered that the minister was a woman well that just made it all the more worthwhile.

The jobs he was given to do were menial and boring. Once he was taught the principles of 'how to make a broom' it just became a basic motor skill and most of his time during the day was spent in daydreaming and trying not to go mad. The hardest thing for him to accept was the 'no talking' rule. How can human beings be working and eating together day in and day out and not have conversation? He found himself having to bite his tongue on more than one occasion to prevent a word from slipping out and always made quite sure that what that guard had said was actually a 'direct question' before taking the chance of answering him. Of course if you didn't answer fast enough that was also an infringement of a rule.

Much to his surprise, that tiny cell that had at first filled him with such panic had quickly become his haven. It was the one place he could be where he did not have to be constantly on alert. He soon came to realize that some of the guards—one by the name of Floyd Carson in particular, would deliberately try to trip him up into breaking a rule. And it didn't take long for those guards to figure out that the best way to punish Hannibal Heyes was to take away his reading privileges. Yes, that first week Heyes had a real hard time getting through book number one. Especially with only one good eye!

The hardest part about learning the rules was that no one told him what they were, other than those first few that Kenny had mentioned to him. The only way to find out what was accepted and what wasn't was to break what was apparently a rule and then be punished for it. Seeing as how reading was very important to Heyes and was the only thing helping him to stay sane, he had incentive to learn the rules quickly, and he did.

By the end of his third week there he had read all the books that held any interest for him and even considered reading some that he was already familiar with so he was starting to get a little desperate for new reading material. He then remembered that day so, so long ago when he had first met David Gibson and how impressed he had been with the man's knowledge and abilities. Indeed, Heyes was convinced that no other doctor in the west could have saved Kid's life and for that he would be forever in the debt of the young medical man. But Heyes also remembered the intense curiosity he had felt over the doctor's technique and how it had lit a spark in his mind to learn more about it.

That spark had become dormant what with all the other stresses that he'd had to deal with since that day, but now his thoughts were going back to it again. But the question now was, 'how to get hold of medical journals'? He hadn't seen any in the library and he wasn't allowed to ask, so how would he be able to find out? The next day at work, the answer came to him.

It didn't take much really, a moment of 'inattention' and he had oh so inconveniently sliced open the palm of his left hand. Damn those dull knives they were forced to use to trim up the broom whisks. A fella had to apply so much pressure just to get them to cut through a few strands of that coarse straw that one slip and….ooops—off to the infirmary.

Kenny escorted Heyes down the corridors and into a separate building where the hospital was set up. It wasn't a particularly impressive medical facility but it served its purpose and on this day it served Heyes' purpose completely.

Kenny led Heyes into the main office/examination room where they found Dr. Morin busy writing up his paperwork. He glanced up when the men entered the room and seeing the blood dripping from the inmates hand quickly went over to the supply cabinet and pulled out a needle and some suturing thread from the opened drawer.

He motioned Heyes to have a seat at the table, then supporting Heyes' injured hand with a towel, had the inmate place the hand palm up on the table so the Doctor could have a closer look.

"Hmmm." Was his main comment. Heyes was sure he was getting a whiff of alcohol, and not the kind used for disinfecting either.

Then the doctor went back to his cabinet, grabbed a few more supplies and returned to his patient. He lifted up the injured hand and attached arm and placed a bowl underneath them, then pulling the stopper on a bottle of clear liquid, poured some of that liquid over the open wound. Heyes just about hit the ceiling.

"Jeezzz Doc!" Heyes expostulated. "A little warning would have been nice!" And then quickly flicked a glance over at Kenny expecting a reprimand for daring to speak. That personage showed very little concern over the blatant disregard for the rule at that moment and everyone just carried on with the matter at hand.

"Hmmm." Was again all the learned gent had to say.

Heyes furrowed his brow. This was turning into a very strange experience. Then the doctor sprinkled some powder on the wound and Heyes felt his hand start to go numb and the doctor prepared to stitch the cut together. Meanwhile Heyes was doing a quick scrutiny of the room to see if perhaps there might be some medical books lying around and was disappointed to find that there were none that he could see.

Then he decided to go for broke. Kenny hadn't done anything with Heyes' first breach of protocol so perhaps that rule didn't apply in the Doctor's office.

"Say Doc." Heyes began tentatively. "You wouldn't happen to have any medical journals or books lying around would you?"

"Hmmm." Was the response as the doctor began stitching. Then to Heyes' surprise and relief he elaborated. "Got plenty in the other room. Why? You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Oh, no no no!" Heyes was quick to deny that charge. "No. I was just wondering if you would loan me a few to read. I find it fascinating, especially resuscitation techniques and the like. Want to learn more about it."

"You'd probably find medical journals a little bit beyond you." The Doctor presumed. "Why don't you just check out the library? There are plenty of dime novels over there."

Heyes smiled, beginning to feel a little frustrated. "Ahhh, well…."

"This is Hannibal Heyes, Doc." Kenny suddenly put in. Heyes looked over at him, surprised.

The Doc looked up at Heyes, surprised. "Ohh!" He exclaimed. "Well, in that case, I'm sure we can find something over there to get you started. Resuscitation techniques eh?"

Heyes smiled broadly. "Yeah. To begin with."

"Okay." Doc agreed. "I can think of a couple off-hand that you can borrow right now and then when you're done with them, just bring them back and I'll give some others."

"That'd be great Doc, thanks." Heyes responded. "But, ah, how do I get back over here? I don't really feel inclined to be slicing myself every time I need a new book."

The Doc had finished with the stitching and was just beginning to wrap the hand in gauze as he looked over at Kenny.

"How about it Ken?" He suggested. "You think if Heyes here let you know he wanted to see me you could find a way to bring him over?"

"Sure." Kenny agreed. "I don't think that will be a problem."

Heyes smiled over at the guard. Just goes to show that sometimes first impressions can be misleading. Heyes hoped that maybe he had himself an ally in this God forsaken place.

Heading back over to the cell block, his left hand neatly stitched and wrapped in gauze and his arms supporting a stack of new reading material, Heyes actually had something close to a smile on his face.

Ken glanced over at him, the corners of his mouth tipping up just a hint.

"Why do I get the feeling that wasn't an accident?" He commented.

Heyes discerned that this was not a direct question and declined to answer.

The social dynamics inside the prison walls really weren't that different from any other cloistered group. Amongst the guards it was easy to find the full range of the human condition, from the most arrogant individuals all the way down to the cowardly. Unfortunately both extremes generally encouraged abusive behavior and both those personality types had to be watched carefully.

The most dominant and abusive of the guards was of course, Floyd Carson. He really did take perverse pleasure in setting an inmate up to fail and then punishing him for simply trying to comply in the first place. Standing up to him in any way almost always resulted in a day in the 'dark cell' and there was nothing fun about that. Heyes had ended up there a couple of times during his first month, once for fighting and the second for talking back and if there was ever a place where one's darker imaginings could run wild—that was it.

Below Floyd in the pecking order were three or four of his cronies, men who liked to be in control over others but didn't have Carson's intelligence or leadership abilities to be in charge. So they were happy to follow Carson's lead and to back him up if any of the inmates got too 'uppity'. On their own they were easy enough to handle, but get them coming at you in a group and—look out! Corporal punishment (aside from use of the bully club) was not generally approved of by the warden, the thinking being that a removal of privileges or time in the dark cell generally got the desired results. However, the warden was very rarely on the floor and since Carson was pretty much in charge throughout the day, well let's just say that 'things' happened.

Of the other guards well, most of them just needed a good job. They came to work, put in their shifts and then went home and hopefully nobody got hurt. At first Heyes had put Kenny Reece in this category, but the longer Heyes was there and the more he was able to differentiate between the various guards, the more Kenny Reece stood out as a man apart.

It's not that he was a saint or anything even remotely similar. He knew his job and what was expected of him. You didn't cross him, that was for sure as his retaliation and punishment would be divvied out just as swiftly and severely as anything that Carson would deliver. But whereas Carson did it for pleasure, Reece did it for discipline and he was fair. If Kenny Reece got you with the bully club or sent you for a day in the dark cell, chances are you deserved it.

He'd gotten Heyes a couple of times with the club for being mouthy and though at first Heyes resented the assault he would later realize that the bruise he received wasn't that bad and that he probably had been asking for it anyways. He knew the rules by then, but he'd just get so bullheaded sometimes he'd chose to ignore them. If Kenny had let him get away with it, well then, Heyes would have been running the show and that wasn't going to happen.

Kenny also kept his word. When Heyes had finished the first two books that the Doc had loaned him all it took was a raised eyebrow and a subtle nod and the guard showed up at Heyes' cell after supper that evening and escorted him over to the infirmary. The first couple of visits were easy to cover as the Doc wanted to see the inmate anyways in order to remove stitches and then later again just to check on the healing. He was also checking on the injured eye, just to be sure that it was healing alright. It didn't take long for the swelling and bruising to start to fade, but even after all else had healed up the evidence of broken blood vessels would remain apparent for a long time to come. Still, it made for a convenient excuse to visit the infirmary. After that it became a bit trickier, but somehow Kenny always managed to get Heyes over there with no questions asked and Heyes was getting quite an extensive education.

There was also a very strong pecking order amongst the inmates. Again, just as in any social structure there was the dominant all the way down to the submissive and it didn't take long to work out just who was where. The work floor was very much akin to a large pen containing a pack of wolves and if the guards weren't there to keep things 'civil' it's a sure bet that dog fights would have been breaking out all over the place. Speaking of course was not allowed, but it was amazing how much communication could be conveyed through simple body language. It was a true art form and very effective.

Hank Boeman was the alpha wolf and he looked every bit the part. He wasn't exceptionally big, but he had a meanness to him that was very apparent and one look at any of the underlings and they'd scamper out of his way double time. Kenny and Floyd were about the only guards who would stand up to him on their own, the others making sure they had back up first. Yes, ole' Hank truly thought he was in a position of power, choosing to ignore the fact that he was still a prisoner and had spent many a day in the dark cell himself.

Hank's first encounter with Heyes had been anticlimactic to say the least. Again, despite the fact that no talking was permitted, the information still found a way to get around that the new inmate was indeed Hannibal Heyes. As to be expected Heyes' reputation came right along with him and Hank Boeman assumed that he and the outlaw leader would be knocking horns over the alpha wolf position before too much time had elapsed.

Much to Hanks surprise and probable disappointment, Heyes had no interest in being the alpha wolf over this sorry pack of miscreants and declined all of Boeman's challenges. Heyes' body language and eye contact or lack thereof did not so much indicate submission as it did condescension and this attitude tended to tick Hank off more than anything else. It was as though Heyes were saying that what Hank had wasn't worth the great outlaws' acknowledgment or desire and therefore Hank was simply being permitted to carry on as before.

Hank would silently bluster and strut and try to set up a confrontation, but his mind was no where near as devious as Heyes' and Heyes would see the 'bushwhack' coming long before the trap was sprung. He would simply avoid it and carry on with his duties, or retire to his cell to read. Not surprisingly he had definitely made himself an enemy and he knew it.

Time slowly ticked by and always in the back of Heyes' mind was worry over his partner's upcoming trial. Most of his conscious mind was hoping that Kid would get off somehow, that whatever their friends were up to in order to put pressure on the Governor might just bring about Curry's pardon. But another part of Heyes missed his partner a great deal and though he wouldn't wish this place on his worst enemy (well, Fletcher maybe) he was ashamed to say that he was wishing it on his best friend.

Heyes felt so alone here, so—unprotected. If Curry got the same sentence then at least they would be together and could watch each other's backs. Together maybe they could just make it through, maybe even get early pardons, why not? Stranger things have happened. Then Heyes would feel ashamed of himself for wanting his friend here for purely selfish reasons and would push those thoughts down and out of sight.

If Curry got off then he would be working tirelessly to get Heyes out of here, there was no doubt about that. So really, logically, it would be better all around if Kid Curry remained on the outside because out there he would have a lot more power and a lot more influence than if he ended up struck behind these bars.

Then fear and loneliness would clutch at Heyes' heart as he'd lay on his cot in his cell at night and stare up at a ceiling he couldn't see—and he'd worry. He just didn't think he could do this alone. He was trying to find a way to settle in, but he was already feeling strangled by the forced confinement—he was suffocating. He would remember what Jesse said about it only being that way because he told himself it was that way. Change your way of thinking you can change your life. Repeatedly telling yourself that you're going to die in this place and chances are good that you will.

Heyes sighed. How does one change the way your mind works? Goodness knows Heyes had been trying to do that most of his life—trying to get it to shut down, to turn off, to let him get some sleep but it wouldn't listen! If he couldn't even do that, how was he supposed to get his mind to change its view of his whole world? Heyes rolled over onto his side and hugged his knees to his chest. He stared into the blackness and saw death waiting there.

One of the hardest things Heyes had to endure, not only while in prison, but throughout the whole of his life, was the dark cell. He was still relatively new to the system when an altercation developed between himself and one of the other prisoners; something about the best way to make a candle—or something. In any case frustration at his situation erupted into a fist fight and Kenny had to get in a good couple of whacks with the bully club to break it up and bring Heyes to his knees.

Forty-eight hours in the dark cell was like an eternity of night fears. Every worry, every problem every phobia that had ever haunted one's dreams came calling. During those long silent hours huddled in a corner in the pitch black everything that couldn't be seen brought terror to the heart and despair to the soul.

Heyes lost sight of who he was in the dark cell. Images of rats scurrying around him and snakes slithering by made him jump and tremble at the slightest mind rustle of fantasy. He tried again to control where his mind was taking him, what his thoughts would be. He would close his eyes and try to relax, try to push away the terrors as simple imaginings that had nothing to do with the reality of what was in the cell with him.

Nothing was in the cell with him! He was in there alone, just him; and then he would hear a scurrying or feel a light brushing against his leg and the terrors would overwhelm him again. Spiders he came to realize were for sure in there with him, because the itchy bites he acquired while in the cell could not be caused by mere imaginings. He was afraid to fall asleep, thinking about what would be crawling over him in the dark. He would often push himself to his feet and walk the cell, trying to keep the terrors at bay and keeping his one hand touching the wall just to prevent his mind from free-falling into the abyss.

If he'd been a man of lesser intelligence and imagination he probably would have been able to handle this particular punishment a little easier. Boeman certainly didn't seem to have much of a problem with it. But as we already know, Heyes could not turn his mind off and in this particular situation he couldn't even slow it down. In the silent darkness time and structure and sense of self disappeared. The only thing he had to help him hold on to that awareness of 'self' was his mind, and it ran him ragged.

When he was finally permitted back out in to the light of day all he could remember about the dark cell is that it was the worse experience he'd ever been through. So much so that the second time he realized that his bullheadedness was sending him there again; he actually fought the guards and had to be beaten near to unconsciousness before they were able to subdue him and drag him back inside.

The terrors of that punishment never left Hannibal Heyes and he continued to experience nightmares of that unholy place right up until the day he died.

Fortunately not all was darkness and misery at the prison. The weekends did offer some reprieve from the mundane and tedious work days. Saturdays, visitors were allowed to come calling. New inmates weren't allowed visitors for the first three months, the reason being given; that they needed that much time to settle in. More likely, it was to give the bruises sustained while 'learning' the rules time to heal up; no need to get friends and loved-ones upset over nothing. Still, it was something for Heyes to look forward to and he hoped that someone—anyone—would actually come calling.

Mail call was also on Saturdays. Mail was sorted, inspected and then placed in the cell of the recipient during the afternoon of that day. Again though, dominance prevailed. Often if an inmate received something of value, like a warm jacket or a pair of socks, one of the guards would help himself to it before it even came close to a prisoner's cell. It was times like that, that having a guard who was willing to watch out for you really did come in handy. But stolen property aside, receiving a letter from the outside often was the lifeline that would keep an inmate holding on from one week to the next. It gave hope.

Heyes would never forget the leap his heart took when one Saturday afternoon he returned to his cell after supper to find a letter on his cot addressed to HIM. Actually it was originally addressed to Joshua Smith, then that name had been crossed out and Hannibal Heyes took its place. The letter itself however began with 'Dearest Joshua…' and what a joy it was for him to be reminded that there were still people out there who thought about him and cared about him and were not going to 'just sit back and forget about you.'! He began to look forward to Saturdays.

There was also the Sunday service in the chapel, and though Heyes wasn't normally a church going man he found himself looking forward to the sermons and that they helped to brighten his day. He was surprised to discover that as mentioned before, one of the main speakers in the prison chapel was a woman and just being able to go and listen to a woman's voice speaking passionately about reformation and forgiveness and God's love filled him with a peace that her male equivalent could never hope to come close to.

Even as a child, going to services with his parents he hadn't been one to believe in the Hell and Brimstone threats that were divvied out for misconduct so that type of sermon did little to catch his attention. Then when the religious teachings at Valparaiso tried to hammer home the same brutal message, the young Hannibal had rebelled against it all the more. But the young lady who came most Sundays to deliver her message never went in that direction. All her sermons were of happiness and hope and love for your fellows and they were indeed like a ray of sunshine in that bleak and bitter existence that was the lot of a convict.

Also, once a week, usually on a Saturday or a Sunday after services, the inmates who were on good behaviour were allowed a certain amount of time outside in the prison yard. Heyes, along with most of the other prisoners greatly anticipated this privilege and it was added incentive to stay out of trouble as the weekend approached.

Even though the days were getting colder, Heyes would take as much of the time outside as he could and he would keep himself warm by briskly walking the perimeter and keeping his arms moving. Guards were still in attendance during these outings and four were stationed high up in the corner towers of the yard where they could oversee everything and everyone. Even so, it became the only time during the week that Heyes felt the claustrophobia ease off his spirit even if just for a short time. These outings had become precious to him.

But then one Sunday, something happened that marred the experience for him for a long time. After that day, walking outside in the cold with the sound of crunching frost rimmed leaves under his feet would bring with it a sadness that lingered long after he was back inside and warm again.

On this particular Sunday, it was, as suggested above, a bright sunny but cold autumn day. The leaves that had fallen inside the yard and had remained in the shadow of the tall prison walls throughout the day had not been given the opportunity to defrost so even by mid-afternoon they were still crunching under foot.

Heyes was doing his usual brisk walk and blowing on his hands to warm them up when he heard hurrying footsteps rustling up behind him. He turned quickly, expecting maybe Hank Boeman to be launching an attack, but instead was met with the young exuberant countenance of Harvey Konachy. Harvey couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old and he was an open faced, pleasant looking young fella who'd simply had the misfortune of falling into hard times.

Heyes had noticed him being depressed of late, actually if Heyes thought about it, in the four weeks that he'd been there he had never really seen Harvey smile. He went through his days in a trance, had his meals which he just picked at and then returned to his cell to brood. His eyes were dull and his manner hopeless as though he had indeed given up.

So it was with some surprise that when Heyes turned to see Harvey, he was met with a sparkle in the young man's eyes and a broad grin upon his face.

"Hey Heyes!" The young man greeted him happily. "I've just discovered something! You gotta watch this, okay?"

Heyes tensed and quickly did a scan of the numerous guards to see if any of them had overheard Harvey speaking to him. Even outside that was not allowed. But nothing changed, apparently nobody had noticed. Still, Heyes didn't want them to notice either and tried to motion to the young man to 'shut up!'

"No, listen Heyes!" Harvey continued excitedly, his eyes dancing. "I've found a way out of here!"

"What?!" Heyes couldn't help himself. "What do you man?" He whispered. "How?"

"Just watch me! I'll show you the way out!"

Then much to Heyes' astonishment Harvey turned and bounding across the yard like a young buck in rut he plowed full force into the back of Floyd Carson! The guard was plunged forward with a long line of curses trailing after him before his natural agility saved him from falling head first into the leaves. He regained his footing and turned, bringing his rifle round with him but by that time there was nobody there!

Harvey had continued on running, making a bee line straight towards the far parameter wall which surrounded the compound. Heyes couldn't believe what he was seeing! Not even hearing the shouting of the guards, he started to run forward, not really sure what exactly he could do, but thought that there must be something! Now everyone in the yard was alerted to the young man's run as he continued his dash and then made a wild leap up against the high wall and somehow, miraculously found something there to cling on to.

Heyes was never going to forget the sight of that young man almost spread eagle, clinging onto the side of that wall and then the sound of the rifles, like a Gatling gun sending a barrage of bullets into the young man's back. Harvey just hung there on the wall for what seemed like forever, but could only have been a couple of seconds, the bullet holes that had punctured him too numerous to count. In slow motion, it seemed, bright red blood flowed out of the wounds and spread across his shirt and then he was falling backwards and landed with a crunchy thud into the crisp autumn leaves.

Heyes just stood still with his mouth open. Suddenly he was in a bubble again and the Kid was in his arms and there was blood everywhere and Heyes couldn't stop the bleeding and Curry was holding onto him with desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry Heyes….I'm sorry." And then Heyes got shoved from behind and the bubble burst and one of the guards was using his rifle to push him forward towards the door leading back into the cell block.

Guards and inmates were yelling. Heyes heard more than one rifle report as the guards sot to regain order and control and everyone was bustled back into the work area and then up the stairs to the appropriate levels and then into their cells. Everything was in lockdown.

Heyes was pacing, agitated, his mind spinning. What was that?! How could Harvey have had any hope at all of getting over that wall?! But at the same time Heyes knew that Harvey hadn't planned on getting over the wall, he just planned on getting out—the only way he knew how.

The following morning the whole place was in a subdued spirit—even more so than usual. Heyes didn't even know what Harvey had been in for, or how much longer he would have had to go on his sentence. It kind of seemed irrelevant now, but still it nagged at him a little bit and he was feeling pretty down in the dumps himself. The work day dragged out even more than usual and after supper Heyes simply returned to his cell to try and focus on reading until he was tired enough to hopefully get some sleep.

He wasn't long at his book however when he felt the presence of someone at the open door of his cell. He looked up and saw that it was Carson. When their eyes met the guard beckoned him over and Heyes, feeling like this was the last person he felt like dealing with right now, none the less closed his book and approached his cell door. Heyes stood quietly, avoiding direct eye contact as that would be taken as a challenge and waited for whatever Carson had up his sleeve.

"Evening Heyes." Carson greeted him with just the hint of a smirk. "I hear your partner's not going to be joining you here after all."

Heyes was startled into locking eyes with the guard. His heart leapt! Did that mean that Curry had gotten his pardon? Was he a free man? Was he going to join the fight now to get Heyes OUTA HERE!?

"Yes siree!" Carson continued, obviously enjoying himself. "They done found Kid Curry guilty of cold blooded murder and at 11:00 this morning the law went and hanged him by the neck until he was dead. Hanged him Heyes, like the filthy, thieving—murdering gunslinger that he was!"

Then Carson started laughing, a loud raucous laughter that followed him as he disappeared from the doorway and continued on his way down the corridor

Heyes' whole body turned to ice! Then he gasped and staggered backwards as though Carson had just punched him in the stomach. He stood there for a good thirty seconds, his eyes staring straight ahead at nothing until his knees gave way beneath him and he went down hard, landing on his rump but he didn't feel a thing. Then suddenly his whole body heaved and he made a desperate grab for the wooden bucket and he began to retch.

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. Chapter 12

The Trial of Jedediah Curry.

Heyes hadn't slept a wink that night. It had never once occurred to him that the Kid might end up facing a murder charge and possibly be hanged as a consequence. He had assumed that Curry would be charged with the same crimes as Heyes himself had been—they were partners after all—and then either be joining Heyes in prison or getting his pardon and be freed. But the death penalty? That possibility had never occurred to him.

Once the shock of Carson's words had worn off, Heyes realized that the guard could just be playing a sadistic game with him, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Heyes remained cold with fear throughout the long night and despite the very logical workings of his mind telling him not to panic yet; it was all he could do to stay calm and focused.

He lay there throughout the night, again staring up at a ceiling he couldn't see and he worried and stressed and thought about all those things that he couldn't change and couldn't stop and berating himself for being so powerless. All those things that had happened anyways, despite his apparent genius, his brazen self-confidence and his downright audaciousness. The fates still had control.

He thought about his sister, how he had let her die a terrible death and had not even tried to save her. He hadn't even done her the honour of remembering her. Instead he had hidden her away, pushed her out of mind and memory; buried her and covered her over with an over-compensation of self-righteousness and arrogance. She'd be what? Twenty-four now…twenty-five? But she was gone, like the rest of his folks. He was the only surviving member of the Heyes family; indeed his mother had sacrificed her own life to give him a chance at survival and what had he done with it? He became an outlaw, and a convict—a looser. His mother would be so ashamed of him. So disappointed.

Now he was trapped, again in the power of forces beyond his control and his closest friend and partner was facing another life and death battle on his own. Again Heyes was powerless to help him. Maybe Carson was telling the truth and Kid Curry was already dead and Heyes hadn't even known it. Surely he would have felt something, surely he would have known if his cousin had died that previous morning. Wouldn't he know?

Somewhere in the bowels of that cold prison the bone chilling screams of one of the inmates in the throes of a nightmare rose up and echoed through the cell block. Tinglings of fear shivered down Heyes' spine. 'There but for the grace of God go I'. And Heyes knew that the grace of God may not be with him for much longer and it'll be him screaming into the night and slowly going mad.

Then the sound of banging reached his ears as the night guard whacked his bully stick against the offending inmate's cell door.

"Wake up Johnston!" Came the guard's voice. "You'll have the whole place in an uproar. Wake up!"

Then silence.

A chilly morning finally dawned, not that the inmates could see the dawn, just a gradual lightening of the innards of the prison told them morning was there. Of course the loud clanging of the bell and the harsh mechanical clunking of all the cell doors unlocking in unison was also a good indication that the new day had begun.

Everyone had to be up and standing at the door of their cell to await 'roll call' to make sure that nobody had actually died during the night. Then the silent procession down for breakfast—usually oatmeal and really, do you call that coffee? Heyes tried to eat, his stomach in a knot; this was not going to be a good day.

Half way through the morning, Heyes was trying to focus on the finer art of making a broom when he felt the presence of one of the guards standing beside him. He tensed, not sure who it was but knowing that he dare not look up.

"Don't listen to what Carson says to you." Heyes heard Kenny say quietly. "He likes to play mind games with the new prisoners. Wait until you hear officially. Personally, I have yet to hear the outcome of Curry's trial."

Once again Heyes was startled into breaking protocol and his head snapped up to meet Kenny's eyes. Then he jumped, startled as Kenny's bully club whacked down on the table barely an inch of where Heyes' hand was resting.

"Why are you looking at me Convict!?" Came Kenny's demand. "Eyes down! Back to work!"

Heyes instantly dropped his gaze and Kenny moved on, continuing with his rounds.

Heyes found himself shaking, partly from shock, partly from relief. Even though he had already been telling himself that very thing, having Kenny validate his exact same doubts concerning the information, and where it came from did a great deal to ease the inmate's concern. He would wait before he let despair eat him alive—wait until he heard something official.

It was getting on to 8:00 pm as Steven Granger went over some last minute paperwork in preparation for the trial to begin the following morning. It was dark outside with a definite chill in the air and he knew he should be calling it quits for now and heading home to supper. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day and if Heyes' trial was any indication, it could be a rather stressful one as well.

He was just beginning to tidy up his desk before heading for home when a quiet knock came to his door. He sighed in disappointment. He really was ready to call it a day and who in the world would come calling at this time of the night anyway? Still, he got up and went over to unlock and open the office door. He was surprised to find himself looking into the dark brown eyes of a petite and rather pretty young woman. She smiled up at him a little nervously.

"Hello." She greeted him. "I was told that you are the attorney handling the Curry trial?"

"Yes." Granger admitted as he opened the door wider to allow her to enter the office. "That's correct. How may I help you?"

"I have some information that might be of interest to you, I'm not sure."

"Well, have a seat, Miss…Mrs.…?"

"Miss." She smiled as she sat down and Granger returned to his chair. "Miss Clementine Hale."

"Oh. Of course Miss Hale." Granger smiled back. "Are you familiar with my client?"

"Oh yes!" Clementine answered emphatically. "I've known both Heyes and Kid for years! They're dear friends—both of them!"

"Indeed?" These two clients continued to surprise him. "Well, what's the information you have Miss Hale?"

"Well…" Clem started, clearly nervous and a little unsure of herself. "I just feel terrible about what happened to Heyes. I should have been here! If I had been none of this would have happened! But they both insisted that if they were ever captured and brought to trial that I was to stay away—that it would be too dangerous for me to be associated with them."

"Dangerous?" Granger asked. "In what way?"

Clem swallowed nervously, biting her lower lip and not sure how to continue. "Is anything I say to you considered confidential?" She asked.

Granger leaned back and scrutinized the young woman. This could get interesting.

"Yes." He assured her. "If that's what you wish."

"I do."

Granger nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"Well." Clem continued. "As I said, I've known both of them for years and…well, I have harboured them from the law on more than one occasion." She took out a handkerchief and began to dab a little at her eyes. "I just feel so terrible, it's my fault; what happened to Heyes. And if I can prevent the same thing from happening to Kid then I just had to come and try! And, well…maybe I can still help Heyes too."

"How is what happened to Mr. Heyes your fault?" Granger asked her.

"The name that Heyes wouldn't give, the reason he was found in Contempt of Court." Clem stopped, tears truly beginning to slide down her face. She dabbed at them.

"Yes?"

"It was my name Mr. Granger."

"Oh. I see." Granger responded.

"If I had been here for Heyes' trial I would have stood up and told the court that it was me!" Clem insisted, shaking her head. "It's just like Heyes to refuse to give me up! I could just punch him sometimes! Always acting like my big brother!"

Granger smiled at that comparison.

"Well." He continued. "Your doing that might have helped to reduce his sentence, but it wouldn't have prevented his conviction in any case."

"But why not?" Clem demanded all indignant. "They did it to help me!"

"Yes." Granger agreed. "Mr. Heyes did go so far as to admit that he did it to help a friend. But the thing is Miss Hale, it's not why he did it, it's the fact that he did it in the first place. By his own admittance it was an illegal act, perpetrated at a time when he and his partner were claiming to be law abiding. I'm afraid Mr. Heyes was going to prison either way. Nothing you could have said would change that."

"But they didn't want to do it Mr. Granger." Clem explained. "I…well…I basically blackmailed them into it."

"Blackmailed them?"

"Yes!" She admitted. "They didn't want to do it. But I was desperate! I needed their help and I knew that Heyes was a good enough con man to pull it off! It wasn't for personal gain Mr. Granger. My father was being accused of taking money that he hadn't taken and was going to go to prison if the money wasn't returned! I needed Heyes and the Kid to help me get the money from the true thief!"

"Don't tell me." Granger put in. "Mr. Fletcher?"

"Yes!" Clem was getting quite worked up now. "That lying, thieving no good…" She stopped and took a deep breath. "Mr. Fletcher swindled money from his clients and set my father up to take the fall. I had to get Heyes and Kid to help me get the money back!"

"Why didn't you just go to the authorities?" Granger asked.

Clem sighed in frustration. "Because it was the authorities who were holding my father and who told me I had to return the money!"

"Why didn't Mr. Heyes just say that at his trial?" Granger asked. "Surely under those circumstances….."

"Because what I used to blackmail them with could get me into a lot of trouble with the law myself." Clementine admitted. "And Heyes wasn't about to let that happen."

"What was it?" Granger asked.

Clem looked a little sheepish. "Well, for some years now I have had in my possession something that the law would have given their eye teeth for."

"And what was that?" Granger felt like he had to pull eye teeth just to get the information.

"A photograph of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."

"Ahhh… I see." Granger sat and contemplated this information for a few moments. "So you…threatened to hand that photograph over to the law if Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry refused to help you?"

"Yes." Clem whispered.

"And you consider yourself to be their friend?" And then instantly regretted the comment when the woman in front of him completely broke down into tears. "I'm sorry Miss Hale, I shouldn't have said that." He apologized and then got up to pour her a glass of water.

"Thank you." She accepted through her sniffles and then gradually started to calm down. "That's alright, Mr. Granger." She continued once she was under control again. "It's really nothing more than what I've already been saying to myself. But I was desperate! Now I wish the whole thing had never happened!"

The two people sat quietly again for a few minutes. Granger was slowly sifting through this new information and trying to think of how it could be used to assist his client, but wasn't coming up with much.

"I'm afraid this information is coming a bit too late to help Mr. Heyes." Granger admitted. "He has already been found guilty of fraud and running a confidence game, as well as contempt of court. His trial is over and he was sentenced and convicted. As for Mr. Curry, this information may not be relevant."

"What do you mean 'not relevant'?" Clem asked, somewhat indignantly.

"I have the prosecuting attorney's list of witnesses for Mr. Curry's trial." Granger explained. "And Mr. Fletcher is not on it."

"So?"

"Well, that strongly suggests and Mr. DeFord is not going to be building a case against Mr. Curry based on that information. He is planning a different strategy." Granger explained. "The incident involving Mr. Fletcher is probably not even going to come up in Mr. Curry's trial."

"You mean I've come forward for nothing?!" Clem couldn't believe it.

"Possibly." Granger admitted.

"Perhaps I could be a character witness for Kid!" Clem offered, desperate to be able to help in some way.

"Possibly." Granger repeated. "It's late in the game now for me to submit your name as a witness, but it still might go through. However the court and Mr. DeFord would have to approve it. Also Mr. Curry would have some say. If he is adamant against you testifying, then I wouldn't be able to call you."

Clem's expression fell with disappointment.

"Oh dear." She commented. "They are both so protective of me, I don't think….can I see him? Maybe I can convince him to let me help."

"Yes, of course. As long as he agrees." Granger said. "It's a bit late, but perhaps we can head over to the jailhouse right now. I don't think there will be time in the morning."

"Oh yes!" Clem agreed and she quickly started to dab at her eyes again and tidy up her hair, not that she could see what she was doing, but just acting on reflex. "Let's go, right now! Yes!"

Over in his cell Jed Curry was sitting on his cot with his back leaning against the wall and his knees drawn up. His arms were out, resting on his knees as he just sat, staring blankly out at nothing, and a melancholy expression upon his face and a sadness emanating from his countenance.

The other cells around him were empty, Fred and George having long since departed along with countless others who had come and gone during the past month. Those who had shared the accommodations for a time with the outlaw were surprised to find him an amiable enough room-mate and chatter and checkers had come easy and helped to pass the time. But the cells were empty now; one of those unexplained lulls in the flow of time when everything turned quiet and nothing was happening.

David had returned as promised and was pleased to find Jed's collar bone pretty much healed. It still wasn't ready for much in the way of stress or exercise but it was doing well. Most maddening as far as Jed was concerned is that David had refused to give him any more morphine, but had left him a dose of Laudanum to help him sleep if needs be. Curry was skeptical of its success.

Lom was also back in town in order to lend his support and to testify on behalf of the defense. He would be coming by first thing in the morning to get the prisoner out for breakfast and a shave etc. He needed to be looking presentable in court after all, and four months in various prison cells hadn't helped him in this regard by any stretch of the imagination.

Then, last but not least, Jesse had also returned to do his part. When he had dropped by to visit the prisoner that afternoon, he was alone and Curry felt relief that the girls weren't with him. That relief was short lived however when Jesse confessed to having left both young ladies over at the hotel, despite their protests of wanting to come along to visit with Thaddeus.

"Why did you bring them Jesse?" Kid had asked him with disappointment in his tone. "Didn't David tell you how I felt about that?"

"Yes, he did." Jesse admitted. "But there is more going on here than just what you're comfortable with."

"They shouldn't have to hear this." Curry persisted.

"But maybe they need to." Was Jesse's counter. "Beth has stronger feelings towards you than just as a friend or a brother. You can deny it to me all you want to, but we both know that's the truth of it. Now whether you reciprocate those feelings or not is going to be up to you but Beth needs to know the truth about the person who holds her heart before it goes any further."

Jed sighed, leaning his forehead against the bars of the cell.

"But that's why." Kid said, his voice muffled. Then he looked up and met Jesse's gaze, anguish in his eyes. "What I have to say could break her heart."

"Better now than later."

So there Jed Curry sat, alone and quietly tormented about what he might have to divulge to the court and what affect it all might have on his friendships. The furthest concern from his mind at that time was what the next day might bring to him personally. He was beyond caring about that; his best friend, his partner, his cousin was gone; serving what may as well be a life sentence because knowing Heyes he wouldn't be able to survive ten years behind bars let alone twenty. And the thing that irked Curry the most about it was his certainty that the Judge knew damn well the truth of that and sentenced Heyes to it anyways.

Curry just didn't know what would prove to be the better outcome of his trial. If he was pardoned then he could go full out to put pressure on the Governor. He knew that Bridget and Beth were already getting their campaign up and in full swing and were still getting letters and telegrams sent out to anyone they could think of to join in on the fight. He could go places and get in touch with people that two young maiden ladies could not properly go near so adding his efforts to theirs could be all that it would take to make the difference.

On the other had, if he were sentenced and sent to the Wyoming Territorial Prison, then at least he could be with Heyes. They'd be together, watching each other's back, supporting each other through the hard times—like always. Curry would keep Heyes alive until the girls, and Jesse, and Lom and David and any of their other friends who could be rallied to the cause 'convinced' the Governor to pardon them.

Which was the best way to go? And how many of those friends would he have left after he gave testimony? Still, they had stood by Heyes despite all the misconduct they'd heard about them committing during all those years they had chosen to live outside the law. But, Curry had a few dark little secrets that even Heyes knew nothing about. Han had known that something had happened during the years they had spent apart, but he never asked what and Jed never told.

Truth be known, it had never occurred to Kid that the things he had done before he and Heyes had partnered up might now return to the surface, but when he and Granger had looked over the prosecutors list of witnesses, not only were a number of expected names not there, but they had been replaced by ones that Curry didn't recognize. Granger had then been concerned about what DeFord's strategy was going to be so they could build a defense against it, which was hard to do if Curry didn't know any of them.

It was then that the cold chill of realization had hit the Kid, like a vulture in his mind circling and waiting all those years, until past deeds resurfaced and it could finally glide down to feast upon them. The Kid just hoped and prayed that Mr. DeFord had not gotten wind of them, or Jedediah Curry just might not get out of this alive.

These were all the thoughts going through the Kid's mind when Steven Granger entered the block and stopped outside the cell. Curry came back to the present, surprised to see his lawyer back again and so late in the evening.

"Mr. Granger." Curry acknowledged him. "Was there something more we needed to talk about?"

"That depends on you." Granger answered him. "A young woman has just come forward wishing to be a character witness on your behalf. She is concerned that you will not permit her to do so, and I'm concerned that it may cause more problems than it solves. Still, the decision is yours."

Curry was looking more and more confused as this statement continued.

"Who is it?"

"A young lady by the name of Clementine Hale."

"WHAT!?" Curry was off the cot in an instant and over to the bars. "CLEM IS…..!" Then he covered his mouth and sent a furtive glance towards the office. "Clem is here? Now?" He continued in a whisper.

"Yes." Granger confirmed. "She's in the office just waiting for you to agree to see her."

"Aw Jeez! What is she thinking?" Curry complained. "She shouldn't be here! What if….well…" Jed hesitated, not sure how much Granger knew of Clem's involvement in all this.

"Miss Hale has informed me of a certain photograph she has in her possession." Granger assured his client. "And that she is indeed the person whom your partner refused to name in his trial."

Kid started to pace, hands on hips shaking his head and mumbling some incoherent choice words concerning Miss Hale and her sense of timing. Mr. Granger waited a few moments for this to subside and then finally decided that it was time to push the matter or they would be here all night.

"Mr. Curry?" He began. "Shall I invite her to come join us?"

Kid stopped and stared at his lawyer for a minute, then ran a hand through his curls and groaned.

"It'll be up to me if she testifies?" He confirmed.

"Yes."

"And everything she says here, between us will be confidential?"

"Yes."

"Arrgg!" He threw his hands up in defeat. "May as well, she'll never give up otherwise!"

Granger returned to the office and almost instantly the door banged open again and Clementine charged into the block and over to the cell.

"Kid! Oh Kid, I'm so sorry about what happened! I just couldn't believe it when I heard what had happened! What was Heyes thinking! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

And then she grabbed Curry by the lapel of his shirt, pulled him up to the bars and planted such a kiss upon his mouth as would make a sailor blush! Granger and Sheriff Turner exchanged somewhat shocked glances over top of the young woman's head and then watched in amazement this uninhibited display of affection.

"No…..Clem…..stop…" Curry tried to push her away, but as the kiss continued his protesting hands gradually became caressing and then he was hugging her through the bars and returning the kiss with somewhat more passion than was comfortable for the other two men watching.

"Alright! Break it up!" Turner insisted as he finally took hold of Clementine's arm and pulled her away from the prisoner. "That's enough of that young lady." And he sent Curry a slightly reprimanding look. "I said you could come back here to talk to him, but not…. what….you were doing!"

"Oh yes, I'm sorry Sheriff." Clem apologized breathlessly as she straightened out her hair and then her jacket. "It's just been so long since I've seen my friend and so much has happened."

"Uh huh." Turner commented. "Well, just you stay away from the bars miss, or you won't be having any conversation at all. Do you understand?"

"Of course Sheriff." Clem agreed. "Again, I apologize."

"Fine." Turner answered, and then looked to the lawyer. "Mr. Granger, I'll let you folks have your little confidential chat back here, but she's to stay away from the prisoner. You understand?"

"Yes Sheriff." Granger agreed. "I'll make sure of it."

Turner nodded and then headed back to his office, closing the door behind him.

"Clem, what are you doing here?" Curry demanded as soon as the Sheriff was gone. "It's too risky having you here. We told you to stay away!"

"I know Kid, but I just couldn't sit back and let what happened to Heyes happen to you too!" Clem explained. "Not if I could do something about it!"

"Well there's nothing you can do for Heyes now, and he wouldn't want you to anyways!" Curry continued. "If you admit to your part in that scam now then you'd be in trouble too and Heyes would have gone to prison for nothing!"

"I could just explain to them what happened to my father and that I was desperate." Clem suggested. "I can just say that I asked you to help and you did it out of an obligation to me."

"That won't make it any less illegal." Granger put in. "You'll only be setting yourself up to be charged and if the authorities find out about the photograph you would be in even more trouble. Which is exactly why I don't think it's a good idea for you to take the stand in the first place."

"But I don't have to say anything about the photograph!" Clem insisted.

"But DeFord will want to know why Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry were so willing to put their amnesty at risk. I'm afraid just feeling obligated won't do it." Granger explained. "He will want to know why and he will dig for it. It's just not a good idea."

"But…"

"And you're forgetting one other thing Clem." Curry cut in. "What about Diamond Jim?"

"Oh."

"Heyes wasn't just protecting you." Curry reminded her. "DeFord knew we had two accomplices on that job, and he was insisting on both names. How do you think Jim would handle prison Clem?"

"Oh dear. I had forgotten about that." Clem admitted, but then brightened up. "Well, I just won't give Mr. DeFord the name!"

"And end up in the same situation that found Mr. Heyes in contempt of court." Granger explained, then shook his head. "It's just too risky. Mr. Curry, I strongly advise you to not allow your friend to take the stand."

"I think I'll take your advice Mr. Granger."

Clem pouted and stamped her foot. "But I….!"

"No Clem." Curry insisted. "It's just too risky."

"Fine!" She answered, crossing her arms and pouting even more. Then she wagged a finger in Kid's face. "But I'm not leaving town! I'll be in that courtroom tomorrow for the trial and if that no good scheming Fletcher shows up unannounced and causes trouble then I will stand up! And there's nothing either one of you can do about it!"

"I think that about does it for tonight." Kid commented. "Mr. Granger would you mind escorting my friend here back to the hotel?"

"But…!"

"I would be happy to, Mr. Curry.!" Granger assured his client. "I will see you tomorrow. Try and get some sleep if you can."

Then Mr. Granger took hold of Clem's elbow and started to steer her towards the door.

"No! But…Kid!"

"Goodnight Clementine!"

"Well I never!" Clem continued to protest. "This is ridiculous! I think I can walk on my own Mr. Granger! Of all the…." Etc. etc. and she continued to protest as her voice faded further and further away until they had passed through the office and then disappeared out the front door.

Kid rolled his eyes and then released an exasperated but relieved sigh. He was just in the process of turning away from the bars when the Sheriff and one of the night deputies came into the block and up to the cell.

"Hold it right there Curry." Turned ordered him. "Put your hands through the bars, right now."

"Ahhh." Curry slumped in disappointment, but did as instructed. He had been through this enough times with Morrison to know what was coming next.

Sure enough the handcuffs were snapped into place and the two lawmen entered the cell and began to give it a thorough searching. Then Turner came up behind the Kid and gave him just as thorough a patting down as they'd given the cell.

"Just had to make sure, Curry." Turner explained. "That young lady got a little too close to you for comfort—my comfort!"

Once the two men were satisfied that nothing had been 'inadvertently' left behind they exited the cell and Turner removed the handcuffs.

"Have a good night." The Sheriff commented. "Sleep well."

"Yeah." Curry mumbled as he headed back to his cot.

He lay down on his back and rested his right arm across his chest. His shoulder was aching again. He knew that between the pain he was in and the worry on his mind that the Laudanum alone was not going to help him sleep and that this night, of all nights, he needed to sleep.

He sighed, and sitting up reached under his pillow and pulled out the pouch of morphine that Dr. Jackson had supplied him with. He felt a little guilty about not telling David that the local doctor had been supplying him with the drug, but not guilty enough to refrain from taking it. Once the trial was over he would stop. Hell, if he was convicted and ended up in prison he wouldn't be able to continue taking it anyways. So…either way then—after the trial he'd stop.

The next morning found a very familiar scene in the courtroom situated next to the jailhouse. Some of the key players had changed, of course; instead of Mike and Heyes sitting in the row reserved for the defendant now it was Rick and Curry. Lom and Mr. Granger were back in their original places as was Sheriff Turner and the trial was getting well under way. Again, Granger was struck by the extreme differences between his two clients. Where Heyes had been agitated and nervous to the point of shaking, Curry appeared calm and relaxed and apparently unconcerned about the proceedings around him.

Lom knew better though. It was just the different ways his two friends dealt with stress. Maybe it was Curry's special abilities developed as a gunman that allowed him to camouflage his nervous energy and present it to the outside world as calm self-assurance. Or maybe the Kid had already possessed that ability and that is what made him into such a convincing gunman. Lom didn't really know which came first, but he did know that Jed Curry was very nervous and he stayed close to give whatever assurance his presence would lend. It was going to be a tough day.

Curry had been surprised to walk in on a standing room only assembly and the loudish murmurings that had instantly quieted when the party entered the room created an ominous but expectant atmosphere that was hard to ignore. But the defendant didn't even attempt to look around at who might be present, he had a pretty good idea as to who the important ones were and he knew they were there. That was all that mattered to him.

Once the Honourable Judge Henry Parsons had been ushered in and the usual proceedings attended to everyone settled in to witness the trial of; The Territory of Wyoming vs, Jedediah Curry. The charges against the defendant included Armed Robbery (again, too many counts to count.), Assault with a Deadly Weapon and Breaking and Entering. Again, the overly optimistic plea of; Not Guilty due to extenuating circumstances was entered and the trial was underway.

Sheriff Morrison was in amongst the spectators, as he had no intentions of missing a single moment of these proceedings if he was given any choice in the matter at all. However, Mr. DeFord felt that it had already been established beyond a doubt that the defendants were indeed Hannibal Heyes and Jed Curry, so he saw no need to reiterate those statements. Instead the first witness he called forth was Richard Layton.

"Deputy Layton." Mr. DeFord began, once the necessities had been dealt with. "It is my understanding that you were part of the posse that arrested Mr. Curry and his partner. Is that correct?"

"Yes." Rick answered. "That's correct."

"Now you're not a regular, full time law officer are you Deputy Layton?"

"No I'm not." Rick admitted. "I own a spread here in Wyoming and work it most of the time. I only pin on a badge when Sheriff Morrison requires my services."

"And what might those services be that a regular deputy could not fulfill them?"

"I'm a sharpshooter with a rifle."

"So Sheriff Morrison felt that there might be a need for a man who is an expert with a rifle?" DeFord asked. "Just in case?"

"No sir." Rick corrected him. "There was no 'just in case' about it. The plan was to hit the outlaws by ambush and take Jed Curry out of the equation before either one of them had an inkling of what was happening."

"Rather drastic wasn't it?" DeFord asked again. "For two men who are known for their 'non-violent' policy during their crime spree, why would you feel it necessary to shoot one of them through ambush rather than just simply take them by surprise and arrest them?"

"I think everyone in this courtroom is familiar with Mr. Curry's reputation as a gunman." Rick commented. "He is the fastest and most accurate shooter I've ever heard of. Just because he has never killed during a robbery doesn't mean he has never killed. We just couldn't take the chance of him reacting on instinct and going for his gun. He's just too damn good."

"Indeed." DeFord commented. "So, in your mind Mr. Curry is a dangerous man?"

Rick hesitated in answering that question. He looked over at the defendant, feeling that whatever answer he gave, it could not encompass the truth. Four months ago he would have had no doubt of his opinion, but now…."

"If you go by reputation, then 'yes', Jed Curry has the reputation of being a dangerous man." Rick agreed to that much. "But if…"

"Thank you Deputy Layton." DeFord cut him off. "You answered my question. It has also come to my attention that Mr. Curry attempted on two separate occasions to break legal custody. Don't you think that is odd behavior for a man claiming to be going straight, even to the point of anticipating a pardon from the Governor?"

"Not when you take into consideration the circumstances surrounding them." Rick countered. "The first time Mr. Curry tried to run he was badly injured and being kept under a strong dosage of morphine. He wasn't in his right mind and had no clear idea of what he was doing or where he was going. As for the second attempt, I don't feel that he was trying to escape. He was surprised at seeing his partner and had simply reacted to it. There was no malicious intent."

"No malicious intent." DeFord repeated. "And yet you shot him from ambush. Do you regret that now?"

"No." Rick admitted. "As I stated, he's too good with that six-shooter. We just couldn't take the chance."

"Thank you Deputy. Your witness Mr. Granger."

In the back of the courtroom Morrison rolled his eyes. What had gotten into Layton anyways? He never used to be so wishy-washy about the outlaws they'd brought in to justice. Instead of being a solid witness for the prosecution all he had done was muddy up the waters.

"Deputy Layton." Granger acknowledged the witness. "It seems to me that Mr. DeFord interrupted you earlier, so I will put the question to you again. Do you feel that Jed Curry is a dangerous man? In your opinion, Deputy, not according to reputation."

Again Rick looked over at the defendant and tried to organize his thoughts.

"I have spent the last four months in the company of Mr. Curry." Rick explained. "I have seen him fighting for his life. I have seen him running scared. I have seen him angry, frustrated, and depressed. I have also seen him excited, exuberant, gentle and compassionate. Only once did I see him 'dangerous' and then it was fleeting and he diffused it himself. He can be very tenacious."

Jed felt rather than heard Lom give a soft chuckle over that one, then the added, barely audible comment; "You have no idea."

"So do you feel that the defendant is worthy of an amnesty?"

Rick sighed and considered the question. He really did feel torn about this.

"No." He finally had to admit. "He's a criminal, there's no doubt about that and he has done things that need retribution. I do think that their efforts to go straight should be taken into consideration however."

"Alright. Thank you Deputy." Granger concluded. "No more questions Your Honour."

"Fine. Deputy Layton, you may step down." The Judge responded. "Mr. DeFord, your next witness and I hope for your sake he or she is a little more supportive of your case than this one has been."

"Yes Your Honour." DeFord agreed. "I would like to call Mr. Mathew Jaxton to the stand."

Curry looked around as the witness made his way up to the front of the courtroom. When Granger had shown him the list of witnesses, this name had seemed familiar but in a very distant sort of way. He hadn't been able to put his finger on it and he hoped that a visual of the man might help. Again, something about him tugged at Kid's memory, but it wasn't giving him anything. Lom looked the question over at him, but Curry could only shrug and shake his head.

Mr. Jaxton was a young man, much younger than Curry was himself and he seemed to be both nervous and excited at being called in to testify. But he was animated, as though this were a great adventure and he was determined to make the most of it.

"Mr. Jaxton." DeFord began. "Are you familiar with the defendant?"

"Oh yes sir!" Jaxton exclaimed, all eager to please. "I've seen him a couple of times now—though I have to admit I didn't know who he was until I saw the article in the newspaper about Heyes and Curry being captured and there was a picture of him! Then I thought 'Woooeee! Imagine that! I guess that kinda makes sense!' Then I knew I had to come forward to tell you folks what I know."

Curry was starting to feel a slight dread in the pit of his stomach. He still couldn't place this young man, but he was getting close and it didn't bode well.

"That's fine Mr. Jaxton." DeFord was trying to keep his young witness focused and coherent. "Perhaps you can tell the court how it is you first became acquainted with Mr. Curry."

"Sure!" Jaxton agreed. "It was a little over four years ago that I seen him down Matherville way—course he was going by Thaddeus Jones then, but I seen him sure enough—in the fastest gunfight I never thought I would live to witness!"

Ohh no. That's where he'd seen that youngster before! Not in Matherville, but three years ago in some town he couldn't remember the name of now. He'd been waiting for Heyes to show up and that excitable kid had accosted him in the saloon, all excited about meeting the man who had out shot Danny Bilson! Damn it! This could be trouble and the trial had only just begun!

Lom frowned and looked over at his friend.

"What's he talking about?"

Kid didn't answer. Lom was going to be in for yet another unwelcome surprise.

"Indeed!" DeFord feigned surprise. "By all means, fill us in on the details."

"Well sure!" Jaxton agreed excitedly. "As I recall Mr. Bilson was a real slick business man. He showed up in Matherville and right away bought up the best gambling house the town had to offer and he didn't put up with no nonsense neither! You get some of the fellas in there with a little too much to drink and they start loosing at the tables and stuff, well some of em' don't want to leave it at that and they start to fighten'. Well, Mr. Bilson, he'd put them in their place right away! Finally one of them fellas who was loosen' regularly, well he made the mistake of challenging Mr. Bilson to a gunfight! Right in the middle of the street too! Well I swear I ain't never seen anybody draw a gun that fast! Mr. Bilson he done put that cowboy down so fast he probably never knowed what hit him!"

"Are you saying that this Mr. Bilson killed the man?" DeFord asked.

"Sure as shooten'!" Jaxton stated. "Deader than a fly in honey!"

"And the sheriff in the town didn't think the incident worth investigating?"

"The sheriff witnessed it!" Jaxton explained. "Yea see, he has the opinion that whoever draws first in a gunfight had better loose, cause he's the one who started it so it's his fault. Simple as that!"

"So I take it the young cowboy drew first."

"Yessir, sure did! But Bilson, he still beat him, and beat him easy!"

"I see." DeFord commented. "So, what happened next Mr. Jaxton?"

"Well I think it was the next day." Jaxton continued. "Mr. Jones there…I mean Mr. Curry, he and his friend were outside the livery stable getting their horses ready for travel, I guess they were planning on leaving town. Now Mr. Bilson, he comes out of the gambling house and he's callin' to Mr. Curry, like accusing him of something. Of course this starts to get people's attention, especially after what had happened the day before, so everybody's kinda watchin' to see what's gonna happen. Now, Mr. Curry, he steps out from between them two horses and he faces off against Mr. Bilson, but they just keep on talkin'. I couldn't make out what they were sayin' but it still sounded like Mr. Bilson was accusing Mr. Curry of something. But boy! You could just feel the tension building even out there in the street—you just knowed there's going to be a showdown!

Now you could tell that Mr. Curry was ready for a fight, but he stayed real calm and wouldn't make the first move, though you could tell that Bilson was trying to push him. Then what happened next I still can't believe it! I never seen nothin that fast! Well, I can't even say that I saw it that time! And I was watchin' em! I had my eyes glued onto Mr. Curry because I had seen Mr. Bilson draw the day before and I knowed how fast he was and that there ain't nobody faster than that! So I was watchin' Mr. Curry cause, well…" Here he got a little shamefaced, but carried on anyways. "Well, I ain't never seen a man die before and I was sure Mr. Curry was gonna die right there on that street and I wanted to see that!"

There was a slight murmur of disapproval from the assembly and again Jaxton at least had the sense to look ashamed at least a little bit.

"Well, you see, I'd missed it the day before." He explained. "I'd been watchin' Mr. Bilson, cause he looked like a gunfighter and I wanted to see how fast he was. And boy was he fast!...Anyway, Mr. Curry now, he didn't look anything like a gunfighter other than that he wore his gun tied down so I figured it was just going to be a repeat of what happened the day before. Not knowin' yea see, that Mr. Jones was actually Kid Curry. Well, I tell ya—like I said, I had my eyes glued onto Mr. Curry cause I thought for sure he was a dead man. And then it happened so fast! I swear I didn't even see it and I was lookin' right at him!"

"What happened Mr. Jaxton?" Even Mr. DeFord was getting frustrated with this ongoing monologue.

"Well, like I said they'd a been talkin'." Jaxton continued. "Then I guess Mr. Curry, he got tired of the game and he turned, like he was going to walk away, and then…" Jaxton stopped and just sat there with his mouth hanging open and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yes, Mr. Jaxton." Mr. DeFord prompted him. "And then what happened?"

"Well, I just…." Jaxton began, not sure how to put it into words. "I was starin' right at 'im and I didn't see it! One instant Mr. Curry had turned to walk away and the next there was a loud report and the gun was in his hand with smoke coming from the muzzle. It was unbelievable! And I'm not the only one who thought so—everyone who saw it—or maybe, didn't see it, if you know what I mean. Everyone was just standing there, amazed. I think Mr. Bilson was just as shocked as everyone else, before he died that is. And I missed it again!"

"Yes, how unfortunate for you." DeFord commented dryly. "So what happened after that Mr. Jaxton?"

"Well, everyone sort of just mulled around for a while." Jaxton continued. "Quite a few went over to Mr. Bilson's body just to make sure I suppose. Then the sheriff was talking to Mr. Jones, I mean Mr. Curry and I suppose his friend was Mr. Heyes there, they talked together for a bit and then Mr. Curry and Mr. Heyes rode out of town."

"The sheriff just let them leave town?"

"Well, yeah." Jaxton shrugged. "I guess Mr. Bilson was the one who drew first and he was dead, so that was the end of it."

Mr. DeFord nodded. "Well, this does bring up an interesting point." The prosecuting attorney addressed the jury. "Here Mr. Curry has been insisting all this time that he's never killed anyone and yet we have a very clear, eye-witness account of him doing just that. Not only doing it, but doing it during the time when he was supposedly applying for an amnesty. Interesting—don't you think? I have no more questions."

"Thank you Mr. DeFord." The Judge commented. "Mr. Granger, your witness."

All the time that Jaxton was talking, Curry could feel Lom tensing more and more. This wasn't good. It had been a fair gunfight, even the town sheriff had thought so, but under their current circumstances it made the defendant look pretty bad. There was going to be hell to pay from Lom during lunch break, Jed already knew that. First Heyes and now Curry had done questionable things that could (and did) threaten their amnesty bid and they had not informed their benefactor about them. And as Curry had surmised earlier, the trial was just beginning!

"Mr. Jaxton." Mr. Granger addressed the witness. "As you say; you witnessed this whole episode right from the beginning. In your own opinion which of the two adversaries was the antagonist?"

"Ummm, what do you mean?" Jaxton asked, confused.

"Who started it?" Granger explained. "Which of the two men was pushing for the fight?"

"Oh! Mr. Bilson for sure." Jaxton answered. "Course, I don't know what happened to get him riled like that, but he was for sure the one pushin' for the fight that day."

"And you said that Mr. Curry had tried to walk away, that he didn't want to fight."

"Well maybe." Jaxton hesitated. "Mr. Curry did turn away slightly. I can't say for sure that he was plannin' on leavin'. It looked more to me like he was trying to fake a move to goad Mr. Bilson into drawin' first."

"But you can't be sure what his intentions were."

"Well, no." Jaxton admitted. "I suppose not."

"And the town sheriff did not feel that Mr. Curry was at fault, isn't that correct?"

"Well yeah, but he didn't know that Mr. Jones was actually Kid Curry."

"Under the circumstances Mr. Curry's identity is irrelevant." Mr. Granger pointed out. "He was either the one at fault or he wasn't. It would appear that the sheriff felt that Mr. Bilson was the person at fault. Would you agree?"

"Well yeah, I suppose." Jaxton conceded the point. "It was Mr. Bilson who was pushing for a fight and he sure wasn't going to let Mr. Curry leave town. That's for sure!"

"Thank you Mr. Jaxton." Granger said. "No more questions Your Honour."

"Fine, you may step down Mr. Jaxton." The judge instructed. "Mr. DeFord, your next witness please."

"I'd like to call Mrs. Julia Stanton to the stand."

A young woman came to the front then, again looking nervous at being put on the spot, but still determined to have her say. Curry sighed with frustration. All these people coming to testify against him and he didn't have a clue who they were. His only hope was that the witnesses they had lined up for the defense were going to be just as effective.

"Mrs. Stanton." DeFord began after she had been sworn in. "Would you please tell the court where you live?"

"Of course." She answered quietly. "Me and my husband live in Missouri."

"Are you acquainted with the defendant Mrs. Stanton?"

Here the young woman, though keeping her head lowered, looked over to the Kid and locked eyes with him. Curry felt the daggers pierce his heart and dread tingled down his spine. This young woman knew him and hated him and he was beginning to think that maybe, he knew why.

"Yes, I am acquainted with him." She answered her voice hard. "Though I doubt that he would recognize me."

"Would you please tell the court how you are acquainted with him?" DeFord prompted her.

"HE MURDERED MY FATHER!" She sobbed harshly, bringing her hand up to her mouth, the tears starting to fall. "He rode onto our farm and shot my father down in cold blood, right in front of me!" She sobbed again, and grabbed her handkerchief from her purse and tried to regain control.

There was a loud sympathetic murmuring from the assembly while Curry, just like Heyes before him wished he could simply disappear.

In the back of the courtroom, Jesse was already regretting bringing the girls, and those two young ladies were clutching each others' hands in mutual support and each biting their lower lips to maintain control. As for David, his thoughts could not be read, mainly because he had no real idea what he was thinking himself.

Judge Parsons brought the gavel down in three successive raps.

"ORDER! Order in the courtroom, please."

The assembly quieted.

"Do you feel that you can carry on Mrs. Stanton?" The Judge asked her.

"Yes, please." She answered. "I'm sorry, this is very difficult."

"Yes, I'm sure it is." The Judge sympathized with her. "If you feel you need a break at any time just say so."

"Thank you Your Honour."

DeFord nodded and then smiled encouragingly at her.

"How long ago was this Mrs. Stanton, do you recall?" He asked her.

"Oh yes! I could hardly forget!" She answered. "It was thirteen years ago. I was seven years old and I saw that man ride onto our farm and shoot my father down where he stood. I'll never forget it." And she sent another set of visual daggers in the Kid's direction.

Lom was being unusually quiet.

"Thank you Mrs. Stanton." DeFord said. "I have no more questions."

"Mr. Granger. Your witness."

"Yes, Your Honour." Granger acknowledged and he approached the stand. "Mrs. Stanton, I realize this is difficult for you, but a man's very life could hang on your testimony here. You were very young at the time of this assault and it was a long time ago. How can you be sure that the defendant is the same man who came on to your farm that day?"

"I realize that it was a long time ago." Mrs. Stanton conceded. "And Mr. Curry was much younger then himself, but it was him—I'm sure of it. I'll never forget those eyes."

"Yes, ma'am." Granger accepted that. He hesitated a moment, collecting his thoughts, scrambling for a foothold. Over in his corner DeFord smiled slightly, feeling that he had this trial all wrapped up, it was just a matter of going through the motions now. "The war was a devastating event for many people, especially those living in Missouri and Kansas. Men did things during that time that they would never dream of doing during peace. Do you know in what capacity your father participated in the war Mrs. Stanton?"

Mrs. Stanton drew herself up, sensing that the defense attorney was suggesting something shameful.

"My father was an honourable man!" She insisted. "He fought bravely in the war, and rode proudly with the Missouri Militia!"

Another murmur started to rise up from the assembly, but quieted again as the whole courtroom listened in anticipation.

"The Missouri Militia." Granger repeated. "Fighting along the Missouri-Kansas border?"

"I'm really not sure where he fought." Mrs. Stanton admitted indignantly. "What difference does that make?"

"As I stated earlier, many terrible things happened during that war, things that men would never dream of doing during peace time." Granger was feeling his way here, trying to be gentle, but needing to make the point none the less. "The defendant's family lived in Kansas, close to the border and they were murdered by—raiders. Could it be possible that your father…."

"NO!" Mrs. Stanton shouted at him, tears starting again. "My father was an honourable man! He would never butcher a family—women and children! How can you even suggest that!?" And she started sobbing uncontrollably.

Mr. Granger stood for a moment watching her cry and realized there was no point in continuing. He met the gaze of the Judge and both decided through silent agreement that the witness was done for the day.

"You may step down, Mrs. Stanton." The judge stated.

Mrs. Stanton nodded through her sobs and quickly left the stand. A young man, presumably Mr. Stanton rushed forward to embrace her and assist her back to her seat. A heavy silence had settled over the courtroom.

Curry felt sick. Those little secrets he had so successfully buried away so that even Heyes didn't know about them were starting to surface. Somehow DeFord had dug them out and Curry knew he was doomed. He had no defense against these charges because he knew he was guilty and he felt the shame for the things he had done to try and ease a young man's anger and need for vengeance. All he had succeeded in doing was hurting more people and dooming himself.

"Mr. DeFord." The Judge said quietly. "Your next witness, if you please."

"Yes Your Honour. I call Mr. Brian Charles to the stand."

Well, at least Mr. Charles was someone Curry knew about, so there shouldn't be too many surprises here—he hoped.

"Good day Mr. Charles." DeFord greeted him. "Welcome back."

"Yes, thank you."

"Would you please give a brief account of how you know the defendant and his cousin?"

"Of course." Mr. Charles agreed. "Well, as I stated at Mr. Heyes' trial, I also suffered the loss of my family during those border raids and was sent to Valparaiso Home for Waywards and Orphans. I was there for a year or so before Han and Jed showed up, and as I also stated before, they made their presence known fairly quickly."

"Yes, Mr. Charles." DeFord commented. "You gave a clear description of Hannibal Heyes' behavior during that time. If you can be as forthcoming as to Jed Curry's that would be most helpful. What are your memories of his behavior Mr. Charles?"

"Well, as I stated before; Jed was kind of a sweet kid. Quiet and polite, but he was small and scrawny for his age so he got picked on quite a bit by the older boys. We learned early on to watch out for Han because if he got wind of us picking on Jed there would be hell to pay. But Jed had a willful pride too and he often wouldn't tell Han if he got beat up—only if the bruises showed cause then there could be no denying it." Then Mr. Charles hesitated, and smiled. "Oh but Jed could be quite the little bobcat too, once he got riled. It'd take quite a bit of doing to push Jed over the edge, but once you did—look out! And he'd always just go for the biggest boy in the group. It wouldn't matter how many there were picking on him either; he'd just zero in on the biggest and go for him! It was quite funny actually to watch him." And Mr. Charles laughed, totally oblivious to the fact that no one else in the courtroom thought this funny. "Seeing this little kid going after a boy a foot taller and twice his weight! Ha! Boy yeah! That was something. He'd have no chance of winning the fight, but he wouldn't back off, just like a little wolverine! He'd end up bruised and bloody during one of those encounters, but it usually took the Matron, or Han to break it up."

"Really?" Mr. DeFord commented. "And yet you say that he was a 'sweet' kid. Kind of hard to mesh the two extremes Mr. Charles. How do you explain that?"

"Well, like I said; Jed would take a lot of bullying before he was pushed to that state." Mr. Charles explained. "But once the older boys discovered what it was that would wind him up like that, well they'd use it more and more, just to watch him explode."

"So there was a trigger?" Mr. DeFord asked.

"A trigger?" Mr. DeFord had forgotten how easily Mr. Charles could be confused.

"Yes." Mr. DeFord explained. "One thing specifically that would upset him."

"Oh yeah!" Mr. Charles agreed. "Yeah—his ma. Boy, you say anything against Jed's ma and he'd just go to pieces. I tell you, it was fun to watch!"

Still, Mr. Charles was totally oblivious to the discomfort his testimony was creating in the courtroom, nobody else thought this was funny. Bad mouthing a young boy's deceased mother—that was just plain cruel!

Curry himself was having a difficult time maintaining his calm exterior with the memories of that harassment coming back home to him. And the fact that old 'Bratty' Brian still was getting a laugh out of it made Jed want to rip the man's heart out right then and there. Fortunately he had learned a great deal about self-control since those days and he was able to keep his temper in check. But his whole body was tense and Lom noticed his fists clenching and unclenching with the strain of keeping himself in his seat.

"Take it easy Kid." Lom whispered to him. "He's cutting his own throat."

Curry looked over at Lom and the anguish that man saw in his friend's eyes was enough to make the sheriff forget the anger caused by the previous revelations. Again, this trial was turning into another emotional roller coaster ride for everyone involved and there was just no telling what direction events were going to take them.

"So, in your opinion Mr. Charles." DeFord tried to get things going in the right direction. "Would you say that Mr. Curry displayed an explosive temper, even as a child?"

"Oh, for sure!" Mr. Charles agreed. "Leave him alone and he was a sweet kid, but push him too far and look out!" Then suddenly Mr. Charles' smile faded and he furrowed his brow. "Then one day things kind of changed."

"How do you mean 'changed'?" Mr. DeFord asked.

"Well, I don't really know how it came about. I guess one day Jed just got tired of being bullied." Mr. Charles explained. "The older boys found another opportunity to pick on him again, only this time when they insulted his ma the reaction we got was different."

"Different?" Mr. DeFord asked. "In what way?"

"It was, opposite to what we were expecting. Instead of exploding and attacking, Jed went real quiet. It was eerie and kind of frightening."

"Frightening?" Mr. DeFord repeated. "How so?"

"He just stood there, calm as could be." Mr. Charles continued, but he was uneasy with the memory. "All of a sudden you could feel a chill in the air. All of a sudden, he was dangerous."

The assembly went quiet.

"Dangerous?"

"Yes. It was his eyes. Something in his eyes." Mr. Charles shivered involuntarily. "Suddenly they were like—death turned to ice." And he looked over at Kid, looked into those blue eyes again. A chill went through him and he quickly looked away.

Everyone in the courtroom shivered, the silence was suffocating.

"Then what happened?" Mr. DeFord tried to break the ice, keep things moving.

"Ahhh…" Mr. Charles needed to collect his thoughts. "Everyone just kind of backed off of him. Even Gerald who was the biggest bully of them all knew there was something wrong. He tried to cover it up, but we all knew he was scared too. I don't know what would have happened if Han hadn't shown up right then. He got into Jed's line of sight and that broke it up." Then he sighed, a reflective look on his face. "Nobody ever bothered Jed again after that."

"In your opinion Mr. Charles." Mr. DeFord asked. "Do you believe that at that point Jed Curry was capable of murder?"

"Without a doubt!" Mr. Charles answered without hesitation. "He was just a little kid, no more than ten or eleven years old I'd say, but after that day, none of the stories I was to hear about Kid Curry ever surprised me. Because I saw it. I saw it that day—what he was. A killer."

At first this statement was met with silence in the courtroom, and then all of a sudden everyone started talking at once! The gavel was banging out a tattoo to bring the assembly to order. Curry had turned cold with fear and had started to shiver. His initial thought that Charles' testimony would be easier because it was known couldn't have been further from the truth. It hit home—like a knife. Lom put a hand on him, afraid that he was going to have a collapse of some sort, like Heyes had done, but Jed met his friend's concerned eyes and shook his head. He was alright. It was just having all those memories coming to the forefront again; it was hard to deal with.

"Thank you Mr. Charles." Mr. DeFord said. "No more questions."

"Mr. Granger, your witness."

Mr. Granger nodded and putting a reassuring hand on his client's shoulder, he stood up and approached the witness.

"Mr. Charles." Mr. Granger acknowledged the witness. "I find it interesting that you and the other boys at Valparaiso found it 'fun to watch' a young boy being bullied to the point of loosing control and 'exploding', as you so adeptly but it."

Mr. Charles squirmed a little bit in his chair as he felt some of the heat being put back onto him.

"You were well aware that the young Jed Curry had witnessed the brutal murders of his family—including his mother, and yet you saw nothing wrong in using those memories as a tool in order to 'wind him up' as you said; to get a reaction?" Mr. Granger asked this rather bluntly.

"Well, we were all just boys." Mr. Charles defended himself. "We'd all been through similar experiences and had learned to deal with them. If Jed was going to allow it to eat at him, then you kind of have to expect to be picked on."

"So an eight year old boy was expected to have the fortitude to withstand that kind of bullying?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Like I said." Mr. Charles reiterated. "We all had been through similar experiences. Boys will be boys after all. Any boy who shows weakness like that is going to get picked on; it's just the natural order of things."

"The natural order." Mr. Granger repeated. "Yes, I suppose you're right Mr. Charles. Unfortunately there will always be bullies. So the rest of us must either stand up to bullies, or accept being tormented by them."

"Well—yeah."

"And yet, when Mr. Curry did finally stand up to you, you accuse him of being 'dangerous'…a 'killer' even." Mr. Granger pointed out. "Could it not be that he just simply got tired of being picked on?"

"No." Mr. Charles was adamant in his response. He looked over at Jed Curry and shook his head. "No, Mr. Granger. You weren't there, you didn't see it. After that day you didn't go near Jed, not unless Han was with him. There was no room anymore to push him. You look at him sideways and he'd come at you and it wasn't just to bloody your nose, or bruise your face; he'd come prepared to gouge your eyes or strangle the life out of you." Again, Charles shook his head and shivered a little. "No, Mr. Granger, I will not retract what I said earlier. Jed Curry did not turn mean, he turned dangerous. I'm positive if it wasn't for Han keeping him in check he would have hung from the gallows years ago."

"So the fact that Mr. Curry has been staying out of trouble for the past five years doesn't hold any credence to you I take it?" Mr. Granger asked.

"No sir." Mr. Charles insisted. "And from the testimonies I've heard here today he hasn't been staying out of trouble. Not if that poor young woman is right in her accusation that he killed her father, not to mention more recently that Mr. Bilson fella and who knows how many others! I dread to think what would happen if he's granted a pardon with Heyes not being around to keep him under control. I dread to think!"

"Alright Mr. Charles, thank you. I have no more questions Your Honour."

Mr. Granger returned to his party feeling somewhat frustrated. It had been easy to turn Mr. Charles' opinion around to some degree in Heyes' trial, but in this situation he was stubbornly standing his ground. There was no point in pushing it.

"You may step down Mr. Charles." The Judge instructed. "I suggest we break for lunch. Court will resume at 1:00 pm."

The gavel came down and the courtroom began to buzz. Turner and Rick were very quick at getting Curry onto his feet and headed towards the side door before anyone could intercept them. Sure enough, there were plenty who were rushing to the front in order to try a get a word in with the defendant but they weren't fast enough. Clementine Hale amongst others got there just in time to have the door shut in their faces and no admittance allowed.

Twenty minutes later Curry was sitting on his bunk looking totally dejected, his lunch sitting untouched on the floor. Lom and Steven Granger were on the other side of the bars, making it quite clear that neither one of them were happy with the mornings' revelations. Lom was looking almost as dejected as Curry, trying to resign himself to the fact that both of his friends had found it necessary to omit from their reports to him certain decisions and actions they had committed during the past five years.

Mr. Granger on the other hand was livid, which was quite unusual for him, generally being a rather even tempered young man.

"What do you think?! That this is a game we're playing?!" He was yelling at his client.

"No." Was Curry's meek reply

"The whole premise of our defense is that you've never killed anyone!"

"During a robbery!" Kid pointed out, feeling defensive now.

"A very fine line Mr. Curry!" Steven countered. "Mr. Jordan is paying good money for me to defend you, but how can I develop a good defense if you won't give me full disclosure?!"

"It wasn't murder!" Kid insisted, standing up now and striding over to the bars. "Bilson was self-defense! Even the Sheriff in that town thought so!"

"Well don't you think it would have helped us if we could have had him here to testify to that?!"

"It was years ago!" Kid pointed out. "I don't even remember his name!"

"Given time we could have tracked him down! It's too late now!" Steven stated. He practically growled to himself in frustration, then sighed and tried to calm down. "What about the other accusation? The one made by Mrs. Stanton? Did you kill her father?"

Kid looked down, suddenly feeling very guilty. "I might have." He admitted quietly.

Lom groaned. Curry looked over at him, knowing he had hurt his friend. Knowing that, just like Heyes he had let him down and wishing, not for the first time in his life that he could undo the things that he had done.

"I'm sorry Lom." He said quietly. "It was so many years ago. I was young and stupid and so full of anger and the need for vengeance outweighed whatever common sense I might have had."

Lom looked Curry in the eye. "Was he one of the men who attacked your family?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes." Curry repeated. "I'll never forget the look of fear that came into his eyes when he realized who I was. I'll never forget it Lom. Then it wasn't until after I shot him that I heard a child scream and then I saw a little girl over by the barn door and she was staring at me and screaming. It broke my heart Lom. Cause I realized that I had just done to her what he had done to me." He stopped and shook his head, full of regret. "I just looked at her for a minute, but I couldn't think of anything to say, so I took off—fast as the horse could run. I damn near ran that poor beast into the ground. I lost my taste for killing after that. Since then it's only been Danny and that was self-defense!" He stated the last sentence rather pointedly towards Steven.

Then the block door opened and Jesse came in to join the three men at the bars. Jed found it hard to meet his eyes; Curry felt guilty and angry at the time because he knew that what had been said in court would have disappointed those two young ladies who had held him in such high esteem. But he had also warned Jesse not to bring them, and he had so there was nothing more to be done about it.

"Thaddeus."

"Hello Jesse." Curry answered him quietly.

"Actually I suppose I should start calling you Jed shouldn't I?"

"Thaddeus is fine."

"Not according to the Judge." Jesse stated. "He made that quite clear at Han's trial."

"Well the way things are going you may not have to worry about what to call me." Curry mumbled. "Just whatever's on the headstone."

"Don't talk like that Kid." Lom told him. "It's not over yet and there's no way to tell which way it's going to go."

"Yeah." Curry answered, though he didn't sound too convinced. Then he made himself look at Jesse and meet his eyes. "How are the girls?"

"They're understandably upset." Jesse admitted. "But more out of fear for you than disappointment in you. I must admit they are both holding up better through this than I thought. They wanted to come see you, but I didn't think that was a good idea right now, so they're over at the café. David's keeping an eye on them."

Curry nodded. "How's David?"

"Quiet."

"Ohh, I know what that means!" Jed stated. "Same thing as when Heyes goes quiet—he's worried and he's thinking." Then he sighed dejectedly and headed back towards his bunk. "Well, I guess I can't blame him for that." He mumbled, and plunked himself back down on the bed.

"Why don't you eat some lunch Kid? Maybe you'll feel better."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, how about I get us both a cup of coffee then."

"Yeah, okay."

So the three men left the cell block, with two of them heading over to the café to go over testimonies for the afternoon's proceedings, while Lom got the coffee's and returned to his friend to keep him company throughout the rest of the break.

"Mr. Granger. If you would please call your first witness for the defense."

"Yes Your Honour." Granger agreed. "I call Sheriff Lom Trevors to come forward."

Again, Lom placed a reassuring hand on his friends shoulder and then approached the bench.

"Sheriff Trevors, if you could please inform the court how it is that you are acquainted with the defendant?"

"Of course." Lom agreed. "Well, as stated before, I came to know Heyes first and rode with him on and off for about two years before I met Curry. I was aware that Heyes had run with the Kid before we met up, but didn't really know their history until later since Heyes never really talked about him. We heard some rumours about Kid Curry, that he was building a reputation as a gunman and as far as I was concerned that was all the more reason to stay away from him.

"Then after one of our usual separations I heard that Heyes was up with the Devil's Hole gang and decided to join up with him again since Devil's Hole was a pretty safe haven for the winter. When I got there I discovered that Curry had had the same idea and that he and Heyes had buddied up again so I considered just moving on. I didn't like gunmen since the ones I'd come across were generally mean spirited and unpredictable and I saw no reason to believe that Curry would be any different.

"But by the time I got there it was already late in the season and snow was starting to fly, so considering I had a stake with me to contribute to the winter supplies and that I had always got on with Jim Santana and Heyes I was encouraged to stay. So I did. I figured I could just stay out of Curry's way until spring and then just see how things were then.

"As you can imagine, it's kind of hard to stay away from someone when you're all in the same bunkhouse together, so whether I liked it or not I was sort of forced into the Kid's company. After a few weeks went by I found myself starting to like the man and I realized that he wasn't anything like what I had thought. I found him to be a quiet, well mannered young man and though he certainly garnered respect for his abilities with a handgun, he wasn't arrogant or pushy about getting his own way. I never saw any display of an unpredictable or dangerous temper during that time, and still find it hard to understand how he would have warranted that reputation.

"It became apparent during that time as well, that he and Heyes were very close friends and had actually grown up together and had quite an intense history. I also discovered during that winter that they were cousins. The bond between them was obvious. So much so that I wondered why they had separated for those few years in the first place, but I never asked. If there had been a falling out between them it was obviously water under the bridge by then and that they had partnered up again.

"I stayed on with the gang for a couple of years, but then, during one of the winter lay over's I started doing a lot of soul searching and had decided that outlawin' was a dead-end and that I should try and get out of it and straighten my life out while I still could. So come that spring, despite Heyes trying to talk me out of it, I packed up and left Devil's Hole. As I have previously stated, I then approached a friend who was a lawman and he brokered the amnesty for me and I began working for him as a deputy.

"So, when Heyes and the Kid came to me some years later, asking for the same opportunity I felt that I should at least try to help them out. Unfortunately things haven't gone quite as smoothly for them as it had for me."

"No, obviously not." Mr. Granger agreed. "So, despite what you heard throughout Mr. Heyes' trial and what you have heard here this morning, do you still feel that Mr. Curry is deserving of an amnesty?"

Lom sighed and glanced over at his friend. Curry sat quietly, not quite sure what his friend was going to say about that.

"People can make foolish choices when they're young." Lom surmised. "I know that from personal experience. Heyes and the Kid made some very bad decisions which they both now greatly regret. But I also know from their histories that they were carrying around a lot of hurt and were acting out in response to that hurt and the anger created by it. No disrespect intended, but I believe that the sentence handed down to Hannibal Heyes was unfair and should be reconsidered. I also believe that despite some backsliding that both Heyes and Jed Curry are sincere in their desire to straighten out their lives and should be given an opportunity to do so."

Curry smiled quietly and nodded a thank you to his friend. He didn't know if Lom's statement was going to help him in the long run, but at least he now did know that Lom was still his friend and was going to stand by him.

"Thank you Sheriff Trevors." Granger said. "No more questions."

"Mr. DeFord, your witness."

Mr. DeFord approached the witness, shaking his head in bewilderment. Lom thought briefly that the prosecuting attorney had missed his calling and would have done well on the stage.

"I'm sorry Sheriff Trevors, but I find myself totally befuddled." Mr. DeFord admitted. "You feel that Mr. Curry is deserving of an opportunity to straighten out his life even after hearing testimony from two different sources that he is a killer—in fact, a cold blooded murderer. We have also heard from another source that he does indeed have an explosive tempter and that he is dangerous. So much so that Hannibal Heyes is apparently the only one who can control him. How do you justify giving that man a pardon?"

"Taking in to consideration the treatment Jed Curry received from Mr. Charles and others at Valparaiso I don't really think it's surprising that he would eventually fight back." Lom answered. "Actually, I would say that it is to his credit that he put up with it for as long as he did! I also recall Deputy Layton, who was with Curry continuously over an extended period of time stating that he never encountered an 'explosive' temper and what might have been considered 'threatening behavior' from him was brief and self diffused.

"As to the accusations of murder, we have only heard the one side of it on each account. I for one am willing to hold judgment until more information can be brought forth."

"Well of course." Mr. DeFord mussed. "You are his friend after all. Still, considering that Mr. Heyes so successfully hoodwinkled you I would have thought you would be a bit more cautious in dealing with his partner."

Lom felt his temper rising and told himself to stay calm, that Mr. DeFord was deliberately trying to get tempers high and the worst mistake was to allow him success at that.

"As I earlier stated; I believe that Mr. Heyes' sentence was extreme and should be reconsidered. As for deceiving me, he did what he had to do to help a friend and his refusal to name that person is more to his credit than his damnation."

Curry held his breath at this point, hoping that he wouldn't hear Clementine's voice come rising out from the assembly, indignantly demanding the right to be heard! Fortunately all was quiet from that quarter and he sighed with relief for the moment. Still, he would feel a lot better if the line of questioning would move away from that topic—just to be safe!

Fortunately the Judge intervened at this point, seeing a danger of the trial going off in the wrong direction.

"Mr. DeFord." Judge Parsons commented. "I would appreciate you returning to the trial of Mr. Curry. Mr. Heyes has had his day in court; there is no need to keep going back there."

"Of course, Your Honour." DeFord backed off. "I have no more questions."

"Your next witness Mr. Granger."

"Mr. Jesse Jordan."

Jesse once again made his way to the front of the courtroom and was sworn in.

"Mr. Jordan." Granger began. "You have known the defendant for some time now is that correct?"

"Yes." Jesse admitted. "I've known both him and Mr. Heyes for four years."

"And you have never been concerned about Mr. Curry being in the company of your family, even after knowing their true identities?"

"That's correct." Jesse agreed. "Neither of the boys has ever given me any reason to be concerned for the safety of my family when in their company. Indeed, both are very protective of the girls."

"Have you ever known Mr. Curry to display a violent temper?"

"No, never." Jesse answered.

"Have you or members of your family ever felt threatened by Mr. Curry, considering his unique abilities with a handgun?"

"No. Never."

"Thank you Mr. Jordan." Mr. Granger finished up. "Your witness Mr. DeFord."

"Mr. Jordan." Mr. DeFord acknowledged the witness. "I realize that when you first became acquainted with Mr. Curry and his partner you were unaware of their true identities, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct." Jesse agreed but feeling a little frustrated at the redundancy of that question.

"So you were unaware that no more than six months prior to Heyes and Curry arriving at your ranch four years ago that Mr. Curry had in fact, in the middle of the day, in the middle of town and in the middle of a crowded street did willfully shoot down and kill another man. In cold blood, Mr. Jordan! With women and children there to witness it! He did willfully shoot down and kill another man! BANG! Just like that!"

Here Mr. DeFord paused to allow his dramatics to sink in, and indeed a rising murmuring from the assembly suggested that he had produced the desired affect. Then he continued.

"If you had been aware of that fact Mr. Jordan, would you have welcomed those men onto your property and into your home?"

Jesse hesitated. He could see the trap being laid, but could not see how to avoid it other than to lie outright and that would be too obvious. He looked over at Jed and the two men locked gazes. Curry knew that his friend had no solid way out of answering that question, so he simply nodded and sent him a quiet smile to let him know that it was alright.

"Mr. Jordan?"

"No." Jesse admitted regretfully. "If I had been aware of these facts at the time, I would not have allowed them into my home. But that…."

"Thank you, Mr. Jordan." DeFord cut him off. "No more questions."

Jesse was angry. He came down off the stand with a tightened jaw and a hard expression. He couldn't look at the defendant but just walked straight back to his seat to face the disappointed eyes of his daughters. He sat down and heard David sigh beside him. Both men were very much afraid of the direction this trial was going in and Jesse more than anyone else. He knew he would never be able to forgive himself if Jed Curry were found guilty of murder and executed because he was the one who had pressured both Jed and Hannibal into facing trial in the first place.

Now Hannibal was living a life in prison and if Jed died…well things just couldn't get any worse. How could he go home and face his wife if that happened? How could he face his daughters—or himself? He felt sick. He needed a drink, a stiff one! Then he felt a gentle hand touch his arm and he looked over into the forgiving eyes of his eldest daughter. She gave him a sweet smile and he couldn't help but smile back at her. He gave her hand a pat and then held onto it with both of his and didn't let it go.

"Have you anymore witnesses Mr. Granger?"

"Yes, one more Your Honour."

"Fine. Call your witness."

"I call Mr. Patrick McCreedy to the stand."

There was quite a commotion along a particular row of seats as the big man stood up, and like a man-o-war in amongst row boats, he plowed his way to the aisle and lumbered up to take the stand.

Curry had been very surprised when Granger had informed him that ole' Uncle Mac had announced his intentions of coming to Cheyenne in order to have his say, as his health really was not that good anymore. Still, as Jed well knew, once Big Mac McCreedy decided he was going to do something, well dagnabbit—he was going to do it!

Mac sat down, squeezing himself into the chair and then sat there with his arms crossed and a rather challenging expression on his face. Jed couldn't help but smile.

Young Steven Granger approached his witness with some trepidation.

"Mr. McCreedy." Mr. Granger started. "Could you please tell the court when and how you came to know the defendant?"

"Sure." Mac announced. "Those two boys came into my town of Red Rock Texas about five years ago. They were in my saloon when I came in with one of my men to have a drink. There was a little bit of a confrontation and then, well, all three of them being young roosters got to huffin' and puffin' and the next thing I know my man was challangin' young Jones there to a gunfight! Ha ha!" Mac chortled at the memory. "You shoulda seen the look of surprise on his face when that dusty saddle tramp shot the holster right off its belt before my man even had a chance to draw! Yessir, I knew right then that those two boys might come in useful for some work I needed done. And they did."

"So you were not aware of who they really were at that time?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Nope. Didn't know and didn't care." Mac announced. "It wasn't until after they had completed that first job they did for me and had left town when the Sheriff came running up and waving those silly wanted posters. Well that's when he told me who they were. Now a good business man knows when to take valuable information and store it away for future use, so I just told that Sheriff that he was mistaken. That Thaddeus there was my nephew—and Joshua too, so therefore they couldn't be Heyes and Curry."

"And the Sheriff believed you?"

"OF COURSE HE BELIEVED ME!" Mac bellowed. "I OWN THE TOWN!"

Mr. Granger took an involuntary step backwards. Curry was trying really hard not to laugh. Mac's testimony may or may not help him, but it sure was high up there on the entertainment scale.

"Yes, of course." Granger responded. "So you found that Mr. Curry and his partner were ah…reliable in pulling off…or, I should say completing the jobs you hired them to do?"

"Of course they were!" Mac answered. "I wouldn't have kept on hiring them if they weren't!"

"No..no of course not!" Granger agreed. "So did you ever feel threatened by Mr. Curry at any time?"

"Threatened by my own nephew!?" Mac asked, incredulously.

"Well, he's not really…."

"Well I've come to think of him as my nephew—Joshua too! Good boys, both of em!" Mac expostulated. "All this damn nonsense about Thaddeus being a dangerous killer and having an explosive temper! HE HAS NO MORE OF A TEMPER THAN I HAVE! Sweetest mannered man I ever knew!"

"Mr. McCreedy." The Judge intervened. "I insist that you refer to the defendant and his partner by their legal names."

"WHY!?" Mac responded. "I know who I'm talking about and so do you!"

"Mr. McCreedy! Show some respect for this court!" The Judge insisted.

"WHY!?" Mac repeated. "After what this court did to poor Joshua! Best damn poker player I ever met—and an honest one too. You don't find that combination very often! No! I owe both those boys a lot—more than I can say, and since my letter apparently didn't hold much water I decided I better get over here and set things right! It's the least I could do."

"Why do you owe them Mr. McCreedy?" Granger asked him. "Did you not pay them for the jobs they completed for you?"

"Of course I paid them!" Mac answered all indignant. "You think I would try to swindle them out of their pay? When someone does a job for me, I pay them!" Then he calmed down and softened his manner. "No, I am referring to a private matter and I owe them a debt of gratitude that I can never pay back."

"And what was that private matter?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Well it's private! That's why it's called a private matter!"

Curry had his hand over his mouth trying oh so hard not to laugh. Lom looked at him with a very incredulous expression. "What the hell...?" Curry just shrugged, that's Uncle Mac!

"Mr. McCreedy, please!" Mr. Granger was practically pleading with him.

"FINE! If you must know." Mac agreed. "Well, Smith, now he—he found me a wife. And a good one too!"

A wave of chuckling came up from the assembly, everyone trying to imagine this bear of a man actually having a wife.

"That's important!" Mac insisted. "It doesn't matter how much money you have, if you've got no one to share it with! Yes sir! I owe Joshua a huge debt and Thaddeus too; they both had a hand in it. Then you go and send that boy off to prison for twenty years! That's just not right! No sir! So I knew I had to get here to make sure you didn't go and do something of the like to Thaddeus. He's a good boy, Thaddeus is! Good boys, both of 'em!"

"Thank you Mr. McCreedy." Mr. Granger said. "I have no more questions."

Then Steven Granger quickly made his way back to his seat, feeling a wave of relief hitting him in the knees as he gratefully sat down beside his client. Curry leaned over to him and whispered; "You did good." Steven rolled his eyes and let out a huge sigh.

"Mr. DeFord, your witness."

Mr. DeFord approached the stand looking a little pallid.

"Mr. McCreedy." DeFord began. "You mentioned that the Sheriff in your town informed you of their true identities and you did nothing about it?"

"Well of course I did something!" Mac answered. "I told the Sheriff he was wrong!"

"But Mr. McCreedy, you must have realized that what you did was illegal." Mr. DeFord bravely continued. "You assisted two known outlaws to avoid arrest. That is considered 'aiding and abiding' and it is a crime."

"Oh so what?" Mac answered. "This courtroom is full of people who aided and abided. I don't see any of them being arrested!"

"Yes, well…"

"And I'd like to see you try!" Mac challenged him, puffing his chest out like an old rooster himself.

"Yes, well…moving on." DeFord wisely decided. "The jobs that you hired Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry for, what were they?"

"Oh well, I was having a bit of a border dispute with one of my neighbours is all." Mac explained. "Smith and Jones, well they helped to get it sorted out."

"So they were successful then, I take it?" DeFord asked.

"Of course they were successful!" Mac reiterated. "That neighbour is now my brother-in-law so I would say they were successful!"

Outright laughter followed this announcement and the gavel went to work to quiet the assembly down.

"Was there anything illegal involved?" Mr. DeFord asked. "I understand that the border you are speaking of is the international border between the U.S. and Mexico."

"Sure is." Mac agreed. "But there was nothing illegal about it! It was dangerous, that's all. So I needed a couple of men who didn't scare easy. And I found them."

"And what did that job entail?"

"Simply to retrieve property belonging to me that had ended up in Mexico."

"So, to sneak across the international border and steal an item and then return with it to the States?"

"NOT STEAL!" Mac insisted. "It was MY PROPERTY!"

"Are you still in possession of this 'unstolen' item?" Mr. DeFord asked.

"Well, no as a matter of fact." Mac admitted. "My brother-in-law bought it from me fair and square. And I ended up with a fine woman for my wife—so everyone's happy!"

"Except that Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry crossed over an international border—twice—illegally."

"Oh so what!?" McCreedy demanded. "People are doing that every day. Nothing new there!"

"You don't seem to have much regard for the laws of this land Mr. McCreedy. Why is that?"

"Why should I?" Mac asked. "One thing about being rich is that you learn pretty fast that laws can be bent. They're fluid; you can make them go any way you want them to."

"Really?" DeFord commented dryly. "Mr. Heyes didn't find them very fluid."

"That's not over yet." Mac stated.

"As far as I am aware, Mr. Heyes' trial is over."

"You think that because his trial is over, that it's over?" Mac challenged. "I'm telling you right now; it's not over! It's not going to be over until the fat man says it's over!" Then he quickly looked to the Judge who was staring back at him with raised eyebrows. "The fat man being me, Your Honour—not you! No offense meant."

"Indeed." Commented the Judge. "This line of questioning is getting us nowhere Mr. DeFord. I suggest you wrap it up."

"Yes Your Honour." DeFord answered. "Actually, I have no more questions for Mr. McCreedy."

"Thank you." Said the Judge emphatically. "You may step down Mr. McCreedy."

Mac nodded, and then pressing both hands on the arms of the chair proceeded to push it down off of his amble hind quarters while at the same time trying to get to his feet. He finally managed the maneuver and lumbered back towards his seat, sending Jed a quick smile and nod as he went. Jed smiled back with a slight wave and then Lom looked over at him rather incredulously.

"So that's your Uncle Mac?"

"Yup."

"Geesh!"

"Yup."

The Judge gave a heavy sigh and then looked over to Mr. Granger.

"Have you any more witnesses for the defense, Mr. Granger?"

"Yes Your Honour." Granger answered. "I would like to call Mr. Jedediah Curry to the stand."

Curry groaned inwardly. The fun and games of watching Uncle Mac run circles around the attorneys was instantly washed away by the knot of dread that now attacked his stomach. He stood up and after acknowledging an encouraging nod from Lom, made his way to the front of the courtroom.

The Bailiff approached him with the bible and Jed placed his right hand on it and lifted his left. His right shoulder protested mildly at the movement.

"Do you swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"State your full name."

"Jedediah Edward Curry."

"Take the seat."

Curry settled himself into the chair and then just as Heyes had done before him, he found himself surveying the assembly for the first time since the trial had started. For him there were no surprises as to the familiar faces he saw looking back at him and he found himself smiling a greeting to Beth and Bridget and then to David. He couldn't see Clem, but he was sure she was out there.

Then Mr. Granger was in front of him and Curry took a deep breath and tried to relax.

"When were you born, Mr. Curry?" Granger asked him, again starting him out with easy non-threatening questions.

"Ah, March 6th, 1853."

"And were you born in Kansas?"

"Yeah, I was."

"So, your farm in Kansas was the only home you had before…the orphanage?"

"Ah, yup."

"And how many siblings did you have Mr. Curry?"

"Two." Jed answered. "A brother who was older than me, and a…" Here Jed hesitated and he looked down, his jaw tightening. "A younger sister."

"It is my understanding that you and your partner are cousins, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"In what way are your two families related?"

"My father and Heyes' ma were siblings." Curry answered. "Our grandpa came over with his family from Ireland and settled in New York State. My pa was in his late teens when they came over and he met my ma on the boat. They got married shortly after arriving in New York. My older brother was born there. My pa's sister met an Englishman shortly after arriving there." Then Jed looked up and smiled, a twinkle coming to his blue eyes. "That sure caused a commotion, that's for sure! Here, Grandpa Curry had packed up his whole family to come to the New World, to get away from the English—and then his daughter goes and falls in love with one as soon as they got there!" There was a bit of appreciative chuckling from the assembly over that one. "But it all worked out. Once our grandparents got to know Mr. Heyes though, he was declared acceptable. His folks had come over for much the same reasons as ours had—just trying to find a better life." He stopped again, and sighed at the irony of that. "Anyway they got married and also started a family right away. But things were tough in New York, especially if you were Irish so it was kind of a universal agreement that the Curry clan and the Heyes' would all move on to Kansas where there was land available for anyone willing to work it. Our folks were lucky enough to get a couple of good farms right next to each other and they settled in to life along the border."

"Was it a difficult life?" Mr. Granger asked. "Homesteading like that?"

"I suppose it was for our folks." Curry admitted. "But not for us young'uns. I mean, as soon as we were old enough, we each had our chores to do, but life was pretty good. We didn't know any different. As I recall, Han and I had a lot of fun." He smiled. "Ran pretty wild too, I'd say. Fishin' and ridin'. Had to be home before dusk though. That was the rule. Yup. Trouble along the border, have to be home before dusk."

"So you remember that?" Granger asked. "There being trouble along the border?"

"I remember being told there was." Jed explained. "I don't remember ever seeing any. Not until…well…that day."

Granger nodded. "And you were at home the day your farm was attacked?"

Curry nodded. He mouthed his answer, but nothing came out. He coughed. "Yes."

"And how old were you when the attack happened?"

"I was eight years old."

A sympathetic murmuring rose up amongst the listeners and then settled again.

"And your siblings, how old were they?"

"Ahhh, well, my brother was fourteen and my sister was five years old."

"What was the first indication of trouble?" Granger asked. "Do you remember?"

"The dog started barking." Jed answered instantly. "Then I heard my pa yellin' at my brother to grab our sister and get to the house. I was still in the house, helping my ma get breakfast going. I liked helping her. And she looked so pretty that morning. She was wearing that blue dress that was my favorite, cause the colour of the fabric matched her eyes so perfectly and when she let her blond curls fall loose, they'd frame her face real nice and she'd look so pretty."

Jed's voice had started to trail away, remembering his mother and it was so silent in the courtroom that even the mice didn't dare move for fear of disturbing the recital. He took a deep breath and looking up, saw every face in the place focused on him and then he felt a little embarrassed, talking about his ma like that. Nobody else thought it was silly.

"Take you time Mr. Curry." Granger assured him. "Whenever you're ready."

"Well, I remember hearing gunshots then, and horses galloping." Jed continued. "Everybody was screaming. The horses were screaming, my sister and my ma were screaming. I was screaming. Even the dog was screaming. I didn't know dogs could scream. I don't know what was happening outside, I just could hear banging and men yelling. My ma was at the window, shooting the rifle she'd grabbed from above the fireplace. Then I could smell stuff burning—wood and hay—and meat."

Jed stopped talking again and sighed, collecting his thoughts. He sat quietly, just looking at the floorboards, and when he continued talking, he did not look up, it were as though he was all alone and was speaking only to himself.

"The screaming had stopped outside, but my ma was still shooting. Then I guess she ran out of bullets or something cause then she turned from the window and ran over to me and she grabbed me and got me behind her and then she faced the front door. I remember, she was shaking and mumbling something—I think she was praying. Then the door burst open and ma screamed and started backing up, pushing me back with her. I couldn't really see what was happening. Then ah…." Jed stopped. Jaw clenched tight he was fighting for control. He swallowed, took a deep breath and ran a hand through his curls, but he didn't say anything, it was like he had come to a dead end.

"Oh jeez." Jesse mumbled, and thought; are we going to go through this again?

"Come on Jed." David whispered. "Don't lock up."

Then Curry took another deep breath and looked to the back of the courtroom, to his friends sitting there, as though he had heard their quiet encouragements. He looked at the two girls and smiled at them, as though apologizing for what he was going to have to say next. To his surprise they both smiled back.

"Then they grabbed her." He continued. "I got shoved back down by the stove and she was begging with them not to hurt me." He gave an ironic laugh. "They were hitting her and she was begging them not to hurt me. There were three of them." He stated matter of factly. "One of them pulled the table cloth off the table and sent all the dishes flying and they crashed to the floor. I remember seeing my favorite plate landing by the pantry and shattering to splinters all in slow motion. I don't know how that happened. Then one of the men grabbed her golden hair and pulled her head back and kissed her, but it wasn't a gentle kiss, not like when my pa kissed her. It was hard and cruel. Then he ripped that pretty blue dress. Ripped it right off her. He pushed her back onto the table and got on top of her and I didn't understand what he was doing, but she was screaming and they were laughing, and I knew they were hurting her!

"I ran forward and grabbed the six-shooter out of one of their holsters and tried to aim it at the man, but the gun was too heavy for me." And here Jed's hands were pantomiming the act of trying to hold up a gun that was too heavy for small eight year old hands to both hold the handle and pull the hammer back at the same time. He shook his head, feeling the frustration all over again. "It was too heavy. I couldn't aim it and pull the hammer back, and I couldn't reach the trigger and hold it too. It was too heavy.

"The men just laughed at me—called me a dirty little Jayhawker. They took the gun away and pushed me back into the corner. I could hear screaming and kinda realized that it was me doin' it and I was wondering where my pa was and why wasn't he coming to help?

"I don't know how long they were there, taking turns on the table. Time had no meaning. I just know that ma eventually stopped screaming and finally they were done and then one of them took his revolver and…and he shot her. I was sobbing, I couldn't stop. I tried to go to her, but they pushed me back again, laughing at me. Then I heard one of them ask;

'What should we do with 'the kid', shoot em?'

'Naw, leave em to burn.'

"Then they left and I started to crawl to my ma, but they came back again and I jumped back into the corner, but they didn't care about me. They had brands with them from the fires outside and they went around the kitchen, setting fire to anything that would catch easy. Then they backed out the front door and were gone.

"I didn't hear them leave or anything, I just ran to my ma and started shaking her, trying to wake her up. I didn't realize that she was already dead. All I could hear was the fire crackling and burning and the room was filling up with smoke and the flames were starting to spread. But I had to wake up my ma, and I was shaking her and screaming at her to 'please wake up".

"Then I started coughing and my eyes started to burn and it was getting hard to see. I grabbed Ma's hand and tried to pull her off the table, but she was too heavy and I couldn't move her and I was calling for Pa to come help—but nobody came. Then the fire was taking over and part of the roof had caught and burning wood was starting to fall on both of us. I had to let go of her arm, the fire was getting too close, so I grabbed her foot and tried to pull her towards the door that way, but I still couldn't move her.

"The heat was intense and the smoke was getting so bad, I couldn't breathe and I knew that I had to leave her. I had to, I couldn't get her out—I wasn't strong enough!"

Here his voice turned almost pleading, asking for forgiveness, for understanding as to why he had left his mother behind. He sighed again and continued, back to speaking matter of factly, as though reading a story from a book.

"I turned towards the door, and my feet got tangled up in her blue dress. Her pretty blue dress. I grabbed it and ran outside so I could breathe. I couldn't run very far though, only as far as the well and then my feet were hurting so bad, I don't know why, but it was agony and I couldn't stand on them.

"I just sat there in a heap while the house burned to the ground. Just sat there, sobbing and clutching onto ma's pretty blue dress. Until Han came."

Silence in the courtroom. Not a sob or a cough could be heard. Jed sat still, staring at the floor boards, his mind temporarily trapped back in that day.

Finally Mr. Granger got into Curry's line of vision again and brought him back to the present.

"Do you remember what happened after your cousin arrived?"

Jed shook his head. "Not very much, no." He admitted. "I remember thinking that 'thank goodness Han was here, Han could make things right' but there wasn't anything he could do. I remember going into town…I don't really remember how we got there though. And then being hungry and alone—I don't know where Han was. I was in a strange place. Someone had taken my ma's blue dress away from me and I didn't like that. And I was hungry and scared and I didn't know where I was.

"Then, I remember being at the orphanage, I didn't realize it was an orphanage at first, just some strange place, surrounded by people I didn't know. But then Han was there and we pretty much stuck together. So, that was our lives from then on."

"Do you have any strong memories of Valparaiso Mr. Curry?" Mr. Granger asked him. "Anything that epitomizes your life there?"

Curry looked at Granger, a little confused His mind was still thinking on the level of an eight year old.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Sums it up."

"Oh, Ahhh—hungry, all the time." Jed remembered. "And scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared of the other boys. Scared of the Matron. Scared that Han was going to get really badly beaten up for stealin' food. I often wouldn't tell him if the other boys stole food from me, or beat me up cause I knew it would make him mad and I didn't want him to get into trouble over me."

"Yes, I can understand that." Granger assured him. "According to Mr. Charles' testimony you eventually didn't need your cousin to stand up for you anymore. That indeed, again according to Mr. Charles, you yourself became 'dangerous'. Do you recall what transpired to bring about such a dramatic change in your attitude?"

"Yeah." Curry admitted, and again he sent a regretful glance back to the two young ladies sitting with their father and listening to all of this. "It was around that time when I became aware of what those men had been doing to my mother." He hesitated again and looked ashamed of himself. "I was filled with such anger and I remember just wanting to kill those men. But I couldn't, I was just a child, so I took my rage and frustration out on anyone who gave me half an excuse."

"Did it help?"

"No."

"Mr. Charles also stated that the only one who could control you during one of these rages was your cousin, Mr. Heyes. Would you agree with that?"

"At the time, yes." Curry admitted. "Han could bring me out of it, calm me down. I have since learned how to control my temper myself—usually."

"Still you and your cousin do seem to have a somewhat symbiotic relationship." Granger observed.

Curry sighed in frustration and sent a rather long suffering look towards his attorney.

"What does that mean?" He asked, wishing people would stop using those strange words around him. It made him feel like he was stupid and he knew he wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Curry." Granger apologized sincerely. "I simply meant that you appear to be very dependent on one another."

"Well yeah." Curry stated bluntly. "We grew up together; we've been through hard times together, watched each others back. That means a lot."

"Indeed, it does." Granger agreed. "And yet, a few years after you and your cousin left Valparaiso, you parted company. Why was that Mr. Curry? What brought that about?"

"Well…" Curry hesitated, trying to collect his thoughts. "We were with Soapy Saunders at that time, learning the con. But I wasn't really fitting in there. Heyes was a natural and Soapy was really grooming him to play the larger rackets, but I still didn't have a handle on my temper and Soapy knew it. He said that if I couldn't control my temper then I wouldn't be able to control the game so I decided to leave and go off on my own."

"Really?" Mr. Granger asked. "I find it odd that Mr. Heyes would have agreed to that. He knew you had a problem with your temper, he also knew that he was about the only person who could help you to manage it. Why would he let you strike off on your own at that time? You must have still been quite young."

"Yeah." Curry agreed. "We argued about it. He didn't want me to go off alone, but he didn't want to come with me either. He figured we had found a good haven there. But the rage I had inside me felt like it was burning a hole in my soul and I just couldn't settle there or anywhere until I found a way to calm that anger. I knew Heyes wouldn't let me go off alone, if I insisted on leaving, he would have come with me but he would have resented it. So I waited until he was off doing a job and I left. He was going to be away for a few days so I knew that by the time he returned, I would be long gone and there would be no way for him to follow."

"How old were you then?"

"Ahhh." Curry had to think about it. "I was sixteen."

"Sixteen, and on your own." Granger stated. "How did you survive?"

Curry smiled. "Oh well, Heyes and I had become quite proficient at survival Mr. Granger, it's not that hard when you know how. When I could find jobs, I took them. When I couldn't, I stole. It wasn't any different than being at Valparaiso. I had also become very good with a six-shooter. I decided that I was never again going to be in a position where I could not protect the ones I loved. I learned how to use a gun and ultimately, to my shame now, I learned how to kill."

A large murmuring of voices came up from the assembly at those words and Curry saw Lom's shoulders slump as he passed a hand over his eyes. Curry felt guilt and regret over the things he had done during those years on his own, and a huge pain over having to disappoint his friends. Not only his friends here in the courtroom, but Heyes as well, who knew none of this and might very well feel their friendship betrayed because of it.

"I tracked those men down." Curry continued, looking down at his hands. "Those men who had raped my mother; I tracked them down and I killed them."

Then, amongst the audible groans and sobs coming from various locations in that room Curry looked up and faced the assembly, the anguish and regret in his eyes apparent to everyone.

"Mrs. Stanton." He began again, fighting not to choke on his own emotion. "I know you're out there, listening to me and I know the hurt and the anger you must feel towards me. I know you don't want to believe that your father could have done such a thing, but he did. It was a time of war and the whole country had gone mad and people did things that…they would later regret. I know it probably doesn't mean anything to you, but from the bottom of my soul, I apologize. I am so sorry for what I took from you and I came to realize that I had no right. I only hope that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

Silence enveloped the courtroom. It seemed that everyone was in shock.

Finally Mr. Granger roused himself. He coughed to try and clear his throat and then quietly brought the defendant's attention and focus back to him again.

"What did you do after that Mr. Curry?" He asked. "Where did you go?"

"I donno." Jed admitted. "I just ran until the horse I was riding dropped out from under me. Then I don't know how long I lay in the dirt. I was tormented more than ever. The killing hadn't eased my rage; it had just added pain to it. Pain in the realization that I had done a terrible thing, that I had deprived a child of her father just as I had been deprived of my family and it was the worst feeling in the world.

"I knew then that killing wasn't the answer to anything, it only made things worse. I know I haven't lived a stellar life and I have made a lot of mistakes along the way, mistakes that can't be taken back. But in all the things I have done since that day, I've tried to respect and value the lives of others and to offer protection to those who were weaker or in need. It sounds a contradiction, I know, but even though I've lived the life of a thief and a gunman, I've tried my best to be an honourable man."

"Yes, I can see that." Granger commented and then picked up again with his questioning. "And when did you return to your cousin?"

"It was very shortly after that." Curry answered. "I felt lonely and lost. You are right Mr. Granger, Heyes and I were very dependent on each other. I had made the worst mistakes of my life when I was on my own and I felt that I needed to get back to the only family I had left. I tracked him down and was surprised to discover that he had left Soapy's tutorship shortly after I had and was riding with the Devil's Hole Gang by that time. I was worried at first that he wouldn't want me around after I had run out on him, but it couldn't have been further from the truth. He even told Jim Santana, who was running the gang at that time that he would leave with me, if Jim didn't let me stay on. So, we were partners then and we've stayed together ever since—until now."

"Alright Mr. Curry, thank you. I have no more questions for you at this time." Granger told him, and then he turned to the Judge. "Your Honour, I request that we adjourn for the day, I'm feeling the need to re-group and I'm sure my client must be feeling much the same way."

"Agreed Mr. Granger." The Judge answered. "I believe we could all use some time out. Court will commence tomorrow morning at 9:00 am."

Twenty minutes later, over in the cell block, Curry and Granger were having a conference through the bars of Jed's cell. They were trying their best to ignore the numerous voices coming to them from the front office where a number of Curry's friends were clamoring for the right to come back to see him. Curry himself was not feeling at all sociable and just wished everybody would simply go away and leave him alone.

"Tell me Mr. Curry." Steven asked him in a tone of utter frustration. "Are you intentionally trying to put your head in the noose?"

"Why would I do that?" Jed asked.

"I don't know." Granger conceded with a shrug. "Guilty conscience perhaps? That maybe you've decided you deserve to be punished. I would expect that my clients would actually wait until the prosecution breaches the subject before they open up and admit to murder."

Curry didn't answer him at first; he just stood with his arms and chin resting on the bars, staring into space.

"I guess I just felt that Mrs. Stanton needed something a bit more sincere than that." He finally explained. "I know I can never return her father to her, but at least I could willingly own up to it and tell her why it happened."

"Was it worth your life?" Granger asked him. "You are well aware of what this Judge is capable of. He doesn't hold much with the sympathy plea."

"Well then why but me through all that in the first place?" Curry demanded, straightening up from the bars. "What was the point?!"

"The jury, Mr. Curry." Granger explained. "If the jury can be swayed by the trauma you suffered as a child, then the Judge has no choice but to go along with their decision."

"Well that's just great!" Curry complained. "They didn't seem to have much sympathy for Heyes, did they!?"

"No they didn't." Granger admitted. "But now they've had a taste of public opinion concerning that verdict so they may hesitate to bring the same one down onto you. On the other hand pre-meditated murder is about as serious a confession as anyone can make. But—again, on the other hand there are strong extenuating circumstances." He sighed and shook his head. "It could still go either way."

"Great." Said the Kid, sounding frustrated. "I kinda wish you hadn't stopped the trial Mr. Granger, I just want to get this over with one way or another."

"I know. But you can bet Mr. DeFord is going to go for the throat, and I wanted you to have a chance to rest and recover a bit from today's testimony. I know it wasn't easy for you." Granger explained. "Get something to eat and try to get some sleep. You're going to need your wits about you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Curry nodded and turned to go back to his bunk.

"Do you want me to send any of your friends back to see you?"

"Oh, I don't know." Curry said with a sigh as he sat back on his bunk and drew his knees up. "I don't really feel up to discussing this anymore tonight."

"Okay, I'll tell them. I'll see you in the morning."

When Mr. Granger returned to the front office a number of sets of eyes turned to confront him and he held up his hands to quiet the barrage of questions that were thrown his way.

"He's tired." Granger stated. "He doesn't want to see anyone."

"Well he couldn't possibly mean me!" Clementine insisted.

"Miss Hale, he means everyone." Granger assured her.

"Well I can certainly understand the lad being tired." McCreedy growled. "I suppose tomorrow will do. We can celebrate his acquittal from all this nonsense!"

"Thank you Mr. McCreedy." Granger commented. "Now, why don't we all retire to the café for supper?" And here he smiled mischievously. "We can plan our next attack on the Governor's office."

This suggestion was met with a chorus of approval and the group headed as one out the door and into the street. There were however, two notable exceptions from this exodus which went totally unnoticed by the others. One was Lom Trevors who stayed behind to discuss the situation with Sheriff Turner, and the other was David. He had something to discuss with Jed, and the prisoner's decree that he didn't want to see anyone did not include his doctor. This was David's take on it in any case.

As the group left the office, David caught Rick's eye and indicated the desire to enter the cell block. Rick nodded and getting the keys accompanied the Doctor down to the one and only occupied cell in the block.

Rick unlocked the cell door and opened it for David to enter, but the Doctor lowered his head and said softly to the deputy;

"Come in with me."

Rick was surprised at the request, but entered the cell along with David and put himself on alert for anything to happen.

Jed, who was still sitting back on his bunk, sent the Doctor a long suffering look when suddenly David made a bee line straight towards the pillow setting on the end of the bed. Jed's expression changed to one of alarm and he was instantly on the move to get there before David did! Now if Kid had been at the top of his game he'd have beat the Doc hands down, but as it was the sudden movement caused sharp pain to shoot from his shoulder right down through his elbow and into his hand so that David was able to snatch that pouch of morphine out from under the pillow just a hair's breath ahead of his patient.

Jed didn't stop there however; he continued to come and would have had David up against the bars in an instant except that Rick was suddenly between them. The deputy grabbed hold of the Kid's shirt front and pushed him backwards across the cell and with an arm across Curry's chest, pinned him against the bars like a beetle on a display board. Curry fought against him for a moment, then realizing the futility of that attempt, sighed and raised his hands in surrender. Rick didn't release him right away however but still held him pinned against the bars while he sent an inquiring glance back to the Doctor.

"That's alright Deputy, thank you." David told him. "You can let him go. I expect he'll be fine now."

"Okay Doc." Rick consented and he released his hold. "But I'll just be out in the office so you give a shout if he tries anything and I'll hear you."

"Yes, I will. Here, better take this out with you." David said and he handed the pouch to Rick.

The Deputy took it and with a warning look to Curry left the cell, closed the door behind him with a clang and then exited the block.

David and Jed sent accusing glares across the cell at one another.

"Do you really think that I'm that big of a fool Jed?" David finally asked him. "Did you really think that I wouldn't check with Dr. Jackson to see what medications he's had you on this past month?"

"What difference does it make!?" Jed demanded. "According to popular opinion I'm a dead man anyways!"

David sighed and looked down at his hands for a moment.

"Tell you what." He said. "If tomorrow the Judge sentences you to hang then I'll give you all the morphine you want. How's that?"

"Oh thanks a lot David!" Kid returned sarcastically. "You're a real friend!"

"Yes, I am." David answered, looking Jed in the eye. "And you'd realize that if your dependency on that drug didn't have you running scared right now."

"I'm not dependent on it!"

"You lied to me."

"I didn't…."

"YOU DID!" David insisted. "You deliberately avoided telling me that you were still taking it when you knew that I wanted you off it completely! In my book that's lying!"

Jed started to lose his blustering. He pushed himself up off the bars and went to sit back down on the bunk again.

"Well I didn't see the harm in it." He mumbled.

"No, you wouldn't." Said David, also softening his tone at this point. "The drug itself is making you complacent. You don't need to be on it anymore Jed, but your body is at the point where it's beginning to demand it anyways and it's making your brain tell you that it's alright. But I'm telling you it's not, and I'm asking you to trust me."

"I just need it to sleep David." Jed insisted. "How else am I supposed to get through this night?"

"I'll give you some laudanum."

"Laudanum doesn't help!"

"GIVE IT A CHANCE!"

Silence took over for a few minutes while the two friends tried to get over being mad at each other.

"Well." David finally began. "I'm hungry and since I don't intend to eat alone how about I ask Rick to bring a couple of supper's over here for us?"

"If you don't want to eat alone why don't you track down Jesse and the girls?" Jed suggested with a tinge of sulkiness. "I'm sure they would appreciate your company."

David looked over at his friend, understanding where his moodiness was coming from and trying to be sympathetic.

"Don't you want company tonight Jed?" He asked him.

"Yeah!" Jed snapped back. "But he's not here is he!?"

David hung his head for an instant.

"I know I'm a sorry substitute for your cousin." He acknowledged. "But I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

It ended up being a rough time for everyone in the jailhouse that night. There were two young deputies putting in the night shift, but Rick opted to stay as well and tried sleeping on the cot in the back office. He still woke up every hour or so though and would make a trip into the cell block just to make sure the doctor was still alive.

Jed spent the majority of the evening pacing the cell and cursing, unable to relax or even think about sleeping. David sat on the floor with his back leaning against the bars and, with a grain of salt accepted every form of verbal abuse his patient chose to throw at him.

"You're a mean-spirited man David!"

"Yes, so my wife tells me."

"You have no compassion for what other people go through, that's for sure!"

"Yup, totally oblivious."

"That's why you became a doctor isn't it? So you could keep people under your thumb! Be in control! You like inflicting pain don't you!? Goodness knows you keep hurting me!"

"Well you sure have me figured out."

And so on and so on.

By midnight the verbal abuse had eased off and the pacing quieted down. By 1:00 a.m Jed had settled on his cot and the two men sat in companionable silence for a while. By 2:00 a.m, Rick came up to the cell for the umpteenth time that night, looking bleary eyed and disheveled himself, and gave a sigh of relief.

"Finally!" He said quietly. "Is he actually asleep?"

"Yeah, I think so." David answered, just as quietly. "I was beginning to think he would never shut up."

"You going back to the hotel?" Rick asked him.

"No." David answered with a sigh. "If you could just open up this other cell, I'll sleep on the cot in there. I don't want to leave him alone at all tonight."

"Okay Doc, whatever works."

And that's how Lom found them at 7:00 am when he brought in the morning coffee. Two friends, sound asleep, in jail.

"All rise! The Honourable Judge Henry Parsons residing."

"Alright, Mr. Curry. I trust you slept well. I also remind you that you are still under oath."

"Yes, Your Honour."

"Mr. Granger, do you have further questions for your client."

"Yes, I do Your Honour." Granger said, and approached the stand. "Mr. Curry. We arrived at the point where you and your cousin joined up again. Did you ever tell him what had transpired while you were separated?"

"No."

"Why not? Since those men were probably the same ones who attacked his home as well, I would think he would be pleased."

"I didn't tell him cause I didn't want to put that guilt and responsibility onto his shoulders as well." Curry explained. "I'm the one who did it; he shouldn't have to carry the blame too. I was also ashamed of it. I knew he wouldn't have approved and I just…I couldn't bring myself to tell him."

"So I take it Mr. Heyes was against violence?"

"Well yeah!" Curry answered matter of factly. "I thought that was obvious considering our history."

"Of course Mr. Curry." Granger explained. "I'm just trying to establish that the non-violent tendencies of your criminal careers were intentional, not accidental."

"Oh." Curry conceded. "Yeah. Heyes was adamant with the members of the gang that there was to be no killing. Even if they were threatened—never shoot to kill."

"That is certainly to his credit then." Granger commented. "So, obviously Mr. Heyes eventually took over leadership of the Devil's Hole Gang. Was there any grumblings about that from the other members, considering that Mr. Heyes was still quite young and relatively new to the organization? Obviously he had jumped the cue—so to speak."

"Yeah, there was some." Curry admitted. "Wheat Carlson had been second in command until Heyes came in and took over that spot. Then when Jim went to prison Heyes just kind of naturally stepped into the leadership position. Wheat wasn't too happy about that."

"Yes, I can imagine." Granger admitted. "Was there much of a threat of an up-rising from the other members?"

"No, not really." Curry explained. "Wheat didn't have much back up with that. The other gang members recognized Heyes' intelligence and leadership qualities, and the gang prospered with him in charge. If Wheat did start to grumble too much, well, I had a reputation by then and it didn't take much to get him to back off."

"So things were going pretty well I take it?"

"Yeah, they were."

"So what made you decide to get out of the business?"

"Well, even though we were doing pretty good, we kinda figured our time was running out, that maybe it wasn't a particularly healthy lifestyle." Curry admitted. "Then Lom switched alliances and though Heyes felt kinda betrayed by that at first, I think he gradually came around to thinking that maybe Lom had the right of it after all. Still, it took a particularly bad day and a little old lady from Boston handing me a flyer talking about amnesty before we started to consider it seriously."

"And that's when you approached you friend Sheriff Trevors about speaking to the Governor for you, is that correct?"

"Yeah."

"But my understanding is that you were not granted an amnesty. Is that not also correct?"

"No, that's right. We weren't granted it right away." Curry admitted, then sent a glance over to Lom, not sure about how much he should reveal of that arrangement. Lom just smiled and nodded at him to go ahead. Obviously the Governor wasn't holding up his end of the bargain, so why should they worry about it. "Ahhh, Governor Hoyt told us that if we stayed out of trouble for a year then he would consider granting us an amnesty."

"A year?"

"Yes."

"But it's been five years, and three more Governors."

"Yes, I know." Curry answered somewhat sardonically.

"And yet, you kept trying for it." Granger observed.

"It was important to us."

"That is certainly apparent." Granger said. "So what was it then that lead you to the killing of Danny Bilson? It must have been quite a serious offense on his part considering your desire for amnesty and your regret over the previous incidents."

"Yes it was." Curry admitted and his jaw tightened at the memory of what had transpired back then. He sighed and collected his thoughts, dredging it all back up again and not wanting to miss out on anything important or relevant. "Heyes and I had just stopped in a town that was putting on a bit of a fair. It was just a nice break for us—kinda fun you know. We watched a fast draw contest for a while and I was kinda tempted to enter it, just to make a few bucks but then this fella comes up and wins the whole thing hands down. I was relieved that I hadn't entered it then, cause he was fast and I wasn't so sure I coulda beat him. That was my first introduction to Danny Bilson.

"Any way, later on that day we got to talking with him and it seemed that he enjoyed a good game of poker as well, so we hooked up with another older fella by the name of Seth and settled in for a few hands.

"Well after a few hours of that, we got kinda tired of loosing to Danny so we just sat around for a while, having a few drinks and talkin'. That was when Seth—never did know his last name, just Seth—anyway Seth mentioned that he had a mine that needed working and asked if we were interested. It needed at least four fellas to work it right and he figured we were the ones.

"Heyes and I didn't have anything else on the go at that time, so we decided to give it a try, and Danny was in too, so that's what we did.

"We had set a goal for $20,000 and ole' Seth, he had a bottle of corn whiskey set aside to celebrate with when we reached it. It took us about three months but we did it and then had a high old time getting' knee walkin' drunk! At least three of us did. Apparently Danny didn't join in on the celebrating and after the rest of us had passed out well, he just helped himself to all the gold, all the food and water and left with all the horses."

"In other words, he left you to die?" Granger asked.

"Yeah." Curry agreed. "He left us to die. He was successful with Seth. That old guy, he just couldn't make it and he sure enough died out there in the desert. Me and Heyes, well we just barely made it. We were lucky enough to come across water just when we were about to give it up and that got us through.

"After that, well we were both hurtin' over Seth and just mad enough at Danny for his betrayal to track him down and at least try and get our money back from him.

"Unfortunately when we did finally find him in Matherville he had already used the money to buy himself a gambling house in that town. We tried to pressure him into selling it in order to pay us back or we'd go to the law and tell them what he had done, but he wouldn't budge. He knew I was fast with a gun and he already suspected that we were wanted and he called our bluff.

"I was mad. I was real mad. I was ready to call him out for what he had done to Seth, but Heyes talked me out of it. Giving all the right reasons about how we were trying so hard for the amnesty and that it wasn't worth risking everything we had been working for and all. So he convinced me to just let it go.

"But Danny had different ideas. We were outside, getting the horses ready to leave when Danny showed up lookin' for a fight. He called me out and he wasn't going to let it go. He made his move first, but I was faster, so…."

"You killed him." Granger stated.

"Yeah." Curry admitted. "The Sheriff witnessed it and knew that Danny had started it and that he had pulled his gun first, so as far as he was concerned it wasn't murder. So Heyes and I left town just as broke as we had been when we arrived, and I had one more killing to deal with."

"Alright Mr. Curry." Granger said. "I have no more questions."

Curry sighed. Here it was barely mid-morning and he was already exhausted. He just wished this whole thing could be over and done with. Then he found himself face to face with Mr. DeFord and knew that the worst may be yet to come.

"Mr. Curry." Mr. DeFord acknowledged the defendant. "That's quite an interesting story you've told us. Just out of curiosity, has anyone ever beaten you to the draw? Anyone?"

"Ahhh, yeah. One fella did." Curry admitted, having calmed himself down somewhat`. "A Bannerman Detective by the name of Gaines outdrew me once about five years ago."

"Really!?" DeFord exclaimed, feigning amazement. "A Bannerman Detective?"

"Yes."

"Well one up for our side then." DeFord commented dryly. "So tell me, Mr. Curry, if a Bannerman Detective outdrew you and actually had you in his sights, why didn't he arrest you?—or better yet; shoot you down where you stood?"

Again Kid fought to keep his temper in check. DeFord was really pushing him and Curry forced himself to answer the question calmly.

"He was unaware of who I was." Curry explained. "It was a minor dispute and we were able to settle it without gun play."

"How unfortunate, especially for Mr. Bilson." DeFord observed. "That the only person to succeed in outdrawing you was so ill-informed that he didn't realize who it was he had in his sights. It might have saved us all a lot of bother."

Again Curry declined to answer. He was beginning to find this baiting getting old, but then Mr. DeFord changed tactics once more and Kid began to sense a trap in the making.

"Mr. Curry." DeFord began. "Exactly how many men have you shot?"

Kid opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't just sense the trap anymore, now it was clearly laid out in front of him, but with no way that he could see to avoid it. Not without blatantly lying.

"Ahh…I can't really say." Jed admitted.

"Why not Mr. Curry?" DeFord asked. "Too many to count?"

"Well—no." Curry admitted. "Often I didn't have to shoot. Usually I'd outdraw my opponent so easily that they wouldn't have even cleared their holster. Just seeing my gun pointed at them so quickly would simply end it then and there."

"Well how admirable of you." Mr. DeFord commented. "Perhaps I should re-phrase the question. How many times have you pulled and aimed your weapon at another man?"

Curry shook his head. "I'm sorry Mr. DeFord, I can't say."

Mr. Granger groaned. Lom closed his eyes, shaking his head. This was not going well at all.

"Well let's make it a little easier then." DeFord offered. "How many men have you killed? Or is that number too high for you to have kept count as well?"

Curry swallowed almost feeling the bile wanting to rise up.

"Ahhh, four." He answered.

"Four? You've killed four men?" DeFord asked him.

"Yeah." Jed confirmed quietly, and looked to the back of the courtroom to the Jordan's' and the heartbreak in the girls' eyes just about made him sick.

"Well we know about two already." DeFord pointed out. "Please Mr. Curry; bring us up to date on the other two."

"The first was…an accident." Kid explained, looking down at his hands. "I was young, no more than sixteen. I was fast, but I wasn't accurate. This young fella, he saw that I wore my gun tied down so he figured he'd make a show in front of his friends and he started pushing for a fight. He wasn't very fast, I beat him easy and I was just trying to wing him or at least scare him off, but I missed and got him in the gut." A few groans rose up from the assembly. "He died a couple of hours later."

"What happened after that?" DeFord asked.

"I threw up." Curry answered bluntly.

"Yes." DeFord moved it along. "What about after that?"

"I left town. The Sheriff, he knew those boys and knew that they were trouble-makers so he didn't blame me for it, said he probably had it coming. But his friends were out to get me, so I high-tailed it outa there."

"Hmmm. How convenient that the local Sheriffs always seem to be around to witness these killings—and it's never your fault. What a shame we don't have any of these gentlemen here in court with us today." DeFord commented.

Granger agreed with that statement wholeheartedly, but Curry made no response; he was learning how to recognize rhetoric when he heard it.

"So that was the first." DeFord continued. "What about the second one?"

"He was one of the men who attacked our farm." Curry said. "It took me over three years to find those men, but I finally did. One of them I didn't need to find. Apparently he was killed the day of the raids on our farms. I assume it was over at the Heyes' place. The second one was a two-bit outlaw himself by the name of Clyde Ross. He was running with a band of thieves down Arizona way. Once he figured out who I was he came at me with a two by four yellin' that he shoulda cut my throat just like he did my brother's. That was the last thing he said.

"The third one was Cal Wissen who was Mrs. Stanton's father. And I'm sorry Mr. DeFord but the Sheriff wasn't around to witness those ones." Kid added, with a bit of heat. "Only his daughter witnessed the last and I don't think she has any doubt as to who's to blame for that!"

Mr. Granger groaned again. His client really was trying to get himself hanged. He was just about to call for a recess to get the man calmed down again, but then Curry managed to do that himself.

Kid sighed again, and then added; "The fourth was Danny Bilson."

"Yes, here we are back to Mr. Bilson again." DeFord observed. "I'm curious Mr. Curry. You claim to have lost your taste for killing after your revenge rampage choosing instead to slightly wound or—intimidate your adversaries into submitting. And yet you killed Mr. Bilson. Why didn't you simply wound him and leave it at that?"

"Because Danny was a killer!" Kid shot back, getting mad again. "Mr. Jaxton told you about the young cowboy Danny shot the day before. Well Heyes and I witnessed that shooting as well and there was no reason for it! That kid was no gunman, certainly no match for Danny's speed and Danny KNEW THAT! But he killed him anyways! I knew that if Danny and I squared off it would be to the death.

"I also knew that if I beat him and only left him wounded then he would come after me and knowing then that I was faster than him, it wouldn't be a straight up gunfight! He'd come at me from behind, he would not let it rest until one of us was dead!"

"Did Mr. Bilson know who you were?" DeFord asked. "Did he know he was challenging 'the great Kid Curry'?"

Curry's jaw tightened even more, but he tried not to take insult from DeFord's tone. He knew the man was deliberately trying to get under his skin.

"Like I said before." Kid answered. "He suspected, but he didn't know for sure."

"Well even suspecting." DeFord continued. "You would think that would have been enough to convince him not to challenge you."

"Not necessarily Mr. DeFord." Curry contradicted. "Nine times out of ten a reputation will cause the person to back off, but there's always that one who thinks he's faster, and wants the reputation for himself and Danny wanted the reputation."

"Well certainly, that would be quite a feather in the hat for the person who could out shoot 'the great Kid Curry'!" DeFord commented dryly. "But you don't know for sure that he knew or even suspected that you were a professional gunman. If Bilson was not aware of whom or what you were and you killed him, well that could be tantamount to murder, don't you think?"

Kid gritted his teeth. "It wasn't murder!" He insisted, his fist hitting the arm of the chair in frustration. "It was SELF-DEFENCE!"

"Temper, temper, Mr. Curry." DeFord reprimanded him with a slight smile.

Curry sent him a cold stare, but he still had enough wits about him to not send him his deadly one. He knew he had to calm down or Mr. DeFord was going to back him into a corner he would not be able to get out of. Just like he had done to Heyes.

"It seems convenient to me." DeFord continued. "That the only shooting you will admit was in cold blood is the one where we have an actual witness who has already testified to that, so you really can't deny it. The other three killings were 'accidental' or in 'self-defense'—according to you. But since we have no witnesses to collaborate that we only have your word that that is how they transpired. You claim that two different lawmen supported you in that it was self-defense, yet I don't see them here in the courtroom willing to testify to that. The other—you claim—was an outlaw who came at you in a threatening manner. But again—no witnesses. All we have Mr. Curry, is your word."

"That's how it happened." Curry insisted quietly. "Considering I have already agreed that the killing of Mr. Wissen was in—cold blood, why would I need to lie about the others?

"Well, one murder—considering the circumstances surrounding it, might simply warrant you a prison term." DeFord explained. "But four? I think you know that four cold-blooded murders cannot so easily be explained away. Four would suggest that you are exactly what certain witnesses here today have accused you of being; A cold-blooded and dangerous killer."

"You heard Mr. Jaxton's testimony." Curry answered quietly. "He described the gunfight between myself and Danny Bilson and told you that Bilson drew first. That backs up what I already described as how it happened."

"Yes it does." DeFord agreed. "But, by your own admittance, you were also aware that according to the Sheriff of that town, whoever made the first move in a gunfight was automatically the one at fault. You knew you could not draw first because then, even if you won you would be arrested for murder. Mr. Jaxton also stated that he saw you and Mr. Bilson in conversation, though he could not hear what you were saying to one another. Then, you apparently turned to leave and it was that action that prompted Mr. Bilson to draw his weapon. Now, the question that comes to my mind Mr. Curry, is; was it truly your intention to walk away, or was it a deliberate feint to push Mr. Bilson into making the first move, thereby absolving you of any guilt?"

Curry hesitated, trying to think of the best way to answer that one.

"It may not seem like it to a casual observer." Kid explained. "But being the one who walks away from a gunfight involves subtle strategy and the ability to read your opponent. Danny was determined to push that situation to a fight; I simply offered him the opportunity to do so. It was his decision to take it."

"Indeed." DeFord conceded. "And a fatal decision at that. I also find your explanation concerning the subtleties involved in a gunfight chilling to the bone. In fact I feel that it only serves to support the opinion that you are a calculating and cold-blooded killer and that it is past due for judgment to be brought down upon you."

"Do you think that I don't carry the guilt of those deaths with me every day?!" Curry demanded. "Even Danny Bilson continues to haunt me and will for the rest of my life!"

"Well, you can take some comfort in the probability that they won't be haunting you for much longer then." Mr. DeFord prophesied dryly. Then he sighed and looked to the Judge. "I have no more questions for Mr. Curry Your Honour."

"Thank you Mr. DeFord. Mr. Curry you may step down."

'Oh finally!' was all Kid could think as he pushed himself to his feet and returned to sit back down again beside Lom. He could feel the tension in the air and the look he exchanged with his friend was not encouraging.

"Gentlemen." The Judge continued. "Court will break for lunch. We will resume at 1:00 pm to hear your closing statements."

"Lom, will you please talk to me? You're hardly sent two sentences in my direction in just as many days!"

Lom had just secured Curry back into his cell and had turned to leave when the Kid's heartfelt request stopped him in his tracks. Lom sighed, tried unsuccessfully to relax his tense stance and turned to face his friend.

"I'm not mad at ya." Lom finally commented. "I'm just havin' a hard time adjusting to all a this." He hesitated and furrowed his brow, and then continued with a little bit of irritation. "No! Actually I am mad at ya! You keep quiet about all this for fifteen years and then decide to confess in the middle of a courtroom?! What the hell you thinkin'!?"

Curry shot up his hands in frustration.

"I know! I'm sorry!" Kid admitted. "But they already had me for Bilson and Wissen and I figured if I was gonna hang for them I may as well put the other two to rest as well."

"Kid, you don't know it's gonna go that way." Lom softened his tone a bit. "You just made it appear a whole lot worse by admittin' to the other two, that's all. And I just wish you'd a told me about it!"

"I didn't even tell Heyes, Lom!" Kid pointed out. "I was just….I'll never forget that little girl lookin' at me like that. Known what I had just done to her…what I had just taken from her. I guess I thought that if I didn't talk about it, it would just go away—that guilt. But it never did. I should'na done it Lom. He wasn't even armed and I shot him down in cold blood and if the law decides that I should be hanged for it—well, then maybe that's right."

"No Kid, it ain't right." Lom said. "There were extenuating circumstances with all of them, even Wissen. You were young and had witnessed a terrible thing. I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like, but I know it ate at ya and drove ya to do things you never would have dreamt of doin' otherwise. You're not a cold-blooded killer Kid. I know that—and so does Heyes."

Just then the block door opened and Steven Granger came in. Lom and Curry both straightened up from the bars where they'd been talking and addressed the lawyer.

"You need to talk to your client?" Lom asked, surprised. "Thought you were working on your closing statement."

"No time." Granger announced. "Judge has called the court back in session. Something's come up."

Back in the courtroom, everyone sat in strained anticipation of what new evidence had become available. Curry was racking his brains trying to think of anything he hadn't already confessed to that could possibly damn him even further than he had already damned himself. Nothing was coming to mind.

The court was brought to order and everyone waited anxiously.

"I apologize to the jury for calling you back into session so quickly." The Judge stated. "And I apologize to this court for apparently wasting your time." Then he sent a rather disapproving look over to the defendant. "Jedediah Edward Curry, you will stand and face the bench."

Aww Jeezzz, what's going on? The Kid was visibly shaking. He knew that all eyes were upon him as he pushed himself to his feet. He kept a hand touching the table in front of him just for added security as his knees felt as though they were going to give out beneath him at any given moment.

"It would seem, Mr. Curry, that Governor Warren has allowed public opinion to addle his brains! Apparently the law-abiding citizens of this territory are going to have to be satisfied with just Mr. Heyes paying the debt that you both owe! Be thankful Mr. Curry, for the 'lucky' twist of fate that brought your partner and not you to trial first, because as sure as I'm sitting here, I would have seen you hang before the next sun had set! As it stands, Mr. Warren has seen fit to grant you your Amnesty!"

Instantly the courtroom was alive with turmoil! The noise was almost deafening, from whoops and clapping and loud shouts of approval and relief to boo's and hisses to yells of anger and the pounding of fists on wood demanding justice be had! Kid himself just about fell over. He could barely believe that he had heard right! After all this time, it was just to be handed over to him in such a volatile and conflicting atmosphere such as this. It certainly was not how he had imagined it.

The Judge's gavel was working over time to bring the assembly to order.

"Court is not adjourned ladies and gentlemen! Quiet down and please take your seats!

It took a few moments for the gathering to heed the Judge's order, but gradually everyone complied and the courtroom quieted.

"The governor's office is still in the process of getting the paperwork in order." The Judge continued. "Mr. Granger, as soon as I hear word that they are ready, I will inform you and then you and your client will meet with the Governor at that time to get them signed. You will also need a witness Mr. Curry, make sure that person accompanies you. I also say to you Mr. Curry that in my opinion the outcome of this trial is a disgrace and I can only hope that you will realize the opportunity that has been handed to you and that you will not throw it away! But I warn you; if you ever stand before me in this court of law again, even for so much as expectorating in public I will make sure that the full force of the law and the punishment that you deserve will be delivered upon you—do you understand?!"

"Yes, Your Honour." Curry answered quietly, wondering how it was that he was still on his feet.

"The court is adjourned!" BANG!

Again, an eruption of voices and clamoring, and everyone on the move at once. Curry suddenly found himself in the midst of activity as people he knew and didn't know were assaulting him with hand shakes and slaps on the back

He heard Clementine coming "Kid! Oh Kid!" and then suddenly there she was with her arms wrapped around his neck and yet another very affectionate kiss planted upon his lips. This time he didn't even try to push her off and wrapped his arms around her slim waist and returned the kiss wholeheartedly accompanied by more back slaps and loud "whoops" from the numerous males in attendance.

If Kid had thought to look up however, he would have been met by one very horrified look coming from another particular young lady. Beth Jordan had rushed forward to congratulate her friend, when she was brought up short by someone else beating her to it. Who was THAT WOMAN kissing HER THADDEUS with such…well…such affection!? And why was Thaddeus returning it with such… well….such…well… RETURNING IT?!

Poor Beth just stood there with her mouth open not sure what to do or even where to look. Fortunately her sister was not deterred by the usurper and did not hesitate to cut in and present Thaddeus with her own congratulatory hug. So following Bridget's example, Beth then also came forward and the two young ladies ended up one under each arm. Clem backed off, not at all offended, but staying close and continuing to chatter.

Then Jed felt someone touching him on the shoulder. He turned to find himself face to face with Rick.

"Deputy." Jed greeted him.

"No." Rick corrected him. "Just Richard Layton. I have to get back to a ranch that needs tending to. If you ever need a job…."

"As a ranch hand?" Asked Curry skeptically.

Rick smiled. "Yeah, I know." Then Rick held out his right hand and Jed, unwrapping his arm from around Bridget's shoulders, grasped it and they shook. "Goodbye Mr. Jedediah Curry. And good luck to you."

Curry smiled. "Thanks." He said. "Goodbye MISTER Layton."

Then Rick turned and walked down the isle towards the exit, removing his deputy's badge as he went.

Then Steven Granger took the opportunity to nip in and have a quick word with his client.

"That certainly ended a lot better than I thought it would." Granger understated. "I know you and your friends will want to celebrate, but I suggest that you don't go far or drink too much. You will need to be sober to sign those amnesty papers. It shouldn't be too long before the Governor has them ready for us."

"Yeah, of course." Curry agreed. "I don't think we'll be going far. And Mr. Granger, thank you—for everything."

"You're welcome, Mr. Curry." He responded with a smile. "I'll come and join you soon."

He turned to leave, and then Bridget quietly slipped away from Jed and following Steven to the exit, she caught up with him and slipped her hand into his. He smiled at her and they left the courthouse together. Jed smiled at that himself and then did a quick scan of the room looking for Jesse. There he was, talking to Lom and David. He hadn't noticed his eldest daughter slipping away. There was going to be fireworks later!

Then Jed looked down at the young lady who was still under his left shoulder, with her arms wrapped contentedly around his waist. He was met with such a warm and congratulatory smile from his young friend that he couldn't help but smile back at her. Then suddenly he almost ended up going headlong into the floorboards when Big Mac, who had taken a little longer than everyone else to arrive at the front, gave Jed such a wallop on the back as to set his teeth to chattering.

"What did I tell ya!?" Mac expostulated. "The law wouldn't dare hang ya with me in town! Shoulda been here for Joshua! That's for sure! But that's not over yet! That's for sure, it's not over yet!"

"Hey Mac." Kid greeted him once he'd gotten his wind back again. "Good to see ya. And thanks for comin'."

"Anything for my two favorite nephews!" Mac insisted. "Just sorry I wasn't here for Joshua. He's a good boy, but that's not over yet—no sir!"

"Oh Mr. McCreedy, you are such a bear!" Clem stated in a teasing manner.

Mac instantly put on the charm. "Well, thank you Miss Hale." He said, tipping his hat. "Would you care to join me for some refreshment?"

"Why, Mr. McCreedy, how kind of you to offer." Clem accepted with a smile and a twinkle over to Jed.

"Now Uncle Mac, you be careful!" Jed called after them. "Remember you're a married man!"

"Beth! Where's your sister?"

"I don't know Papa."

Jesse was looking around with furrowed brow. The courtroom had pretty much emptied out now, but no Bridget in sight. Where in tarnation had that girl gotten to now? Keeping track of his two young ladies was like trying to keep two squirrels on a leash and it was starting to wear on his nerves.

"Well, come and help me look for her." Jesse told his youngest.

That young lady slumped her shoulders in disappointment, being quite content to simply stay where she was.

"You go on Beth." Jed told her. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you at supper and I need to talk to Lom for a bit."

"Okay Thaddeus." She agreed. "I'm so glad that everything has worked out."

"Yeah, me too."

Jed approached his two friends feeling a little apprehensive. He knew that all this had been very hard on both of them, and he hadn't been so far gone last night that he didn't remember some of things he had said to David. But as he joined them, both men turned to him with smiles and congratulatory hand shakes.

"Well Kid, has it sunk in yet?" Lom asked him.

Jed sighed and shook his head. "No, not really." He admitted. "For one thing this isn't the way it was supposed to be. Heyes should be a part of this. I never would have made it this far without him."

"I know Kid." Lom acknowledged. "We were just discussing that very thing with Mr. Jordan. We're not going to stop in our efforts to get Heyes pardoned. In the words of your 'Uncle Mac'; this isn't over yet."

"Yeah." Jed agreed. "Well, what now? I'm certainly not going back to that jail cell!"

Both Lom and David smiled at that.

"No!" Lom agreed. "We'll get you a room over at the hotel. Then you can get a bath and a shave and some clean clothes." The three men started to head for the exit. "You'd probably appreciate a beer too huh? And I must admit the ladies over at the saloon are all very pretty…."

"Uh huh." Jed commented. Then…"David?"

"Yes?"

"What's expectorate mean?"

TO BE CONTINUED

.


	13. Chapter 13

After-shock

Jed couldn't believe how nervous he was in that surrey ride up to the Governor's offices. He would have thought that after the events of the two previous days, nothing would phase him again, but he was sure wrong about that. Jeez, you'd think they were taking me on my last ride to the gallows instead of my first ride towards freedom!

Lom pulled the horse up to the hitching post in front of the main building and while a livery man quickly stepped forward to hold the animal's head, Lom, Steven and Jed stepped out and made their way up the steps and through the large front doors. The receiving area was of course, luxurious with high ceilings and fine paintings on the walls not to mention the hardwood floors and plush carpeting that would have made any cat burglar tremble with anticipation.

They were instantly met by another lackey who showed them the way into a spacious waiting room that was even more posh than the receiving area. One noticeable difference was that this room included numerous cushy chairs that silently enticed the visitors to come and sit and relax and not worry about how much time they were being forced to wait for their audience. In this particular case however, there was no waiting and the three men didn't even have a chance to indulge in the fine upholstery before the secretary, Mr. Higgins entered from another doorway and summoned them into the office.

Jed felt uncomfortable, as he often did when finding himself in an atmosphere of obvious wealth and power. Heyes had always been able to fit right in to this type of environment, almost as though he were born to it, but not Curry; it always made him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable. The governor's office was no exception. The smell of fine wood and the feel of carpeting, like velvet spring grass under his feet, not to mention the book cases and more paintings and the large oak desk and last but not least, the previously elusive Governor Warren stepping forward to shake their hands all combined to make Curry feel insignificant.

"Sheriff Trevors, how very good to see you again." Governor Warren lied through his teeth. He shook hands with Lom and then turned to the other men. "You must be Mr. Granger, Mr. Curry's attorney."

"Yes sir." Steven answered, shaking his hand. "Pleasure to meet you Governor."

"And now, the very elusive Kid Curry himself." Mr. Warren said as he offered his hand to the ex-outlaw. "What a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Ahhh, thank you, Your Honour." Jed answered, knowing he'd already probably said the wrong thing, and thinking how odd that the Governor described him exactly the same way as the Kid had been thinking about Mr. Warren; 'Elusive'.

"Please gentlemen, be seated." Warren suggested, and the four men settled in around the desk in order to get down to business. "Higgins! Brandy's all around."

"Yes sir."

"Well, gentlemen." Warren began, while Higgins went off to retrieve the drinks. "I gave the papers right here and all ready to sign. If you wish to look them over Mr. Granger I can certainly give you a few moments to do that."

At this point Higgins returned with four shot glasses of brandy on a tray and offered them around to the visitors before placing the fourth on the desk in front of his boss. Then he picked up the papers and handed them to Steven. The lawyer gladly accepted them, and placing his brandy on the small side table next to him, began to scrutinize the fine print.

"Ahhh, Your Honour." Curry began. "What about my partner, Hannibal Heyes?"

Granger paused in his reading for a moment, not sure if this was the right time to be bringing that up, but it seems his client was not waiting for approval from him.

"What about him?" Mr. Warren asked innocently.

"Well, the amnesty deal is supposed to include him as well." Curry reminded the honourable gentleman.

"Mr. Heyes had his trial and was convicted." The Governor explained. "That's the end of it."

"No it's not!" Curry insisted.

"Mr. Curry…" Granger warned him at the same times as Lom came out with his own; "Kid…"

Curry ignored them. "How can that be the end of it?!" Jed demanded. "Heyes deserves this more than I do!"

Mr. Granger was about to say more to his client, but the Governor raised his hand to stop him and then he sighed and turned to his secretary.

"Mr. Higgins." He summoned him.

"Yes sir."

"Will you please bring in the 'other' paperwork that is associated with this case?"

"I'll need help with that sir."

"Use as much help as you need."

"Yes sir."

The four men waited quietly while Mr. Higgins went off to run his errand. Steven continued to browse over the amnesty contract, but with the rising stress level in the office it was rather hard to concentrate. Fortunately Higgins was not gone long, as suggested, he did not return alone. He, along with two other assistants re-entered the office and then waddled over to the desk lugging large, bulging mail sacks obviously filled to the brim with correspondences. The three men promptly plopped the large bags down on the carpet and opened them up just enough to reveal a variety of shapes, sizes and colours of enveloped, telegrams and even parcels which then began to spill out onto the floor.

"This gentlemen." Governor Warren announced somewhat irritably. "Is actually just a sample of the mail that has been inundating my office for the past month! These are just the ones that we haven't had time to OPEN AND READ YET! We don't even have to open them to know what they say! They're all the same! People insisting that this Office honour the supposed deal that was made with Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry! I even had some boisterous rancher from Texas—TEXAS OF ALL PLACES! Barge in here like he owned the place, demanding that I stop your trial and pardon Hannibal Heyes right this instant! Continually expostulating about 'what good boys they are—good boys—both of 'em! Etc. etc."

Both Lom and Steven had to cover their mouths to not appear rude with their responses to that, while Curry sent the Governor an exasperated look as though to say; 'well then what's the hold up?".

"The problem gentlemen." Mr. Warren continued. "Is that there are almost as many letters and telegrams demanding that I allow justice to take place! That Kid Curry has to face whatever judgment is coming to him and Hannibal Heyes better just stay where he is! Not to mention I had representatives from the Railroad Commission, the Banker's Association and the Cattleman's Association all in here practically threatening my life if I dared to give Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes an amnesty!

Finally, in order to appease EVERYBODY it was agreed that since Hannibal Heyes had already gone to trial, been convicted and was incarcerated in the Territorial Prison that he could just bloody well stay there! That took care of the Associations and their followers. To hopefully quiet down the other side of the coin..." And here he sent a disparaging look over to the sacks of mail. "...it was agreed to give the other partner the amnesty. One of you had to be thrown to the wolves Mr. Curry. Perhaps you should just be thankful it wasn't YOU!"

Curry sat tight lipped with anger, the colour drained from his face and him just barely holding on to his self-control. Lom, seeing the very real threat of an example presenting itself of the explosive temper that Mr. DeFord had been trying to ignite all morning, quickly stepped in to defuse the situation.

"I think Mr. Granger and I need to take a few moments to discuss this with Mr. Curry, if you don't mind Governor."

"Yes, yes of course." Mr. Warren agreed. "But don't take too long over it gentlemen. I have a busy schedule and it's the only deal you're going to get."

Then the Governor nodded to Mr. Higgins and the government official and lackey's exited the office to give the attorney a moment of time with his client.

"Kid, what do you think you're doing?!" Lom seethed. "Now is not the time to get stubborn!"

"It's not right Lom!" Curry argued back. "How can I sign that agreement knowing that Heyes is the one paying for it!?"

"Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor Mr. Curry." Mr. Granger pointed out. "You sign the agreement now you'll be a free man and you can continue the fight along with the rest of us to get Mr. Heyes pardoned. You dig in your heels and refuse it, you can bet that Governor Warren will throw you back to Judge Parsons and then what help will you be to your partner then?"

"You best listen to him Kid." Lom strongly recommended. "Ya gotta look at the big picture here."

Curry sat back with a frustrated sigh, but at least his anger was defusing—thank goodness! He was struggling with it, it went against his grain in every sense, but he knew that his friend and his attorney were right and eventually he nodded assent.

Both Lom and Steven sighed with relief and then Steven went to the door leading out to the waiting room and announced their decision.

"Governor Warren, my client has agreed to sign the papers."

Later that evening, Patrick McCreedy had reserved a private dinning room in one of the finest restaurants in Cheyenne and everyone had settled in for one of the more enjoyable experiences that city had so far offered them.

Bridget and Beth had been quite elated at the prospect of being included in such a grand affair and giggled and laughed and spluttered a little at their first taste of champagne. Jesse sat between his two girls in the hopes of keeping an eye on them, but they still managed to have their own way in the seating arrangements. Bridget to his left had managed to maneuver a very co-operative Steven into the seat next to her, and Beth, to Jesse's right had accomplished the same feat with Jed. Both young ladies were having the time of their lives. David was seated on the other side of Jed, then Lom and finally Clem with Big Mac beside her.

Jed couldn't help but smile a little, watching Clementine rejoice in her element. Clem loved men. She had never married because she had yet to meet a fella who would make it worth her while to forgo all others. Even with Heyes and Curry, she was never able to say goodbye to one in order to commit to the other, so she remained free and flirted with all. Big men, little men. Rich men, poor men; she didn't care; she loved them all and flirted shamelessly with whoever would give her a free rein.

She happily gave equal attention to both Lom and Big Mac and those gentlemen were each greatly enjoying her company. Clem carried on an endless chatter about everything and anything, from boyfriends and girlfriends to her life in Denver. Then when her escapades with Heyes and the Kid became the topic of the evening, well then everybody joined in to relate some of their own adventures with the incorrigible duo. Yes, the great food the fine champagne and the stimulating conversation flowed freely and a good time was had by all—except one.

Jed Curry tried hard to join in on the festivities. He ate the food, drank the champagne and joined in on all the toasting and congratulating and the joking and all the spirited conversation, but his heart just wasn't in it. The one person of all of them who should have been there was locked away, shivering in a prison cell. How could Jed enjoy this fine dinner, this fine champagne and this fine company, knowing that? How could he be happy and content with his good fortune, knowing that?

Occasionally he would catch Clem's eye and through her happy conversation and giggling flirtations she would send him a soft compassionate hug across the table all encompassed in a warm look passing between them. She knew what he was going through, indeed all of his friends knew it and they each, in their own way sought to bolster his spirits the only way they knew how—in the offer of good companionship.

Gradually the evening began to wind down. Despite moans and groans of belts being too tight, desserts still found their way around the table and then everyone finished off with coffee's or brandy's accompanied by more sedate conversation. The topic of what Jed's plans were now came up, and he had to admit to being totally at a loss.

"Oh please come home for Christmas!" Beth got in there before any other suggestions could be brought forth.

"Ahhh…"

"Yes, Thaddeus." Bridget seconded it. "It would be wonderful to have you come for Christmas and why not Thanksgiving too? Momma would love to have you come and stay!"

Jed looked at them suspiciously. "Oh your Mother would love it would she?" He questioned with a smile in his voice.

The girls both looked a little ashamed of themselves. They knew that he knew that they were just using that as added pressure. Jesse smiled at his daughters' strategies.

"Still, they are right Jed." Jesse supported their suggestion. "You're more than welcome to stay at the ranch though the winter. Maybe give you some time to find your footing, and decide what you want to do. I seem to recall saying once before; if you get bored I can always put you to work.'"

"Uh huh." Jed commented skeptically. "I donno…"

"It might be a good idea Kid." Lom mentioned. "Maybe you should get out of Wyoming and lay low for a while."

"Why?" Jed asked his friend, a little confused.

"Well, it seems to me there were quite a few people in that courtroom this morning who were not too happy with the way things ended." Lom explained. "Seeing you out and walking about might just encourage some of them to consider taking 'justice' into their own hands. You don't need that kind of trouble right now."

Jed sighed. "Oh yeah. I never thought about that." He admitted. "And my shootin' arm sure ain't what it should be."

"If you come back to Brookswood for the winter we can certainly do some work with that." David offered. "Goodness knows if you want to be there for Christmas, you're going to be snowbound then anyways."

The two girls were looking more and more hopeful that their suggestion was actually going to be taken up, but Jed still hesitated.

"Yeah, but…"

"You can't get in to see Heyes anyways Kid." Lom reminded him, suspecting that this was the reason for him not wanting to leave the territory. "The three month ban on visitors won't be up until after the holidays and even then the weather could make it difficult to get there, even from Porterville. It'll probably be spring before you can get up to the prison to see him the way things are going."

"Yeah, if he'll even want to see me." Kid mumbled.

Lom furrowed his brow. "Of course he'll want to see you! Why wouldn't he?"

Kid just shrugged. "I donno."

Lom thought it was rather an odd thing for Kid to say, but then he dismissed it. David also thought it was an odd thing for Jed to say, but he didn't dismiss it.

Then, before anything more could be commented upon, the two youngest members of the dinner party yawned in unison and then began apologizing profusely, blaming the taste of champagne for their drowsiness. Jesse laughed.

"Yes! Or it could also be the late hour." He pointed out. "I think it's time for some of us to be retiring."

"Ohh, Papa!"

"We don't want to leave yet!"

But Jesse had made up his mind and—believe it or not—the hour was getting on to midnight, so high time his two girls were in bed. He started to get to his feet and his daughters, admitting to themselves that the decision was made, pushed themselves away from the table as well. The gentlemen present all stood to say goodnight to the ladies.

"Well, if Mr. Jordan is escorting his daughters back to the hotel, I believe I will join them." Clem announced. "It's getting late for me too, so I'll just leave you gentlemen to your brandy's"

"Oh Miss Hale, must you take your leave?" Mac complained.

"Oh yes." Clem insisted. "A lady must get her beauty sleep."

"Oh well, you have nothing to worry about there ma'am." Mac assured her.

"Why, Mr. McCreedy." Clem flirted. "You are such a gentleman!"

Jed rolled his eyes. Both of them were having fun playing their little game. Oh well, why not? Then he felt Beth's warm hand slip into his and give it a tight squeeze. Jed, surprising himself, felt a slight tingling of pleasure at her touch and smiled down at her.

"Goodnight Beth."

"Goodnight Thaddeus."

And then, finding himself taken by surprise again, she reached up and gave him a brushing of a kiss on his cheek. Her brown eyes smiled at him once more and then she slipped away towards the door. Jesse walked by, sending Jed 'the look' that all fathers send to prospective suitors to keep them remembering their place. Then Jesse heard Bridget give Mr. Granger a sweet goodnight, and his equally pleasant response and the parental figure thought with a sigh that there was another gentleman he needed to have a word with!

As Jesse and the ladies exited the dinning room David stood up and stretched.

"Gentlemen, I believe I will retire as well." He announced. "Mr. McCreedy, thank you for a wonderful dinner. Perhaps I'll see you all in the morning, over breakfast."

"Certainly young man!" McCreedy boomed. "You just keep up the good doctorin' you doin' with Thaddeus there! I might be needing him for a job or two in the future and I'd like to think that he can still look after himself!"

David smiled acknowledgment as Jed rolled his eyes. What did that mean?!

As David sauntered over towards the doors he motioned for Curry to come with him, out of earshot of the other gentlemen. Jed felt a slight twinge of irritation at this beckoning, but followed him over anyways.

"What David?" Curry asked him with a bit of an edge to his voice.

"How are you feeling?" David asked.

Curry sighed, his irritation growing.

"I'm fine!" He answered in a frustrated whisper. "Will you stop hovering over me like a mother hen?!"

"Alright." David agreed, not taking offense. "You have some laudanum, but if you find yourself feeling restless and still can't sleep, don't hesitate to knock on my door and we can talk for a bit. Okay?"

"David, you hardly got any sleep last night." Curry responded. "I'm not going to bother you!"

"It's no bother." David insisted. "I'd rather you wake me up than go out and do something—rash. So if you can't sleep and start feeling irritated, just let me know."

"Okay David!" Jed threw back at him. "I'm feeling irritated! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

David smiled. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning." Then he glanced over at the group still sitting and enjoying the last of their brandies. "Gentlemen—goodnight."

Jesse and David passed each other on the boardwalk leading to the hotel and said their goodnights to one another at that point. Jesse sighed in disappointment watching David continue on to retire for the evening, as Jesse would have like nothing better to do the same thing himself. It was late and he was tired too. But he was a man on a mission and one more thing had to be taken care of before they all went their separate ways for the evening.

As soon as he returned to the dinning room and poured himself a final brandy, he pulled Steven Granger aside and prepared for the 'father—suitor' talk.

"Mr. Granger." Jesse began. "I know that I am paying your fees for these two cases, which I am quite happy to be able to do. What I didn't realize was that those fees would include my first born."

"Oh…ahhh." Mr. Granger found himself without words. "Yes, of course. My apologies Mr. Jordan….I didn't realize….Oh dear."

Jesse smiled inwardly. Sometimes it could be fun putting these young bucks in their place.

"I believe I have the right to know your intentions." The parental figure continued. "After all Bridget is not yet twenty and hardly in a position to arrange things for herself."

"No, no of course not." Steven stammered. "You are quite correct. I should have spoken to you sooner, but it all came up rather quickly."

"Uh huh." Jesse commented and then waited. Nothing was forthcoming. "Mr. Granger, what are your intentions?"

"OH! Ahhmmm. Well, over this past month Bridget and I have become very involved." Jesse raised his eyebrows. "OH! NO! Not that way!" For an articulate lawyer, poor Steven was having a very hard time. "I mean with getting our strategy worked out and our assault on the Governor's office put into motion." He smiled at the memory of his visit to see the Governor earlier that afternoon. "And we seem to have been quite successful too." He added. "Still, we have a long ways to go. I have been needing an assistant and at first I thought that Bridget would fit well into that position…." Jesse's eyebrows went up even more. "No, but then I realized that that wasn't going to wash. A young woman like herself coming to live here on her own would certainly not be acceptable."

"You're quite right there Mr. Granger, it would not." Jesse agreed, enjoying watching the young man squirm.

"Then I thought, perhaps if I moved my practice to Denver…" Steven tentatively suggested.

Jesse found himself genuinely surprised at this offer. "You would be willing to pack up and move to another territory in order to continue seeing Bridget?"

"Well yes." Steven stated, as though that should be obvious. Then he realized that he wasn't really following proper protocol and taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and looked Mr. Jordan in the eye. "Sir, I ask your permission to formally start courting you daughter."

"Really?" Jesse responded.

"Well, yes." Steven repeated.

"And how does Bridget feel about this?"

"Oh, well, I haven't actually asked her." Steven admitted. "I just assumed that she would want to."

Jesse smiled again and laid a hand on Steven's shoulder.

"One word of advice Mr. Granger." Jesse told him. "When it comes to young ladies—don't ever assume anything."

"Oh, ahhh. I suppose I should…" All of sudden Steven was again feeling very insecure.

Jesse finally began to take pity on the young man and decided it was time to put him out of his misery.

"Tell you what." Jesse suggested. "I can't really give permission for anyone to court one of my daughters without their mother also having a say in it. And since she has yet to meet you, I'm afraid it's a no go at this point."

"Oh, of course."

"But." Jesse quickly continued. "If you would like to join us for Thanksgiving next month so that you can be formally introduced to my wife, then we can discuss this matter further."

"OH! Yes of course!" Steven brightened up. "Yes! I'd certainly like to come out to your ranch and meet your wife! Thanksgiving! Yes, I'm sure I can manage that!"

"Good, Mr. Granger. Good." Jesse smiled and they shook hands. Then he addressed the group. "Gentlemen, I'm exhausted! It has been a very busy and unusual day and I'm going to call it a night. Thank you Mr. McCreedy for a fine supper and I hope to see you all in the morning—or should I say, later in the morning since it is well past midnight."

Goodnights were said all round at that point, and everyone headed off to their various beds for what remained of the nighttime hours.

Curry paced and fidgeted and grumbled and paced some more. First time in how long that he actually had a real bed to sleep in and he couldn't settle enough to enjoy it. Damn that Warren! Who the hell did he think he was—playing with people's lives like that!? 'One of you had to be thrown to the wolves Mr. Curry. Perhaps you should just be thankful it wasn't you!' Damn him to Hell! That wasn't right! It wasn't fair! If one of them had to go to prison then it should have been Kid! Curry knew that! He's the one who had actually killed people; he's the one who didn't deserve to be the free man! Heyes never hurt a fly—at least not intentionally! And now there he was stuck in that bloody prison! It just wasn't right. Curry would have stood a better chance of surviving in prison, but not Heyes; Heyes couldn't stand being cooped up! It'll drive him mad, slowly but surely it'll kill him!

Curry felt ready to explode. There was no way he was going to be able to settle; he had to get out of here, find an outlet. He had to get out!

Steven had stopped by the jailhouse earlier that day and retrieved all of the Kid's meager belongings, and Curry grabbed them now. His gun and holster he strapped on, though he fleetingly wondered why he bothered since he'd probably just shoot off his own foot if he tried a fast draw—probably just habit to strap it on; made him feel complete. Then he threw on his sheepskin coat and his hat, made sure he had money on him, since what he had in mind wasn't free and then headed out the door, towards the nightlife side of town.

It was actually a beautiful night, clear and crisp with the stars like Diamond Jim's diamonds sparkling on black velvet, but Kid didn't notice as he approached the bright lights and loud tinny music coming from one of the local saloons. All he cared to notice about the night is that it was cold; he could see his breath and he blew into his hands to try and warm them. He could almost smell snow on the air. Winter was coming.

He opened the doors of the saloon, closed against the Wyoming night chill and entered into the warm, inviting establishment, welcoming all those who would rather drink and whore and gamble rather than sleep through the night. A few heads turned at the opening of the door, but quickly went back to their original focus as soon as the newcomer was recognized. Kid Curry was feeling mean; and it showed. Nobody wanted to tangle with him.

With barely a glance at the other patrons, Kid headed for the bar where a couple of local customers quickly shuffled down to made lots of room for him. He practically snarled at them in his irritation. The barkeep approached him, feeling safe in the knowledge that he was probably expected to do so.

"What'll ya have Mr. Curry?"

"Whiskey." Kid grumbled. "Bring the bottle."

"Yessir."

The barkeep went off to fill the order, returned very quickly with a bottle and a shot glass and poured the customer his first drink. Curry tossed payment onto the counter. He downed the first shot in one go, poured himself another and then finally turned to survey the room before him. He scanned over the group of people who made up the evening crowd and very quickly his gaze picked out the one person he was looking for. He caught the eye of the middle aged woman who was dressed like she owned the place and a subtle nod from him was all it took to get her headed in his direction.

"Well, good evening Mr. Curry." She greeted him as she sidled up to the bar beside him. "I hear you've had quite a day. Are you looking for quite a night as well?"

"Yes ma'am, I surely am." Kid agreed.

"Oh don't go ma'am-ing me." She said. "Name's Lucy honey, now you just tell me what it is you're lookin' for tonight and I'll see what I can do for ya'."

"Well first off, can I interest you in a drink?"

"You most certainly can."

Jed nodded to the barkeep to bring over another glass and he poured the lady a drink.

"You know what I'm lookin' for Lucy." Jed said to her as he downed his third shot. "Who do you suggest?"

Now Lucy, being the experienced and professional Madam that she was had noticed Curry the instant he'd walked into the establishment. It was part of her responsibility to look after her girls, so being able to judge a man's mood and temperament before sending him upstairs could make the difference between a mean drunk and a happy customer. She read Kid's mood right off the bat; he was antsy, seething almost and there was a slightly wild look to his eye, like a young stallion that'd been cooped up in a stall for too long.

Lucy did a quick scan of the room until she lighted on one of her girls in particular and beckoned her over. The lady in question smiled and made her way to them. She was young, but not too young, with long blond hair and smoky brown eyes. 'That's appropriate.' Kid thought and his eyes traveled over her tightly corseted figure as she approached them.

Mr. Curry, this is Caroline." Lucy introduced them. "And I think you will find her quite to your liking." Then she leaned in a little and added in a conspiring tone; "Caroline don't mind at all if you get a little—rough."

Kid smiled slightly at that, obviously Lucy did know what he needed.

"Howdy Caroline." He greeted her, looking at her everywhere but in her eyes. "How'd you like a drink before I take you?" Then his smile broadened. "Upstairs."

Caroline and Lucy exchanged a look. Caroline smiled back at her customer.

"Why I'd like that fine, Mr. Curry."

"Awww, Sweetness." He said as he poured her a drink into a glass that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "You best call me Jed, cause I intend to get real intimate before this night is done."

Caroline smiled at him and moved in close, accepting her drink and downing it in one swig. Lucy discreetly departed and left the two to get on with 'business'. After a few more drinks and a little more small talk, Jed tossed more coins on the bar in payment for the upcoming services and then took Caroline around the waist and steered her towards the staircase, he'd about had enough of the preliminaries. Lucy watched them head up to the second floor with a slightly concerned look on her face.

As soon as the couple had disappeared into one of the rooms, Lucy called over to one of her other girls.

"Suzy, sweetheart, do me a favour will ya?"

"Sure Miss Lucy, what's up?"

"You go up and settle yourself into the room next to Caroline's alright?" Lucy instructed her. "The customer she's with right now is in a mean spirit tonight. If she gives you the signal that it's getting too much for her, you let me know right away."

Suzy looked a little confused. "But what's the problem?" She asked. "Caroline likes it rough."

"Yeah honey, but there's rough and then there's rape." Lucy told her. "You just listen over her. If she gives the signal, you let me know, ya hear?"

"Yes, Miss Lucy." And Suzy trotted up the stairs to settle in to guard duty.

Heyes and Kid were on the run—again! Both their horses were going flat out but they just couldn't seem to loose that posse that had picked up their trail an hour and thirty miles ago. It was getting worrisome! It was flat open terrain so trying to hide anywhere was pointless and all the other tricks of the trade they had used to confuse their pursuers just weren't working.

The horses were getting tired, but Kid continued to push Buck as hard as he could. He knew his stalwart gelding was getting a little long in the tooth and these kinds of frantic races were getting to be too much for him. Buck was giving it his best, solid fellow that he was, but he just couldn't match Karma-Lou's speed. Heyes was holding her back, Kid could tell. Holding her back so as not to leave the Kid behind, so as not to get separated.

"Let her go Heyes!" Kid yelled at him over the sound of rushing wind and pounding hooves. "Let her run! GET OUT OF HERE!"

"NO!" Heyes called back over his shoulder. "C'MON! We'll lose them at the gulley!"

Kid kept on, pushing Buck as hard as he could while at the same time afraid that he was going to push his honest horse right into the ground. He kept his eyes on Heyes' back, following him at that breakneck gallop towards those gulleys up ahead and praying that Heyes was right; that they could loose this determined posse within those twisting winding trails.

The posse was getting closer; Kid could hear the pounding of their hooves as they closed the gap between themselves and the outlaws. He heard rifle fire and prayed that none would find their mark. They kept going, Heyes holding Karma back, Kid pushing Buck as much as he dared!

Then a different sound boomed out from behind them. A Sharps rifle let fly and the Kid lets out a silent scream as he sees Heyes' back violently arch over in an unnatural manner. Then he plunges forward into Karma's neck and tumbles to the ground. Karma, panic-stricken, keeps running. Buck charges past the crumpled figure, but Kid hauls ruthlessly on his mouth, bringing him around and sending him back towards his partner!

Kid doesn't even attempt to slow Buck down, but bails off at the gallop to plow into the ground beside Heyes and then scramble to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Kid can't see his face, he's lying on his stomach, but his back is a solid mess of blood and broken bone and shredded cloth! Kid screams! Then the posse's horses are surrounding them, galloping in a circle, encompassing them!

Kid stands and pulls his gun; he's in a fury and starts shooting! A horse goes down and then a man plunges to the ground and then another man screams and falls. Kid just keeps shooting, fanning the hammer and screaming his rage until the gun clicks on empty. Suddenly a horse plows into him from behind and he's sent sprawling to the ground, his gun flying across the dirt to land well out of reach.

The men are off their horses and diving towards the outlaw. Rough hands grab the Kid from behind, hauling him to his feet and pinning his arms behind him. Another arm circles his throat and squeezes until he can barely breathe! One of the lawmen approaches Heyes and with a toe under the outlaws shoulder, rolls him over onto his back. Kid groans and he can feel his throat and eyes burn as tears roll down his cheeks. Those dark brown eyes that were so often glinting with mischief and good humour were now staring dull and sightless up to the skies.

"He's dead, that's for sure." Smirked the man who had rolled Heyes over.

"Good!" The apparent leader responded. "One less to worry about!"

Kid groaned again, his yell of rage and torment strangled off by the squeezing hold on his throat. He tried to struggle, to fight back but the men held him firm and laughed at him. His sobs fought to come forth but all he could do was choke on them.

"That's $10,000 lying in the dirt there boys!" The leader proclaimed. "Talk about a good day's work!"

Then the jovial countenance dropped from his demeanor and he glared at the Kid and approaching the outlaw, he pulled his gun and brought the weapon down hard against the side of Curry's head. Kid gasped and would have fallen to his knees but for the men holding him up.

"On the other hand." The leader snarled. "You killed four of my men Curry! And you're gonna pay for that. Hold out his right hand boys! Hold it out there—let's see it!"

The men holding Kid started snickering and one of them grasped Curry's right wrist and pulled his arm away from his body, holding his hand out in the clear. Curry started to struggle, frantic to get away, knowing what was coming. But even through his terror and his anguish, he also knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it! He screamed silently, fighting against the unyielding hold but he couldn't break away and he was held firmly in place while the leader pressed the muzzle of his six-shooter into the palm of the Kid's trembling hand and pulled the trigger.

The Kid screamed, loudly and rent with anguish this time as the men holding him had let him go and he dropped to the ground, clutching his right hand and writhing in agony! He could hear their laughter, and voices in the distance, mocking him.

"C'mon Jed! What's the matter?!"

"Hey Jed! Settle down. There's nothin' to get upset about!"

And rough hands were shaking him and suddenly he awoke with a violent start and went for his gun that wasn't there and David's face came into definition. The doctor was standing over him, a gentle hand on his shoulder and concern in his eyes.

"Wake up Jed." David was saying. "It's alright; you're just having a bad dream."

Curry lay there, propped up on his elbows, shaking and gasping for air, fear and confusion in his eyes while he stared at David and tried to let go of the nightmare and come back to reality.

"It's alright Jed." David repeated. "You're alright. It was just a dream."

Jed let go with a huge sigh as his ragged breathing began to slow and the numb tingling gradually retreated from his extremities. He was on a train, he could tell that by the rocking motion and the clackity clack of the wheels rumbling along the tracks. He was lying on his back across two seats with his sheepskin coat draped over him and a makeshift pillow stuffed up against an armrest so he could sleep.

He lay back down feeling weak. It was daylight, but he couldn't remember getting on the train, he couldn't remember anything after leaving the supper party—the previous night? David smiled and giving him a pat on the knee returned to his seat across from the Kid, facing him. Jed looked over to him and then noticed Jesse sitting beside the doctor by the window, an odd expression on his face. Kid couldn't decide if it was concern, or anger.

Jed could then hear Clem's laughing voice coming from further down the car. Apparently they had the whole area to themselves. Beth and Bridget were sitting with her, delighting in hearing all her wild stories of her adventures with Heyes and the Kid, properly embellished, of course with damsels in distress and heroic heroes. Once Beth realized that Clementine was no threat to her designs on Thaddeus all three young ladies had quickly become fast friends and the animated stories were doing a lot to help pass the travel time away.

Clem had paused briefly in her narrative and all three had looked with concern over to where the three men where situated, the sounds of Jed's frightened cries instantly drawing their attention. But they soon returned to their discussion once they realized that it was just a dream and that Jesse wasn't actually taking the young man apart limb by limb.

"You alright now Jed?" David asked him.

"Yeah."

"Must have been some dream you were having."

"Yeah."

"Do you want anything?"

"No."

Then Jed pulled his coat up over himself some more and settled back into the seats to go back to sleep.

Jesse and David sat quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Jesse watching the scenery go sliding by the windows and David watching the prone man across from him. Both of their expressions were strained.

Then, when enough time had passed for Curry to have fallen back to sleep, Jesse picked up the conversation from where they had been interrupted by the violent dream.

"I donno David." Jesse admitted quietly. "I don't know how I could have thought that I knew these two fellas just based on the few days' acquaintance four years ago." He sighed and looked over at the sleeping man. "What the hell's the matter with him? I swear if he even thinks about treating Beth the way he treated that saloon girl last night, I'll kill him."

"I know." David answered sadly. "I can certainly understand your concerns about that, but try not to be too hard on him Jesse. Don't give up on him yet."

"Yeah, right." Jesse answered a little sardonically. "With all that stuff that came out in his trial and him insisting that he was sorry and he knows better now. That he has his temper under control now. Then he goes and does that! I'm beginning to think that rather than being under control, his temper has just been laying dormant, waiting for an opportunity to explode. And I don't want Beth anywhere around him when it does."

"Last night was totally out of character, you know that just as well as I do." David insisted. "And what happened was just as much my fault as it was his."

"Oh now David. How could it have been your fault?"

"Because before I left the dinner party, I knew he was depressed. I knew he was edgy. I could see it." David explained. "I tried to get him to talk to me but he just got angry and pushed me away. But I shouldn't have accepted that, I should have stayed up with him."

"You were exhausted." Jesse reminded him. "You were up with him most of the previous night and then we were all up late last night. Even now you look like you could use a few hours."

"Doesn't matter." David insisted. "I should have done something. Even parking myself outside his room door might have helped. I might have been able to stop him."

"Yeah, or he might have just flattened you and gone anyways." Jesse pointed out and then shook his head, confused. "What's gotten into him?"

"The last four months have been pretty hard on him." David mused. "He's very depressed over what's happened to Hannibal plus, I believe he's still going through a mild withdrawal from the morphine."

"Mild withdrawal?!" Jesse exclaimed. "You call that mild?!"

"Yes!" David was emphatic. "He wasn't taking enough of the drug for long enough to really become addicted. He was only just becoming a little dependant on it when I was finally able to cut him off." David shook his head with regret. "I'm still peeved at Dr. Jackson for continuing to give Jed that drug after I told him not to—and why! But he's an old-time doctor and doesn't really understand the dangers of these new drugs and he probably thought I was just being an old fuddy-duddy." David hesitated again, once more regretfully gazing over at his sleeping friend. Then he continued to explain. "Morphine is a wonder drug when it comes to sedation and pain management, but it's insidious. Over long-term use a person will become addicted to it without even realizing it's happening, until all of a sudden they can no longer get it, then, their whole world falls apart. They'll become stressed, agitated, abusive and often violent in their need for the drug. In extreme withdrawal the addicted person suffers crippling headaches, seizures, convulsions, vomiting, diarrhea—everything nasty under the sun. Some so bad, they can actually die from it. So, yes what Jed is going through right now, I'd call 'mild'."

Jesse was looking over at David almost speechless with shock.

"Oh my God." He finally exclaimed in no more than a whisper.

"Yes." David agreed. "So, like I said; try not to be too hard on him. He'll come round. I'm sure that by the time we get home you will have noticed a marked improvement. The holidays will be the hardest time for him. If we can get through Christmas without a crisis then he'll be well on his way to a full recovery."

"Yeah, well alright David." Jesse reluctantly agreed. "I'll give him some time. But he's got a long ways to go to redeem himself if he has any notions at all of courting my daughter!"

Heyes was trying his best to get through each day without getting into trouble This was not always an easy feat, since Carson or one of his lackey's was often on the prowl, looking for a fight. Not to mention Boeman. Being on the work floor had proved to be very challenging and Heyes was constantly having to watch his back. He'd sometimes smirk at the memory of thinking that riding the outlaw trail was getting too dangerous—too many people out to get them. But that existence was easy compared to what he had to deal with in here. At least on the outside they had some measure of control over their lives, but in here? He wasn't even allowed to fight back; if a guard came at him with the bully club he just had to take it or end up in the dark cell—and that was worse than any beating he'd ever had.

So, when one of the guards, Pearson he thought, approached him with the usual 'Convict, follow me.' His initial trepidation over where he was being taken turned to relief when he found himself in the laundry room and informed that he would now spend one day a week on laundry duty.

Heyes never thought he would ever look forward to washing sheets and ironing prison garb but that one work day a week that he could spend alone in the laundry room was just one more blessing that helped him to hang on. He didn't have to watch his back in there or not so much anyways and he could be alone with his thoughts. When he first started this duty his thoughts were still very much on his partner and how the trial was going. Carson's attempt at emotional torture had been successful for the first day or two, but when nothing official came down the pike Heyes had started to relax a little and to take some comfort in the idiom that no news is good news.

Then it came about that one evening after supper, Heyes was returning to his cell with a cup of coffee with the intention of reading the chapter 'Drug Addictions and its Consequence' when he noticed a paper lying on his cot. He set his coffee cup down on the small table, and picking the paper up, sat down to give it a browsing, and his heart was suddenly in his throat! 'THE CHEYNNE GAZETTE' stared him in the face. It was dated two days previous and was adorned with the headline; NOTORIOUS KILLER GRANTED AMNESTY! Heyes furrowed his brow. Notorious killer? What was that all about? He settled in and started to read.

He read it through quickly the first time, needing to find out all that he could as soon as he could and by the time he had got to the end of the article, he was feeling even more confused than at the beginning. He read it a second time, more slowly, trying to take it all in. He still was having a hard time digesting it. Kid had killed? Not once, not just Danny, but three others as well? Why had he never said so? Why hadn't Kid told him this? He settled in to read it a third time, his coffee cold and forgotten.

Finally Heyes lay back on his cot staring up at the ceiling, one arm up behind his head. He was a little hurt at first that Kid had chosen not to confide in him to tell him what had happened. What a weight for him to have carried alone all those years. Heyes finally surmised that Kid probably didn't think Heyes would have understood that he would have turned away from the Kid if he'd known. But Heyes would not have done that. It would have been hard, but he understood.

In fact it kind of made sense now that Heyes thought about it. After the showdown with Danny Bilson, Kid had been upset at the killing, but not devastated and Heyes had often wondered about that. Surely if that had been the first time that Curry had actually killed someone it would have been far more traumatic for him. But it hadn't been, actually Kid had seemed more—disappointed than traumatized by it and that had always struck Heyes as odd. But Curry didn't say and Heyes didn't ask. But now, it was all coming together and finally, it made sense.

Even back at Valparaiso Han had known there was something insidious eating away at his younger cousin. Those temper tantrums and ultimately the blind rages that would come on him, those weren't coming from nothing. What had happened to their folks had been hard on both of them but the way they each dealt with it had been in extreme opposites. Young Han had simply forgotten the worst memories. Buried them away in his subconscious mind not to be heard from again until they had been forced out of him at the trial. Jed, not being able to forget, had acted out instead. Releasing his anger the only way he knew how, by lashing out and then ultimately, by killing.

Heyes sighed deeply. 'Poor Kid.' He thought to himself. It must have been traumatic to say the least to have to bring all that stuff up in court! Oh, but at least he got the amnesty. Finally! Thank goodness for that! At least one of them was able to avoid this hellhole! Heyes wondered briefly how that had come about. Why did Kid get it and not himself? Heyes wasn't angry, or resentful about that, just curious. It was a good thing actually, cause now Kid would be doing everything he could to get Heyes out of here! Yes, this was a good thing.

Heyes tried to be patient as he waited for word from his cousin. He knew that the first Saturday after reading the newspaper would probably be too soon to expect a letter. Besides, the snow was starting to fall now so even letters and parcels would probably be delayed in getting to him. He'd just have to wait, feeling confident that he would get word from Kid sooner or later.

But as the weeks went by and letters from the Jordan girls and even one from Lom had made their way to him, and yet not a word from Curry, Heyes began to feel hurt. Why had he not heard anything? What was going on? Was Kid mad at him—but for what? Heyes couldn't understand. Why had his cousin not written to him?

Finally Heyes got tired of waiting and sent a letter to Lom asking that very question. The response he received back a couple of weeks later didn't really help to clear things up. Basically all Lom stated was that Curry was staying with the Jordan's through the winter so Heyes best try to get in touch with him there. He also mentioned, somewhat obscurely that Kid was going through a 'hard time'.

Well that kind of got Heyes' gander up. Kid was going through a hard time?! What about Heyes himself?! Talk about 'hard time'! At least Kid was free! Staying at the Jordan's through the winter—how could that be considered 'hard time'?! What the hell was going on? Didn't Kid know how much Heyes needed to hear from him? All the questions about Curry's trial, and what had gone on during their separation! Maybe that was it, Heyes mused. Maybe Kid was ashamed of what had happened and didn't want to face Heyes with it. Maybe. But come on! Heyes felt abandoned. Like his best friend had decided to just hang him out to dry

He became depressed and sullen to the point where even reading the medical journals weren't helping to raise his spirits. It was becoming too cold for the inmates to have much time outside and the wind and snows were blowing so he had also lost that relief from the mundane. The weekly sermons in the chapel no longer brought light or hope into his heart and he practically stopped eating so his weight dropped dangerously low. He had thoughts of suicide. HIM of all people! But what was the point of hanging on? he'd ask himself when his mood was at its lowest ebb. His best friend had abandoned him; he was never going to get out of here! Then he'd berate himself for allowing pity to cloud his mind and rob him of his courage and he'd pick himself up and carry on again.

Christmas was coming; it was just around the corner. Would that help to brighten his mood or just make it worse? They did not have to work on that day and there would be a special Christmas sermon for those who wished to attend. Heyes doubted that he would, why bother? Of course, word was that the Sisters of Charity from a near by convent would be making an effort to come to the prison on Christmas day to distribute gifts to the inmates. Usually sweaters and socks and mitts that had been knitted by caring citizens who felt a need to send help and hope to those less fortunate. That might make it worthwhile showing up for, Heyes supposed. Oh well, whatever.

So, the days slowly sent by. He continued to receive letters from Beth and Bridget and they delighted in telling him all about the goings on at the ranch. Bridget even mentioned something about Mr. Granger coming for Thanksgiving. Mr. Granger? The lawyer? What was that all about? There was some talk of Thaddeus being there, helping out at the ranch doing odd jobs, but that he often would disappear into town and not come back for days. Then they would make some comment about how Joshua must already be aware of that stuff, since surely Thaddeus was writing to him and keeping him up to date. Then Heyes would sink deeper into a depression again and retreat into his cave, shutting out everything and everybody.

Night time. December had come in white and cold. Christmas was a bad time for people who are already lost and lonely and Heyes dreaded the coming of that day this year more than any before. Even at Valparaiso Jed had been with him, but not this year. This year he was as alone as alone could be in his heart and in his mind and in his soul.

Heyes was lying on his back on his cot in his cell, staring at the ceiling he couldn't see. So many images had been fixed upon that surface—that surface that Heyes couldn't see—that if it had been the pages of a book, the stories it would have told of its current resident would have been an epic tale of loss and loneliness and despair.

Though there were no time pieces in the tiny cell, Heyes had developed a very keen sense of the passage of that line into the future. So many nights he had spent lying on his back on his cot in his cell, staring at a ceiling he couldn't see that he just seemed to know when he was at any given point during the night. Now, for instance, it was coming up on midnight. Midnight of Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve.

Heavy sigh. He was so lonely. So lonely. He missed his cousin, more than he ever would have thought possible. But Jed wasn't with him anymore just as surely as his own folks weren't with him anymore and his sister wasn't with him anymore. At least with his folks he knew that it wasn't their choice to be away from him—death is kind of a one way trip after all. But the Kid. Why had he shut Heyes out? Try as he might he couldn't understand it and the one letter that Heyes had sent to him remained unanswered. Curry retracting his support was the worse thing that had happened to Heyes throughout this whole miserable chapter of his life. Jed Curry was lost to him and the thought of that loss and of that precious connection that had been severed threatened to break his heart all over again.

He felt his throat tightening and the tears burning behind his eyes, threatening to spill out upon his cheeks. He quickly wiped a shirt sleeve across his face and swallowed down the tightness because he knew he could not afford to allow that to happen. Even here in the darkness and solitude of his cell he couldn't allow himself to cry because he knew that once the tears started they would be unending. If he allowed himself the luxury of tears here then he might not be able to stop them the next time they threatened, and the next time could be out on the work floor.

He dreaded to think what would happen if Carson ever caught him crying. He'd seen it happen before; one of the younger inmates who just didn't have the fortitude to stand up to the bullying had allowed the tears to come and had begged to be set free so he could go home. Carson's expression had turned to one of malicious glee and he had set upon the young man with brutal words and hard kicks until he had curled into a ball and begged for his mother. Heyes shivered; that was never going to be him, he was never going to allow the tears to come.

Heyes' mood changed from self-pity to anger as he thought of Carson and the things that guard took pleasure in doing. He was just another Morrison—no wait, Heyes retracted that thought. He was worse than Morrison. The Sheriff at least was honest, and it wasn't that he took pleasure in the things he did, it was just the only way he knew of to get the job done, and he did get it done there was no doubt about that.

Heyes looked back at the time he had spent in the company of the Sheriff and he had to admit to himself, that even if he had been trying to break custody, he would not have succeeded. Morrison had been a step ahead of him all the way, blocking every move the outlaw might have even thought of making. The only time Heyes might have succeeded in escaping was once he was in the Cheyenne jail and no longer in Morrison's custody. The fact that Heyes had decided not to leave then was a decision that he now regretted more than any other he'd ever made. Promises be damned.

Oh, he was heading back into self-pity again. He had to get away from that line of thought; he was going there too often these days. He rolled over onto his side and hugged his knees. This was a position he had been taking up a lot recently. He tried not to look too deeply at why he did it, he never used to want to sleep like that, but lately—well, he told himself it was just to keep warm since the temperatures were indeed getting colder. And it did help, in fact that was the position he was usually in when he finally would fall asleep and often the one he was in when he woke up again as well.

Snow was flying all across Wyoming and the temperatures were dipping below freezing. Heyes' three months of 'settling in time' would be over soon, but he came to realize that no one would be coming to visit during the winter months since travel was almost impossible and downright dangerous for anyone foolish enough to attempt it. It was going to be a long lonely winter—and cold too, with only the hope of a letter or a parcel actually making it through to him.

He thought of the Jordan's, naturally since they (and sometimes, Lom) were about the only ones to send him letters or parcels—the last one had been a nice warm sweater, thank goodness! And Kenny had made sure he got it too. He was wearing it now, and feeling the warmth it was providing he sent out a wish to them that they would have a nice Christmas, and not have it be marred by worries of him. Then he felt the pain suddenly hit him again as memories of one of the last conversations with Jed came back to him unbidden;

'Then there's Thanksgiving.'

'Yup.'

'Then, Christmas, sure would be nice to spend Christmas with a family again.'

'Sure would.'

Yeah, sure would. Well, not this Christmas. At least not for Heyes. Kid was obviously going to be getting his wish; Christmas with a family. Then Heyes thought back to the last Christmas he had actually spent with family, so, so many years ago. It had been wonderful. Little Jenny had been there, still sparkling brand new and Han remembered being so proud that he was now a 'big brother'!

It had been the Heyes' turn to host the Christmas dinner that year and the Curry's had come over in their sleigh in the early afternoon and everyone had been in such a festive mood. Han and Jed had spent the whole afternoon outside building a 'fort' and engaging in snowball fights. Then as the lighting had waned, coming inside to sit by the fire and drink hot apple cider until supper was ready. They'd all stayed up past midnight, laughing and telling stories and singing songs. It had been a great Christmas, and then Heyes' thoughts went back to his sister again.

What would life have been for her now if she had lived? Would she be married with children of her own? Would she be celebrating Christmas with her family? Would Heyes have even taken to the outlaw trail if he'd had a sister to look after? But what was he thinking—it would never have been like that! Han would never have known his sister once they ended up in the orphanage. Girls and boys were segregated right from the start, families broken up; siblings separated some never to see one another again.

Her life wouldn't have been much better than his now that he thought about it. Most of the girls went into arranged marriages right out of the orphanage and usually to a man who was much older than they were who was only looking for a vassal and a nanny. Those who weren't 'fortunate' enough to warrant an arranged marriage were left with two extreme options; the nunnery or the brothel. Any way you looked at it, it would be a life of servitude.

Heyes suddenly felt like a hypocrite. How many times had he enjoyed the services of a prostitute? Too many times to count really—and he had never thought anything of it. Never thought about what their lives were like, where they had come from or what had landed them in that kind of life. The only thing he could say for himself is that he didn't look down on prostitutes; on the contrary, he honoured and respected them. Maybe he viewed them as being from the same mould as himself—two lost and lonely souls taking comfort in each other.

Then suddenly he thought of—what was her name? Lorna?...Louise?...Linda?...No! Lindy! That was it! Heyes hadn't thought of her in years. Oh, in his minds eye she had been so pretty…so exciting. He had been sixteen when she had taken him into her bed. She was so much older than him…well he figured…twenty. But when you're sixteen and inexperienced, twenty seems so much older and boy…was she ever experienced!

She knew, of course she could tell right away that Han was new to this, but she treated him like a man and gently showed him the way. She had taken his virginity, wrapped it up in sweet kisses and returned it to him in a warm and sensuous package.

Heyes smiled at the memory of her, the scent of her and the feel of her and the warmth of her then he groaned at the uncomfortable urgings growing inside of him. No, no no—don't go there, not in this place. Thinking about stuff like that in here could really get a man into trouble! No, no, stop it! Ohhh…too late. The aching inside of him was demanding attention!

He shifted position so he could tend to his need but it wasn't an easy thing to do considering how bundled up in clothes and blankets he was in a futile effort to stay warm. But there's nothing like incentive to get a job done. Alone and lonely, in the utter darkness of his cold cell he managed to give himself some comfort and release from the stresses that had been building up day after day after day.

Then he relaxed. He sighed deeply, and closing his eyes, he lay back again, hearing his heart pounding in his ears and his breathing heavy, but the tension for now at least, was gone from his body.

Then he noticed that his mattress was wet—dammit! Nothing good comes without a cost! He shifted position again, hoping to get comfortable. He settled in, hands pressed between drawn up knees in an effort to get warm. He stared off into the darkness, feeling his respiration begin to soften, his beating heart slowly returning to a normal rhythm and he hoped that maybe now he could get to sleep.

It was well past midnight, he was sure of it. Christmas morning. It was Christmas morning and he was cold and alone and oh so very lonely. It was Christmas morning and he drifted off into a restless, desperate sleep.

The morning dawned cold and clear which bode well for the Sisters of Charity to actually be able to get to the prison that afternoon. The inmates were allowed an extra hour of sleep that morning but it was still a dreary and chilly operation, climbing out of bed and standing at the cell door for roll call. Everyone was hugging themselves and shivering. Heyes was certain he could see his breath.

Breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, well at least it was warm—sort of. Then off to chapel for morning services. Heyes wasn't sure if he wanted to go or not, but in the end decided that the alternative was to sit in his cold cell and read medical journals and he just didn't have the focus that morning to get anything out of that. So, off he went. If this was the Christmas he was going to have then he may as well make the best of it.

The service turned out to be uplifting enough to help Heyes to feel a little better. Then afterwards, Warden Mitchell stepped onto the pulpit to make his grand announcement. Basically letting everyone know that the Sisters of Charity had actually made it in to the prison and that they would be entering the chapel with gifts for the prisoners. The prisoners themselves were to stand quietly and wait for a sister to come to them and each prisoner would accept the gift that was offered and then leave the chapel and return to their cell. There was to be no talking. Do not speak to the sisters unless spoken to directly and under no circumstances was an inmate permitted to touch any of the sisters. Any infringement of these rules and the perpetrator would be spending the rest of the day in the dark cell.

Heyes kind of felt that this was all rather cold and impersonal for a Christmas gathering, but I guess, what else could be expected, he thought. Everything was cold and impersonal, may as well make Christmas that way too.

After a few moments there was a bit of activity over by the entrance to the chapel and then five nuns entered the small auditorium and began to circulate, handing out parcels wrapped in brown paper to each of the inmates present. The guards who had been unfortunate enough to draw duty for that day were very much in attendance and stayed close by each sister as she distributed her gifts.

Heyes sighed. He felt uncomfortable with this and was tempted to simply leave the chapel before receiving anything at all. He didn't like accepting charity; it made him feel—inadequate. He was just about to turn on his heels and leave when the sister approaching him all of a sudden looked very familiar. His heart skipped a beat and then fear shivered through him. Oh no, it was Sister Julia! Dagnabbit! Of all the nuns in all the convents in all the West, how in the world did she end up here?!

Heyes did a quick scan of the area, seeing if he could discreetly make an exit, but it was too late, she was almost level with him. Hopefully she wouldn't recognize him; maybe she wouldn't even remember him. He knew that his eyes were very distinguishable so he kept them looking down and away from her hoping she wouldn't know him. It was a typical stance for an inmate, to not make eye contact. It would be expected. It would be alright.

Sister Julia gently touched his arm and handed him a soft parcel—probably a blanket or something.

"Merry Christmas, young man." She said honestly. "Please accept this, and I hope it will give some comfort through the winter for you."

Again, Heyes did not look up or meet her eyes, but he smiled slightly in thanks and took the offered package. The Sister started to move away and Heyes breathed a sigh of relief, but then she stopped and looked at him more closely. She touched his arm again.

"Joshua?" She asked, almost incredulously. "Joshua Smith?"

Heyes groaned. Then the guard, it was Pearson again, spoke up.

"No Sister, you're mistaken." He informed her. "This inmate's name is Heyes, not Smith."

"No, it's Mr. Smith." She insisted. "I'm sure of it. Joshua—please, look at me."

Heyes silently groaned again. Could the degradation of his spirit plunge any farther? Must he be humiliated like this? Then he felt Pearson's bully club give him a smack on his butt.

"You heard the Sister Heyes, let her get a look at your ugly mug."

Heyes gave a quiet, resigned sigh and lifting his chin he looked her in the eye. He smiled slightly in greeting as he saw recognition wash over her features. She smiled openly back at him.

"It is you!" She exclaimed. "I thought so. But…Mr. Heyes?"

"Yes Sister." Heyes admitted to her.

Her expression changed to one of concern.

"Of course we had heard of the capture of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry." She admitted. "But we don't get newspapers at the convent, so we never saw any pictures of them. It never occurred to me that….does this mean that Thaddeus is really….?"

"Yes ma'am." Heyes answered. "Thaddeus is Kid Curry."

"Oh dear. This is surprising news indeed." Then she looked around, realizing that she was holding things up. She squeezed Heyes' arm and smiled at him again. "I must carry on here, but I will speak to you later."

Then Sister Julia moved on and Heyes felt Pearson give him a slight shove in the direction of the exit. With a final glance at the Sister's retreating back, Heyes turned and left the auditorium and returned to his cell.

Once there he settled back into his cot, and leaning with his pillow against the wall, he opened his Christmas present. Indeed, it was a blanket and a pair of socks. He smiled with pleasure and quickly removed his shoes and pulled the socks onto his cold feet. Instantly he felt the warmth start to invade his toes and he closed his eyes and sighed with the ecstasy of it. He could not remember ever receiving such a welcomed gift! He next took the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders and settled back into the comfort of his pillow again to enjoy the sensation of actually feeling warm.

After a few minutes of pure indulgence he turned to his table to retrieve the latest medical journal only to find himself staring at yet another parcel sitting there. Hmm, who could that be from? He'd already received the sweater from the Jordan's and couldn't think who else would be sending him a gift. Lom maybe?

He picked it up and looked at the writing on it—oh, it was from Clem! He smiled and quickly tore off the paper wrapping to find himself staring at a book "Around The World in 80 Days". Heyes had to smile again at that. Trust Clementine to give him a book about traveling when he was stuck in a prison cell! Oh well, it should be a good read anyway—might help him forget for a while that he was in a prison cell.

He opened up the cover and a letter fell out. Oh! Finally—maybe some news! He just started to tear open the envelope when he heard a rapping on his cell door and looked up to see Pearson standing there. Heyes sighed in disappointment. Dammit! Now what?

"Convict—follow me!"

Heyes tucked the letter back inside the book and placed them both back on the table. He swung his legs off the cot and quickly put his shoes back on before standing up and following the guard to where ever they were going.

Heyes found himself being led into an area that he hadn't been in before. Pearson unlocked a door and ushered Heyes into a small room where there was a bench and numerous sets of shackles and leg irons hanging on the wall. Another guard, Murrey came in after them and stood to the side, holding a rifle and watching every move that Heyes made. Heyes was starting to feel nervous; what was going on?

"Up against the wall convict." Pearson instructed him. "Hands above your head."

Heyes complied. He felt Pearson put pressure between his shoulder blades, pushing him into the wall even more, and then whacking his legs apart with the bully club. When Pearson was satisfied with the inmates positioning he then proceeded to give him a very thorough search. Heyes was confused. He hadn't had a patting down like this since Morrison. What were they looking for? Did they think he had stolen something? This was all very strange.

Pearson was finished with the search quite quickly, but he hadn't given any instruction so Heyes stayed where he was. Then the guard wrapped that damn belt with the shackles attached to it around Heyes' waist and snuggly cinched it up. Was he going somewhere? In this weather?! Oh crap!

"Turn around."

Heyes did so and his hands were quickly snapped into the cuffs down at the belt. Then Pearson squatted and clamped the leg irons around Heyes' ankles, and then he stood up, bringing the length of chain with him and attaching it to the belt. He grabbed Heyes' arm, turned him towards another door and shuffled him off into the next room.

The first thing Heyes noticed was a table in the center of the room with two chairs setting on either side of it. The next thing he noticed was that this room was actually warm to the point where he would have considered pulling off the sweater he was wearing underneath his prison garb if his hands had been free to do so.

He was then escorted over to the chair closest to him and indicated to sit down. He did so and then Pearson turned and walked back the way they had come. Heyes turned his head to watch him leave and close the door behind him. But Murrey was still there, rifle in hand, standing by the door. Hmmm. Heyes turned forward again and stared at the empty chair setting across the table from him. Was this to be another interview with the Warden? Heyes hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long.

Then another door directly across from him opened wide and Sister Julia walked in. Ohhh, a visitor! That's what this was all about. All they had to do was say so! The Sister met his eye and smiled openly. Heyes smiled back, no longer feeling embarrassed by his predicament and actually looking forward to being able to have a real conversation with someone. Sister Julia quickly walked over to the table and sat down in the second chair. She had a book with her.

"Joshua…"She greeted him, and then hesitated. "Or I suppose I should call you Mr. Heyes now."

"It doesn't matter Sister." Heyes told her. "Whichever one you're comfortable with."

"Well." She smiled. "Joshua then."

Heyes grinned foolishly. It was actually good to see her. Proof that life still did exist 'out there'.

"I have brought you a gift." She said.

"Another one Sister?"

"The previous one was from the convent." Sister Julia explained. "This one is a more personal gift, from me to you. I seem to recall that you enjoyed reading, so I thought you might like this. It's not a new copy, but it is intact." She presented him with the book she had been holding and waited for him to accept it. The table blocked the view of his hands so she could not see that he was shackled. He smiled a little self-consciously and then shook his hands, causing the chains to rattle a little.

"I'm afraid I'm a little confined here Sister." He explained to her. "If you could just put it down on the table I'll be sure to pick it up when I leave."

"Oh of course!" She said. "I'm sorry, I should have realized."

Heyes shrugged politely, dismissing her apology; how could she have known? She placed the book down on the table in front of him. He leaned forward to read the title and smiled with pleasure.

"Ohhh, 'Gulliver's Travels'! Thank you."

"I wasn't sure if you had already read it, but if you have, I always felt that a good book is worth visiting again."

"Yes, I have read it before." Heyes admitted. "But I agree; it's worth another visit. Like going to see an old friend."

"Speaking of friends." Sister Julia asked. "How is Thaddeus?"

The smile dropped from Heyes' face and the Sister was puzzled, seeing pain flicker through his eyes.

"I don't know how he is Sister." Heyes admitted softly, a slight, nearly imperceptible tremor in his voice. "I haven't heard from him."

"Really?" She asked, surprised. "I was under the impression that the two of you were close."

"Yeah. So was I." He looked down at his shackled hands, avoiding her eyes. There it was again; that tightness in his throat. He really did need to toughen up!

Sister Julia smiled sadly at him, his torment obvious to her. She wanted so much to go to him, to take him in her arms and hug his loneliness away, but she had been informed that she was not permitted to approach the inmate. There was to be no physical contact. But even so, her compassion for his predicament won out and she reached out a hand towards him, trying to offer some solace.

Instantly there was a discreet cough from the guard at the door and the Sister glanced over at him. He shook his head. Physical contact was not permitted.

Still, the reminder from Murrey brought Heyes up out of his musings and he smiled, trying to brighten his mood.

"It's alright Sister." He told her. "Thaddeus has a chance at a real life now. I can't blame him for wanting to go after that."

"Well, hopefully you will hear from him soon." The Sister said, encouragingly. "But in the mean time, are you permitted to write letters?"

"Yes Sister. One a week."

"Good!" She responded. "I will send you a letter with the address to the convent in it. I expect to hear from you Mr. Smith—on a regular basis!"

Heyes' smile was genuine. "Yes ma'am." He agreed.

"Good! Now, I had best be going." She announced. "The other sisters are waiting for me."

"Oh. Yes of course." Heyes accepted that. "Thank you for coming Sister. Thank you again for the gifts—and I will write!"

"I'll look forward to hearing from you." She said as she got to her feet. "Goodbye for now Joshua."

Heyes started to get to his feet as well, as any gentleman would do, but was instantly reprimanded.

"Stay where you are Heyes!" Murrey ordered him. "Don't move."

Heyes settled back into the chair with a sigh and an apologetic smile to the Sister. Sister Julia sent him an understanding nod and then she was gone. Gone out the door, gone out of the prison, gone out to freedom and a life worth living. Heyes was returned to his cell.

He wrapped his new blanket around him again and settled back into his pillow in order to read Clem's letter. He smiled as he read it; she wrote just like she talked, high energy and all over the place. A lot of what she said was repeat, talking about Kid's trial but from a totally different slant than the narrative from Lom so it helped to fill in some more of the blanks. He was surprised to learn that Patrick McCreedy had shown up and giving quite the boisterous statement—even putting the Judge in his place! Well good for him, Heyes thought, nobody like good ole' Uncle Mac to barge in there and stir things up!

Heyes wondered fleetingly how things would have gone differently if their attempts at playing cupid had not worked out, if Mac ended up married to a shrew of a wife! Geesh, Heyes and Kid probably would have both ended up swinging from the gallows! As it was it all worked out well for Kid and Clem was insisting that Mac wasn't going to give up on Heyes either. Heyes wasn't to loose hope; nobody was going to be giving up on him. Well, nobody but Kid, Heyes thought.

He was also surprised to read that Clem and the Jordan girls (maybe he should be calling them ladies now) had struck up quite the friendship. Apparently Bridget, who was contemplating taking a job in Denver come spring, was planning on moving in with Clem at first, until she could find her own footing. Bridget's parents were only persuaded to allow Bridget to take the job if she had a place to stay and would have a chaperone. Heyes laughed at that. Maybe he should write to Jesse to warn him about Clem. She just might lead Bridget astray herself! Oh well, those two ladies might be good for each other.

Then Clem's letter turned more serious and she began reprimanding, not Heyes, but Kid. She just couldn't understand why Kid was behaving the way he was! Clem would have thought that he would be happy, that he'd be relieved, but instead he was sullen and miserable and going off and getting drunk all the time. Dr. Gibson was at a total loss, Mr. Jordan was ready to wring his neck. Jed Curry was turning into a regular bastard!

He'd also been spending way too much time at the brothel in town. This seems to have been very upsetting to Beth who apparently has designs on him herself and can't understand what he could be getting from 'those girls' that he couldn't get from her! At which point Clem made the comment that if her parents hadn't told her about the birds and the bees yet, then it was hardly Clem's place to do it!

Heyes sighed. What was going on with his partner? None of this sounded like him at all. In one way the information worried Heyes, because it was so uncharacteristic of Kid to carry on in such a manner. So why was he doing it? But in another way it actually made Heyes feel better. Obviously there was something wrong and that Kid's apparent abandonment had nothing to do with Kid not caring about him. Probably just the opposite if anything.

Again Heyes fretted over his own impotency to help his partner. He had to count on others to step in and take over and none of them understood what was wrong either! Heyes sat on his cot, propped up against his pillow, wrapped cozily in his new blanket and just stared into space—thinking and worrying and knowing that there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Finally he scooped up his worn down pencil and last sheet of paper for the week, and using one of his new books as a support, settled in to write a letter. He wasn't really sure how to start it, or what questions even to ask, he just knew that he had to make contact and to feel that he was a part of what was going on at home. He sat for a moment collecting his thoughts, pencil poised over the paper. He coughed, made a decision and then began writing; 'Dear David….'

To Be Continued.


	14. Chapter 14

THE LETTER

It was an evening at the beginning of the second week of the New Year when David sat down at his desk to write a letter. He contemplated for a few moments; quill in hand, not quite sure how to begin. Then he decided; at the beginning was probably the best. He dipped the quill in the ink bottle and began to write;

_"Dear Hannibal;_

_I apologize for not writing to you sooner. You are correct of course in requesting information concerning your cousin, since you are indeed his closest friend and only legitimate family and certainly have the right to know. I should have written to you sooner but things have been so tremulous here since our return from Wyoming that I just didn't think to do it. Again, I apologize for this. I suppose another reason for not writing to you is that I don't really understand myself what is going on with Jed. Part of his distress at first was due to withdrawal from the morphine he had been taking, but he's well past that now and is still behaving erratically He has simply replaced one drug with another—the other being alcohol._

_I know he is doing this because he is depressed, but it is the reason for the depth of his depression that I don't understand. He is understandably upset over your fate, as we all are, but though the rest of us are doing what we can to pressure the Governor to grant you your pardon, Jed seems to prefer to simply get drunk every night. We are all surprised and confused by this behavior, not to mention disappointed, as we assumed that he would be the first to be coming to your rescue!_

_I have sent a letter to a friend of mine back East who has done some study of addiction and acute depression with the hopes that he can give me insight into Jed's problem. In the mean time I am trying to make myself available to Jed whenever he needs to talk, but if he won't even try to help himself, it's difficult for me to force it on to him. As far as I am aware he is not even continuing with the stretching and exercises that I gave him to do to help his shoulder heal properly. Before his trial he was very consistent with keeping this up, but now, it's like he just doesn't care anymore._

_Fortunately, throughout most of the trip home from Cheyenne Jed was asleep, only waking occasionally due to bad dreams or necessity. We all disembarked in Brookswood except for your friend Miss Hale who continued on to Denver, with promises of everyone keeping in touch etc. etc. I also parted company with the Jordan's at this point and walked the rest of the way to my home. I believe Jesse hired a surrey to take the rest of them out to the ranch…"_

Jed was sitting in the front seat of the surrey with Jesse beside him, driving the team of horses out to the ranch. Beth and Bridget were sitting in the back bundled up against the chill, but still talking and laughing about their adventure. The two men up front were quiet, each in their own thoughts until the horses were jogging down the tree lined lane towards the Double JJ, and Jed spied ole' Buck still out in that same field with Karma.

"Oh, Jesse! Stop for a moment will ya?" Jed asked. "I'd like to say hello to my old friend out there."

'Oh, sure." Jesse agreed, and pulled the team to a halt.

The two horses, both looking fat and shaggy with their winter coats on, snorted and came trotting over to the fence to greet whoever was coming into their 'territory' They were both looking bright eyed and healthy and Buck gave a nicker as he recognized his human standing at the fence. Jed smiled and gave his big gelding an affectionate slap on the neck.

"Hey there old friend, how ya doin'?" He asked the horse, and Buck gave him at rather boisterous head butt as though asking him the same question.

Karma-Lou was also standing by and stretched out her nose to Jed and gave him a checking over to make sure he was who she thought he was. Then she turned her attention to the lane, and with head up and ears pricked to their utmost she scanned the distant horizon, waiting expectantly for her own human to put in an appearance. She opened her mouth and set forth a whinny and then continued to wait and watch hoping to see the familiar figure come walking over the ridge.

Kid felt his heart nearly break in two. He gave her a pat on the neck, and rubbed her mane.

"No Karma." He told her sadly. "He's not here. He's not coming."

Karma cocked an ear towards him and then as though in understanding, she relaxed her stance and brought her head around to give Jed a friendly nuzzle and then turned, and followed by Buck they trotted back out into the field to continue their grazing. Jed turned back to the surrey.

"They're looking in fine shape." He said to the girls. "You've both done an excellent job of looking after them."

"It was a pleasure to look after them for you Thaddeus." Bridget assured him. "They're wonderful horses, both of them. We can see why you and Joshua are so fond of them."

Jed just smiled and stepped back into the surrey. Jesse clucked to the team and they continued on to the house. Rufus finally put in an appearance, better late than never to greet the home comers and woofed excitedly, his tail wagging as he trotted stiffly over to meet the surrey. Peanut and Pebbles came charging out of the barn after him, yapping their heads off and then close behind them, came Sam.

Jesse turned the team towards the second barn and Sam stepped forward to hold the bridle of the near horse while everyone disembarked the surrey.

"Afternoon Sam." Jesse greeted him. "Everything alright?"

"Oh yes sir, Mr. Jordan." Sam assured him. "Everything is fine. Hello Miss Beth, Miss Bridget."

"Hi Sam." Beth greeted him with a smile.

"Hi." Bridget answered, barely giving him a look and certainly not a smile.

Sam sighed and then looked over to Jed.

"Mr. Curry." He greeted him, a little apprehensively, not sure what kind of reception he would receive from that gentleman. "I'm glad to hear that everything worked out for you."

"Hello Sam." Jed answered and then stepped forward and shook his hand. "It's good to see you again."

Sam smiled, relieved. It seemed that Mr. Curry at least had forgiven him.

"Take the horses in and settle them for the night Sam." Jesse instructed him. "You can return them to town when you go in tomorrow."

"Yessir."

"Thaddeus!"

Jed turned towards the house to see Belle come down the steps and then run towards the group.

"Oh Thaddeus! Welcome home! It is so good to see you!"

Jed grinned broadly. "Hello Belle."

She came up to him and gave him a big hug. He returned it with a kiss to her cheek

"Come on into the house." She said. "I've had a hearty soup simmering on the stove just waiting for you to get home. You all must be chilled to the bone."

This statement was met with total agreement from all quarters and everyone headed for the house looking forward to the opportunity to warm up and settle in. Belle turned to Sam as he was leading the team into the barn.

"You come in too and join us Sam." Belle invited him. "As soon as you get those horses put away."

"Yes, ma'am, I will!" Sam answered. "Thank you."

Inside the ranch house, it was warm and should have been inviting, but Jed felt uncomfortable. Everyone quickly removed their heavy coats and scarves and settled in around the same dinning room table and were quite happy to tuck into hot soup and warm freshly baked bread. Jed joined in as was expected of him. He laughed and talked and they discussed the ranch, but just like at the dinner party, his heart wasn't in it. All he really wanted to do was run away and cry somewhere, but there was nowhere else for him to go.

"I've set up that same room for you under the stairs, Thaddeus." Belle told him. "I hope that will be alright for you."

"Yes ma'am, that'll be fine." Jed answered, then noticed Belle's admonishing look and he quickly added. : Ah, Belle."

"David suggested that I put you to work right away." Jesse informed him. "But if you want to take a day or two…."

"No." Jed cut him off. "I need something to do. Whatever you want Jesse."

Jesse and Belle exchanged a quick look and the girls were suddenly silent.

"Okay, fine." Jesse agreed. "Tomorrow morning when Sam takes the surrey back into town why don't you go with him with the buckboard and help him bring back the supplies for the week?"

"Fine."

Just then Sam himself came in the front door, and removing his heavy coat and work boots came and joined them at the table. Belle was quick to put a bowl of soup in front of him and offer him some bread. Then she turned and headed for the day nursery as young Jay had started to stir and was making it clear that he wanted to join the party.

"Jed's going to go into town with you tomorrow Sam." Jesse informed him. "Give you a hand with the supplies."

"Oh, sure!" Sam accepted that with a smile. "I hope we can get there and back before the first snows hit. You can practically smell it in the air."

At that point Belle returned with Jay in her arms. It was obvious, even wrapped in a blanket that he had grown plenty in the few months that Jed had been away. But even at that the scene around the table was too much like a disturbing déjà vu to the first lunch he and Heyes had enjoyed in this same room and all of a sudden Jed felt like he was going to throw up.

"Thaddeus, why don't you take JJ for a bit?" Belle suggested. "Get re-acquainted."

"NO!" Jed practically shouted at her. He shoved his chair away from the table and was on his feet in a flash, backing away from her.

Belle jumped in surprise and took an involuntary step back herself.

"Jed…." Jesse said, in a warning tone.

"I'm sorry." Jed said, trying to calm down, knowing he was behaving in an unacceptable manner, but unable to stop himself. "I'm sorry. I'm tired. I'm just going to go to my room for a while." And with all eyes upon him, he turned and went in to hiding.

Belle sent a questioning look over to her husband. Jesse sighed and shook his head. There was going to be some more 'pillow talk' come evening, he could tell.

Jed closed the door behind him and was instantly pacing the room. He was agitated, frustrated, angry—hurt. All these emotions hitting him at once and he had no control over them and he felt like he needed to hit something or someone! He unstrapped his gun belt and threw it into the chair which in itself suggested his uncharacteristic moodiness. Running his hands through his hair, he clenched his fists around the curls and held on like his very life depended on it.

His sob came suddenly and uncontrolled and he clamped down to suppress it, but failed totally. He sat down on the bed and stared out that same window at the two horses out in that same field and the sobs attacked him. He grabbed the pillow, and flinging himself back across the bed, he hugged it to his face to try and suffocate the sounds, or suffocate himself—whichever came first.

He rolled over onto his side and pulling his knees up he cried into the pillow like a baby and the sobs racked his body until he was fighting just to breath and his chest ached and his throat burned and he continued to sob. And somewhere, in between the gasps and the anguish he was pleading, over and over and over; "Heyes! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry….!"

"What was that all about?" Belle asked, snuggled in her husband's arms. "He didn't even come out for supper."

"I don't know." Jesse admitted. "David says he's depressed and that we just need to give him some time, but I'm at a loss as to how to deal with it. I guess just putting him to work would be the best thing right now."

"Hmmm." Belle agreed. "Keeping him busy can't hurt. And I'm sure the girls will help to bolster his spirits." Here Jesse shifted a little, uncomfortably. "What?"

Jesse sighed. "I wasn't sure whether to mention this or not, but I suppose you do need to know. The morning after the trial, we all met over at the café for breakfast, but Jed didn't show up. David decided to go back to the hotel to check on him and he wasn't in his room nor had his bed been slept in, so the two of us went in search of him. Well we found him passed out at one of the seedier saloons in town. Apparently he had gone over there shortly after we had all retired for the night. He took himself one of those gals and he treated her pretty rough. I swear, I felt like beating some sense into him myself right then and there—give him a taste of what he had been dishing out, but he was passed out cold from all the drinking he had done and wouldn't have felt it anyways. Plus David wouldn't let me though he was pretty sickened by the whole affair as well. The Madam there told us not to worry about it, that it was common for some of the customers to get a little rough, no big deal." Jesse sighed again and Belle could feel him shake his head at the absurdity of the whole episode. "So, David and I hauled Jed back over to his hotel room to sleep it off until the train was due and then we hauled him onto the train and brought him home. I haven't had a chance to speak with him about it because the girls have always been around, so maybe tomorrow….Still." He continued. "I don't really feel comfortable with either of the girls being around him without one of us there. At least for now. I just don't trust him."

"Oh no." Belle whispered. "Poor Thaddeus!"

"What?!" Jesse quietly exclaimed, not sure he heard right. "What do you mean 'poor Thaddeus'? You didn't see that young woman he beat up!"

"No, I know!" Belle insisted as she gave her husband a light squeeze on his arm. "I'm not saying that was acceptable—of course it wasn't! It's just that Thaddeus is such a gentle soul…" Here Jesse laughed derisively at this. "I know." Belle repeated. "But if you weren't so angry with him right now you would realize how much pain he must be in to cause him to behave that way. I hate to admit it, but I would be more inclined to believe that Joshua had done something like that rather than Thaddeus. Joshua can be very masterful and intimidating sometimes. I have no trouble believing that he was the leader of The Devil's Hole gang—he has a way about him, he just naturally takes control. But not Thaddeus; he's too kind."

"I don't know Belle." Jesse disagreed. "You didn't hear the testimonies at the trial. More than one person commented on Jed's temper and that Hannibal was the only one who could control him when he got like that. I was asked if I had ever felt threatened by either of them, or concerned for the safety of my family with them around. I answered truthfully at the time, that I never had. But now? I would not be able to give the same answer. I do fear for their safety around Jed now and I don't want either of the girls to be alone with him until he can prove to me that he is worthy of that trust."

"Alright." Belle agreed. "I don't believe that he would ever hurt any of us, but I'll accept your decree. But I am also going to do everything I can to help Thaddeus get through this. I know that he's a good person and now that he has his freedom, I'd hate to see him throw it away. We just need to help him find his footing again. These last four or five months have been very hard on him."

Jesse chuckled and gave his wife a hug.

"Oh brother! You and David!" He said. "You're each just as stubborn as the other!"

"Yes, we are." She agreed with a smile. "Now, what about this Mr. Granger who I am apparently going to be meeting at Thanksgiving?"

"Oh no…" Jesse groaned.

"What?" Belle asked, a little concerned. "Don't you like him?"

"No, no, I like him well enough." Jesse put in. "It's just that I was hoping to actually get some sleep tonight."

"Oh a couple of more minutes won't hurt you!" Belle insisted. "I'm just curious. You wouldn't have invited him all the way out here for the holiday if you didn't think he was worthy. You saw him in action in the courtroom—does he appear to be an honourable person?"

"Well, yes." Jesse admitted. "He worked very hard on both cases and certainly spearheaded the campaign against the governor's office, which, it seems, did help Jed's case. And he's still willing to stay with it to get Hannibal pardoned. It's not going to be easy though."

"Hmmm." Belle agreed, and then elaborated. "Still, often some lawyers can bend the truth a bit in order to win a case, twist people's words to mean something that wasn't intended. Did you see any of that with Mr. Granger?"

"No." Jesse admitted. "Indeed, that better describes the prosecuting attorney, Mr. DeFord. He had quite the talent for leading testimonies in the direction he wanted them to go. Indeed, he would have won both cases if the Governor hadn't stepped in with Jed's. He was this close to getting that young man hanged. I may be angry with Jed right now, but I don't believe that he deserved that."

"So are you saying that you think Mr. DeFord is a better lawyer than Mr. Granger?" Belle asked, almost teasingly.

"No!" Jesse defended himself. "Not a better lawyer as such, perhaps just more experienced. Mr. Granger is still a young man and new to the bench, which is the only reason we were able to retain him for the defense—no other lawyer in town wanted the job! In that light, I think he did very well, and once he gets more experience under his belt he should make a fine attorney, and from what I've seen, an honest one too."

"So he should be able to provide for Bridget and a family without too much hardship?" The practical side of the mother asked.

"Certainly." Jesse agreed. "I think he will be very successful."

"And Bridget is obviously fond of him." Belle pointed out. "That was clear as soon as she got home from Joshua's trial."

Jesse sighed. "There you go again." He complained. "Now how could you have possibly known that?"

"Oh, there was far too much correspondence between them for it to just be about their campaign!" Belle explained. "Her letters to him were very time consuming and well thought out and whenever a letter arrived from him, she often retired to her room to read it alone before letting Beth in on what was said. If it was all just about their assault on the Governor she would have been sharing those letters with Beth right away." Belle smiled and again gave her husband a squeeze on his arm. "No, I wasn't at all surprised when you told me of his intentions."

"You're too much!" Jesse complained. "How am I supposed to surprise you with anything when you're always two steps ahead of me?"

"Well, I'm not always, Dear. Just when it comes to our girls and affairs of the heart!"

"Well, personally, I think Mr. Granger is a good sort." Jesse put in. "But of course I wanted you to meet him before giving permission for anything 'official'. But I think you will like him."

"I'm sure I will." Belle agreed. "It ought to be a full house here for the holidays!"

"Yes, it probably will be." Jesse seconded, and then gave his wife another hug. "So can I go to sleep now?"

Belle chuckled. "Yes you may. Love you."

"Love you too. Now goodnight!"

The next morning was a surprise for Belle and Jesse. Jed was up early and already had the coffee going when Belle came down to start breakfast. She smiled at him and actually gave him a morning hug.

"You're looking in better spirits today Thaddeus." She told him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did." He lied. "Thought I would get an early start on things since it is my first day on the job here."

"You must be hungry since you didn't eat any supper last night." Belle commented. "We'll get some oatmeal going first and then how about some flapjacks and bacon?"

"Fine."

"Sam ought to be in soon." She informed him. "He generally takes meals with us now since the other hands are up at the line cabin to take care of the stock through the winter. It gets kind of lonely for him out in that bunkhouse all by himself."

"So Sam is working out okay here is he?" Jed asked.

"Yes he is." Belle admitted. "He works very hard and has done nothing to make us regret bringing him back on after…well, you know."

Jed smiled. "Yup." He poured coffees out for them while Belle set the pot on the stove for the oatmeal. "It don't appear that Bridget has quite forgiven him though."

Belle sighed as she hugged her mug of coffee. "No." She admitted. "I think Sam has burned his bridges there. But he does seem to be getting on well with Maribelle, the young lady in town, so I don't think he's going to be too heartbroken that Bridget has set her sights on another."

"Ohhh, so Jesse has told you about that has he?"

"Oh yes." She admitted with a smile, "What do you think of him Thaddeus? Is he worthy of our eldest daughter?"

Jed smiled. "Well, after what happened to Heyes I was ready to write him off as useless." Jed confided. "But once I got a taste of how ruthless it is in a courtroom I ended up admiring him just for being able to stay afloat." Then he nodded. "Yeah, I think Mr. Granger would make a pretty good match for Bridget. If my opinion counts for anything these days."

"Of course it counts!" Belle assured him. "And from what I'm hearing of this young man, I think you are probably right. He seems to be willing to carry on pushing for Joshua's pardon as well, so that certainly speaks well for him."

Jed's smile dropped and was replaced with an anxious, almost guarded demeanor.

"Have you been in touch with Joshua yet?" She asked tentatively.

"No." Jed admitted blandly. "I doubt that he would want to hear from me."

"Why would you think that?" Belle asked, concerned. "Of course he'll want…."

"NO!" He looked at her with eyes on the edge of threatening and he started to back away.

"It's alright Thaddeus." She said gently and put a quiet hand on his arm, instinctively seeking to calm him—to prevent him from bolting to his room again. "Don't worry about it. Come; help me slice up some bacon for breakfast."

Jed's demeanor instantly softened and he relaxed with a self-conscious smile. He stepped forward again and focused his attention on getting breakfast ready.

Belle gave a silent sigh of relief. Unlike her husband, she could see right away that Thaddeus was deeply wounded, but just as with everyone else, she couldn't understand why. But Belle, being Belle, would take him under her wing and do everything she could to help him heal and hopefully understanding would come in time.

Then there was a stampeding on the stairs and the rest of the Jordan clan were coming down for breakfast. Jay started to cry.

Early afternoon found Jesse sitting at the large table doing paperwork for the ranch when he heard the buckboard returning from town and then the inevitable chorus of dogs barking in joyous greeting. He put aside the figuring he was doing, shrugged on his coat and headed outdoors to help with the unloading. But as soon as he got out onto the porch, it was obvious that something was wrong; no Jed. Jesse practically growled to himself.

He plunked down the steps and headed over to the barn where they would be storing most of the supplies and took hold of one of the bridles, while Sam climbed down from the driver's seat, already shaking his head.

"Where is he?" Jesse demanded.

"I don't know, Mr. Jordan." Sam answered, feeling like he was to blame. "We got in to town fine and he seemed to be in good spirits. I went straight over to the mercantile and Mr. Curry, he took the team and surrey back to the livery stable. Anyway, short time after that he met me at the store and helped to get everything loaded into the buckboard n' all that. We were gettin' on fine, talkin' about stuff, you know, but then when we was gettin' ready to come back here, suddenly he says that he's gonna go over to the saloon and play some cards n' stuff and that he'd make his own way back here. Well, I didn't know what to say to change his mind n' all, and he didn't give me a chance to anyways—just walked away." Sam shrugged self-consciously, feeling responsible, but still hoping he wasn't going to get yelled at.

Jesse sighed, and his jaw tightened as he tried to keep his frustration and anger in check.

"It's alright Sam." He assured the young man. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yessir."

"Where's he getting the money for all this?" Jesse commented, more to himself than anyone.

"I donno." Sam answered with another shrug and then began to unload the wagon.

Jesse stared off down the road towards town, a pensive expression on his face.

"He better not be stealing it." He mumbled to himself.

When Jed finally returned, it was three days later and he was riding a rented horse. He wasn't drunk, nor was he hung-over, and he didn't look like he'd been in any fights, but he was tired. Actually, exhausted would describe his condition better. He tended to the horse, more out of habit than through any sense of responsibility and then staggered into the house and without a word to anyone, disappeared into his room and collapsed on the bed. He didn't move for the rest of that day and all that night.

The next morning, again he was up early and getting coffee going before anyone else had begun to stir. He said not a word about where he'd gone or what he'd done, or even any apology for causing days of needless worry for three ladies who cared deeply about what happened to him. Jesse was about ready to wring his neck. Belle kept the peace.

That day he helped Sam with the chores around the barns and then saddled up Buck and joined Sam on a ride up to one of the northern pastures. It was time to check on the livestock there and make sure they were all getting enough to eat in preparation for the upcoming winter months. It started to snow. Just a dusting, nothing to panic about, but that didn't stop Bridget from panicking. What if Stev….err, Mr. Granger couldn't make it for the holiday? Nothing could be worse than that!

The next morning Jed saddled up Karma Lou, since Buck still seemed tired from the previous days' excursions and after giving assurances that he would be back in a few hours, headed into town, leading the rental horse back to the livery. Everyone was on pins and needles, wondering if he would indeed return and what would be the consequences if he did not.

All was well though, and two and a half hours later he and Karma Lou came trotting back into the yard, minus the rental horse just as more snow was starting to fall. Jed tended to Heyes' mare and got her and Buck settled in to lunch and then entered the house to get some lunch himself. For the rest of the afternoon, he chopped firewood and then helped Sam with getting the barnyard livestock tended for the night. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Jed was finally starting to settle in and everything would be fine…..

By the time Heyes received David's letter it was well into the final week of January 1886. There had been such a heavy snow fall over the Friday night that a number of the inmates were 'volunteered' to go outdoors on the Saturday and shovel the yard so that horses and wagons could actually get into the prison. Since Carson took great pleasure in antagonizing the 'great outlaw leader' Heyes and Boeman both were a part of that work detail.

Heyes wasn't sure if Carson was simply trying to set things up so the two adversaries would end up in a scuffle or if he just liked exerting his dominance over the two alpha wolves in the pack to remind them who was really in charge. Unfortunately Boeman wasn't smart enough to realize that the head guard was manipulating him and seemed to think that Heyes was being deliberately antagonistic. Heyes was doing his best to avoid both gentlemen.

Now, Heyes being a man who didn't care much for physical exertion at the best of times found the job of shoveling snow out in the cold quite exhausting work. He knew he was going to be sore the next day and that put him into a rather snarky mood even before the muscles started to actually ache. Then to add to his irritation, Boeman took every opportunity to bump into his rival, knocking him off-balance on the slippery footing, or misjudge where his shovel was going and give Heyes a sharp rapping on the ankles.

Every time this happened Heyes would send a quick glance over to Carson, expecting him to give Boeman a reprimand but none ever came. Carson would just smile and watch, obviously anticipating an entertaining scuffle once Heyes got tired of the abuse and finally lost his temper. It never happened.

What did happen was; come the end of the day when Boeman showed up for supper, he arrived in the cafeteria with a limp, a black eye and a split lip. When Kenny asked him quite directly what had happened, he simply stated that he had fallen on the slippery steps out in the yard and had no other comment to make. Odd thing was; nobody recalled seeing him do that. Kenny was suspicious and Carson felt that he had been cheated out of his fun.

Once supper was done and over with, a very sore but self-satisfied Heyes returned to his cell with a cup of coffee. He was feeling chilled by his time outside and it was his intention to curl up with his blanket and continue reading 'Around the World in 80 Days'. He found instead David's letter waiting for him. Finally! Some news from home! Some news that might actually make sense. Surely David would know what was going on with the Kid; David was a doctor after all.

But once he settled in to read the narrative, his hopes fell. Just as Clem had stated in her letter, David was at a loss. Jed seemed to be getting over his moodiness early in November and everyone had breathed a sigh of relief. The month had gone by quickly and the Jordan's were busy getting ready for the first of the big holidays, especially since company was coming. Jed had even volunteered to stay out in the bunkhouse with Sam (Heyes bristled at the mention of that young man's name) so that Mr. Granger could occupy the spare bedroom during his visit. All seemed well….

The afternoon before Thanksgiving, Jed drove the buckboard into Brookswood to collect more supplies and to meet the train that Steven Granger would be arriving on. There was quite a layer of snow on the ground, but the day was clear and bright and the roads hard packed so all of Bridget's fretting had been for naught! The train even arrived on time which, Curry thought to himself, was a most unusual occurrence and would hopefully bode well for the holiday.

"Mr. Granger!" Jed greeted the attorney as he disembarked. "How was your trip?"

"Mr. Curry. Fine, fine." Granger answered as he hoisted his one satchel up onto the buckboard. "I take it you're settling in alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

The drive back out to the ranch went by quickly as the conversation flowed quite easily between the two gentlemen. Of course Steven's first comments were concerning Bridget and asking after her well-being. Then it moved on to Bridget's parents and how were they doing and had Jed heard them make any comments concerning Mr. Granger? And what type of a person was Mrs. Jordan? Was she strict and hard to please, or was she approachable? Was she open to the idea of Mr. Granger courting her daughter? What about Bridget coming to work for him if he moved to Denver? Had Mr. Curry heard anything at all?

Jed smiled and patiently listened to this monologue until it eventually petered out and Steven finally stopped talking and just sat there looking pensive.

"Well, I tell ya'." Jed finally commented. "Belle Jordan is one of the kindest women I've ever met; she'll put you at your ease. Just be yourself and try not to try too hard."

"Yes. Of course." Mr. Granger didn't sound too convinced.

But Steven had to admit that Jed was right. Once he had been welcomed into the Jordan's home, Belle's natural warmth and kind spirit quickly put him at his ease and he relaxed. Then, when Bridget entered the room, well the instant and obvious pleasure that beamed from his countenance upon seeing her again made everyone smile knowingly and the visit was an unqualified success.

As it turned out Jed ended up having the bunkhouse to himself and the dogs when he wasn't doing chores or in the house helping to entertain. Sam had been invited to spend the holiday in town with Maribelle and her folks and Jed had volunteered to take over his duties so he could have a few days off and enjoy himself. Bridget couldn't have been happier with this development, since the last thing she wanted was that puppy hanging around when she had a real man showing her attention.

Jesse had begun to ease up on his decree concerning Jed, after all, it had been a month or so and that young man seemed to be in a much better frame of mind. Beth couldn't have been more pleased to have her friend joining them at the table for Thanksgiving dinner and spent most of the evening chatting with him exclusively and flirting shamelessly, but so sweetly that no one was offended. On the contrary, Jed seemed to be enjoying the attention and was the perfect gentleman for the duration of the evening..

Throughout the dinner, discussion did turn to Mr. Granger moving his practice to Denver in the hopes of being able to become more acquainted with Miss Jordan. It was also suggested that Bridget come to work for Mr. Granger, as his assistant as she obviously had an interest in the law and a very bright mind to go along with it. There was certainly some hesitation about this as it seemed to both parents that Bridget was a bit young to be moving to the big city on her own. It was at this point that Jed stepped in, much to Mr. Granger's undying gratitude

"She could always stay with Clementine." Jed suggested. "She lives just outside of Denver and has a spare room. She and the girls seemed to get alone quite well in Cheyenne so…"

Steven and Bridget looked very hopeful. Belle and Jesse looked skeptical.

"Is she responsible?" Jesse asked. "Seemed to me that she was quite a free spirit with the gentlemen in Cheyenne."

"Well, yeah, she can be." Jed admitted. "But she has a solid character and would take the responsibility seriously. She would certainly look out for Bridget."

"Papa? Wouldn't that be alright?" Bridget asked, hopefully. "I mean, you have met her and she is an older lady and we do get along."

Jed smiled at the 'older lady' reference, Clem probably wouldn't think too kindly to that description!

"Well" Jesse contemplated. "We'll see. Perhaps—if she agrees to it."

"I'll send her a telegram tomorrow and see what she says." Jed offered. "But I think she will be agreeable." Then under his breath, he added; "She owes us one."

Then, unfortunately the topic turned to Heyes and his pardon. Belle noticed right away that Jed's demeanor changed and he became somewhat withdrawn from the conversation. No one else took note and the conversation continued on in that line.

"We really need to hit the Governor hard now." Steven was saying, becoming animated with the topic. "He thinks the pressure is off because he granted Jed his amnesty, but we have to let him know that it's not over yet."

"I've already sent letters out to people who wrote in before." Bridget stated. "Asking them to do so again. Plus Mr. McCreedy and Miss Hale agreed to get right on it once more. No one is giving up that's for sure!"

"Yes, Sheriff Trevors also is going to be sticking to it." Steven commented. "Oh! And I received a telegram from a Mr. Briscoe—apparently from the Bannerman's Detective Agency?"

Kid groaned. Oh no. "What did he have to say?" Jed asked, already feeling apprehensive.

"Well, he apologized for not getting in touch sooner." Steven explained. "Apparently he has been out of the country on a case for six months and didn't even get the telegram that Mr. Heyes sent him until after the trials had begun. Otherwise, he would have been right there, testifying on your behalf's."

"Uh huh." Commented Kid skeptically. "Typical. Just like Harry; suddenly being available to help as soon as it no longer mattered."

"I haven't responded to that telegram yet, Mr. Curry." Steven informed him, sensing the pessimism. "Would you prefer that I ignore it?"

Jed sighed. "No, I guess not." He conceded. "Every little bit helps and I guess Harry does the best he can—usually."

"Fine." Steven agreed, though wondering at the relationship that his two clients had with this agent; Jed didn't seem to have much regard for him. "I'll get in touch when I get home. Let him know that any support he can give would be welcome."

Gradually dinner started to wind down and Jay started to demand attention, Beth went off to tend to her young brother while Belle and Bridget began the clearing up. Jesse offered brandies to the two young men still seated at the table, but Jed got to his feet, declining the offer.

"I'm tired." He offered as an excuse. "I think I'm going to retire to the bunkhouse." And promptly made a discreet exit from the family gathering.

Jesse watched him leave, a concerned expression on his face. He had to admit that Jed Curry was a hard man to figure out. He found that he got along with Hannibal a lot easier, they just seemed to connect somehow. But Jed was different. He was a closed book. Jesse had to admit that Belle seemed to be able to draw the young man out more than he could—and David. There was obviously a friendship there between Jed and David, but even that relationship seemed to be strained these days.

Jesse sighed and then turned his attention to the young man still sitting at the table.

"So, Mr. Granger." He began as he poured them a couple of drinks. "When exactly would you intend on moving to Denver?"

Steven stayed on for a couple of more days, but then had to sadly depart since he did have a practice to run—and a governor to harass. But he promised to keep in touch, both on the personal level and the professional one. He also gave Bridget many assurances that he would start making plans to move his practice to Denver in the spring time and to officially begin courting her at that time. Jesse and Belle both seemed agreeable to this so long as Miss Hale would accept the responsibility as chaperone.

Jed continued to help out at the ranch and was quite reliable so far as his duties were concerned. But he still had a tendency to disappear on Friday nights and not return until Sunday afternoons. Jesse was again becoming concerned about the young man's state of mind. Beth was disappointed. After the Thanksgiving dinner, she had thought that Thaddeus actually was enjoying her company, but now he was back to barely acknowledging her.

Then, one evening after supper, when it was Bridget's turn to look to their brother and Beth was helping her mother with the clearing up, she broached the subject.

"What's the matter with him Momma?" She asked all concern. "He never used to behave like this?"

Belle sighed. She knew that this conversation was going to happen sooner or later. "I know sweetheart." She consoled her daughter. "I don't fully understand it either. I just know that what happened to Joshua has hurt him deeply and he's struggling with it."

"But I would have thought that he would be wanting to help Joshua, just like the rest of us." Beth reasoned. "But he's not doing anything. He just keeps going into town to drink and spend time with 'those girls'!"

"Beth!" Belle exclaimed.

"Oh Momma! Don't think that I don't know what goes on there!" Beth admonished her mother. "I'm not a child you know!"

Belle smiled and relaxed her indignant stance.

"No, you're not are you?" She admitted. "I keep forgetting how quickly you girls are growing up. Now here's your sister already on the verge of being courted by a very capable young man." She sighed with acceptance. "You're not little girls anymore."

"So what do I do?" Beth asked. "How do I get Thaddeus to notice me?"

"He notices you sweetheart." She assured her daughter. "Believe me, he does. But he has his mind on other things right now and until he comes to terms with that he's not going to be ready for anything more."

"But he doesn't seem to mind spending time with the girls at the saloon." Beth pointed out. "Why does he prefer their company over mine?"

Belle had to stop and think about that one.

"The girls at the saloon are just a diversion." She finally explained. "He's not serious about them. They're just frivolous company; they help him to feel better just for the short term, because he's not ready for anything long-term yet. In a way, he's showing his respect for you in that he is backing away, and not taking advantage of your feelings for him."

"But I want him to take advantage of my feelings for him!"

Belle laughed, knowing that her daughter was still too naïve to understand what she was saying.

"No you don't" She said. "You want him to respect you. You want him to court you the way Mr. Granger is going to be courting your sister. And believe me, courting is not what he's doing with those saloon girls!"

"Yes, I suppose." Beth admitted. "But how do I get him to do that?"

"Give him time." Belle told her daughter. "Don't chase after him. Be there for him when he wants your company, be supportive of him when he needs your support, but don't chase after him. Wait until he's ready to come to you."

Beth gave a long-suffering sigh. "That could take forever!" She complained.

"Yes!" Belle agreed. "Sometimes it can take a long time to convince a man that it's his idea to come courting!"

Heyes ran out of candle light before he could finish David's letter but maybe, he decided this wasn't such a bad thing. David's news seemed to be all bad and Heyes was having a hard time digesting it all in one go. He didn't really feel well as he had a bit of a headache and a slight cough was starting to invade his chest. It would seem that a day of working outside in the cold had not done him any good at all.

It was still early evening, but the cells had been locked down for the night and Heyes blew out what was left of his candle and decided to settle in and try to get some rest. Maybe he would feel better in the morning. After all, it had been a very strenuous day and he was tired.

Surprisingly enough, he fell asleep quickly and stayed asleep until the early morning hours. He lay awake, bundled up in his sweater and socks and blankets waiting for the morning buzzer to sound and thinking that maybe, he had dodged the bullet on this one. He really didn't feel too bad. Could be the sudden outdoor exercise had taken his system by surprise and all he'd needed was a good night's sleep.

Finally the morning buzzer sounded and Heyes began to unwrap himself from the bedding. The cold air hit him like cascading ice water and he began to shiver. He pulled his blanket up around him again as he sat on the edge of his cot not wanting to lose its warmth. The night shift guards were starting to make their final round for roll call so that they could then go home to their own warm beds and have those precious twelve hours away from this place. They were in no mood for doddlers.

Heyes jumped as a bully club banged into the open door of his cell.

"C'mon Heyes! On your feet." Davis ordered. "It might be Sunday but that don't mean you can spend all day in bed!"

Heyes nodded, grumbling to himself and then got to his feet. He started to walk to the opened door, but he didn't make it. His legs suddenly felt like wet noodles and a ringing dizziness assaulted his head as he collapsed to the floor of his cell. Through the spiraling blackness that he was falling through he could hear voices in the distance, calling out;

"C'mon Heyes! Where are ya?!" Then…"Oh crap! Convict down! Cell number 312. Has the Doc showed up for work yet?..."

When he woke up again, he had no idea how much time had passed. He was lying in a bed—not his bed; he wasn't in his cell, he was in an open room. His head hurt and it felt like it was made of lead, he was finding it hard to breathe and he was hot. He tried to move and was instantly assaulted by a coughing spasm that left him gasping for what little air he could draw into his lungs. Doc Morin was over to his bed in an instant.

"Easy young fella." He soothed him as he helped Heyes to settle back onto the pillow, and then put a hand to his patient's forehead and then his cheeks. Heyes thought the doctor's hands felt unusually cold. "Hmmm. You're still burning up. This is what you get for barely eating enough to keep a chipmunk alive."

Doc Morin disappeared for a few moments and then returned with a cup in his hand. He lifted his patient up to a partly sitting position and supported him there while pushing the cup to his lips.

"Drink this. It'll help you sleep."

Heyes tried to comply, but his throat didn't want to open up and accept the liquid. He drew some into his mouth and then choked and started to cough again.

"I know. Take it easy, a little bit at a time. Come on, try again."

And so it went. It probably took twenty minutes for Morin to get the full cup of fluids down Heyes' throat, but one sip at a time, between bouts of harsh coughing finally got it done Heyes was exhausted. He could feel himself slipping away even before the Doc had settled him back into the pillow.

He heard a voice; "How is he Doc?" It sounded like Kenny. Heyes didn't hear the response, just a rumbling that he knew was a voice and then he was gone, into oblivion again.

For the next forty-eight hours Hannibal Heyes was barely aware of himself. He thrashed and struggled with inner demons while the fever took hold and ran its course. He dreamed about his sister. She was a young adult and she was calling out to him, asking him why…why….

"Why did you leave me Han? You were my older brother; you were supposed to protect me. Why did you run away?"

And they were in the dark cell, but he could see her and she was surrounded by a halo of bright light and she was reaching out to him begging for help and then her hair caught fire and she was surrounded by flames and the bright light around her expanded and radiated out from her glowing form. Heyes tried to reach out to her, but he was belted in and his wrists and ankles were shackled and he couldn't get to her and then the floor of the cell suddenly became like thick rolling mud and she began to sink into it.

"Help me Han! Help me! Why did you run away?"

"Jenny! Jenny! Noooo!" And he struggled and fought against his bonds and tried so hard to get to her but she continued to burn and to sink into the mar until the blackness engulfed her and the fire was snuffed out and Heyes was left alone and in total darkness and he screamed.

And then his face and neck and shoulders suddenly felt cool and he was calming and he was floating and drifting up and out of the dark cell and then he was in light and he became vaguely aware of his immediate surroundings. Someone was pressing a cool damp cloth against his brow and face and speaking softly to him. She appeared to be dressed like a nun and his fevered eyes focused on the dangling gold cross around her neck._ Odd,_ he thought,_ what would a nun be_ _doing in the dark cell?_ Then he thought, almost with a sense of relief;_ Am I dead? Am I in heaven? Is the struggle over?_ Then he dismissed that thought with an inner snort. _Right, not much chance of me going to heaven._ Then he was gone again—drifting. And then the Kid was there, laughing at him.

"Ha, ha! You're in prison and I'm not! Serves you right you arrogant bastard!"

"No Kid! No! I didn't mean to be. Come back. Come back! Don't leave me here!"

"Come back. Come back." The Kid repeated mockingly. "Why would I do that? All you ever did was put me down, tell me I was stupid. Why would I come back to that? I've got a life now…..a life now….a life….."

And Kid drifted away, out of reach, out of sight. Heyes thrashed and yelled and tried to follow him, but then he was in the dark cell again and all was blackness and he got bogged down in the rolling mud and it was pulling him down, down to Hell and he screamed again.

Then he awoke, but only just barely. Dr. Morin was standing over him feeling his forehead and checking his vital signs.

"He's still feverish." The doctor was saying to someone Heyes couldn't see. "But I believe he has finally turned the corner. Your diligence just may have pulled him through this Sister."

"Ohh, I do hope so." Sister Julia answered. "He's not a bad man…bad man…..bad man…" and Heyes was gone again.

Next time he woke up, he was lying on his side with his knees drawn up—his usual sleeping position these days. He felt as weak as a half drowned humming-bird but his mind was clear and he could breathe. A man was standing there in his line of vision; he was touching Heyes' shoulder and giving it a slight shake.

"Heyes?" Said a very familiar voice. "You awake?"

"Lom?" Oh jeez, even to Heyes his voice sounded weak and distant.

"Yeah." Came the answer. The man turned and pulled over a chair. He sat down and was then in the patient's line of sight.

Heyes looked at him, not totally convinced that he was real. He reached out a trembling hand and touched his friend on his knee.

"Is that you?" He whispered. "Are you really here?"

Lom smiled and took Heyes' hand in his. Heyes didn't retract it. "Yeah Heyes, I'm really here. Being an officer of the law gives me some privileges. You've had quite a rough go of it. We were afraid we were going to lose you."

"How's Kid?"

Lom smiled and shook his head. "Jeez Heyes, you're just barely back to the land of the living and all you want to know is 'How's Kid'?"

"Yeah."

"Get some rest." Lom told him. "We'll talk about Kid later."

"Lom, don't leave me here." Heyes whispered as he drifted off into sleep again. "Please, don't leave me….."

Lom sat for a long time holding his friends hand and watching him sleep. That quiet but desperate plea cut him to the quick, especially since he knew that there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it right now. They were all still trying, but Governor Warren just wasn't listening. It was going to be hard, turning his back on his friend and leaving him in this place, and even more so after having seen him like this.

When Lom had first walked in to the infirmary he had seen the prisoner lying in the bed, but Dr. Morin had had to assure him that the prone man was indeed Hannibal Heyes. Lom would not have recognized him as the high spirited outlaw leader whom he had known for so many years. If they had passed in the street, Lom would have walked right by him.

It wasn't just the shaved head and the prison garb nor the worn out and pale complexion from having been extremely ill for the past week. Maybe it was all those things put together and combined with his weight loss and the sunken cheek bones and the shadows under the eyes. But whatever it was, Heyes was a changed man and it broke Lom's heart to see him reduced to this in such a short time.

The next day Heyes was actually sitting up and Sister Julia was helping him eat some broth. He felt silly having to be spoon fed, but he also knew that he was still very weak and would have had a hard time doing it himself. He also liked the company and if letting her spoon feed him soup would keep Sister Julia sitting on his bed and talking to him, well, he could make that sacrifice.

"Why are you here Sister?" Heyes asked her, still sounding very weak even to himself. "How did you know I was ill?"

"On my last visit I asked the warden to let me know if you ever needed anything." She explained. "So when you became ill, he was good enough to contact me. Then you had mentioned Sheriff Trevors in your letter to me, so I took the liberty of contacting him."

"Oh." Heyes responded a little self-consciously. "How long have you been here?"

"Five days." She answered as she sent another spoonful of broth his way. "Once I got here I couldn't leave you. You were very ill."

"Oh." He said again. "I'm sorry. I've kept you away from your other duties."

The Sister smiled at him. "Tending to the sick and less fortunate is part of my duties Joshua. Did you think we just sit around the convent and pray all day?"

Heyes smiled weakly. "No, I guess not." He admitted. "I guess I just never thought of myself as being in that category."

"Sick?"

"Less fortunate."

The Sister dropped her smile and looked him in the eye. "I don't think of you in that category either Joshua." She put down the bowl of soup and picking up his hand in both of hers she raised it to her mouth and kissed it. Heyes felt his throat tighten, he wasn't used to such an open and honest display of affection. "I don't care what you have done in your past." She continued. "Or what the law thinks you deserve. I just know that you have a kind heart because I have seen it and from what Mr. Trevors says there are plenty of other people out there who agree with me. I know it is difficult, but don't give up hope."

Heyes smiled awkwardly, he couldn't think of anything to say. Then Lom approached the bed and saved the situation. Heyes smiled up at him.

"Howdy Lom."

"Heyes." Lom greeted him. "You're looking a little better today. But what the hell…oh, sorry Sister…don't they feed ya in here?"

"It's not that the prisoners don't get fed Sheriff." Dr. Morin, who had overheard the comment, informed them. "There's just not much we can do if the prisoner refuses to eat."

Then two very reprimanding looks got sent Heyes' way. He kind of shrugged, self-consciously.

"You know me Lom; I never was one to eat much."

"Yeah, but ya usually ate enough to keep yourself alive!" Lom retorted with a bit of heat. "You're not doing anybody any good if you starve yourself to death."

Heyes looked away from their accusing stares and though he made no comment his thoughts were clearly written across his face. Sister Julia gave his hand another gentle squeeze.

"It does matter, Joshua." She assured him. "Your welfare matters to a lot of people. So you start looking after yourself better, alright?"

Heyes gave her a half-smile. Was that a woman thing; being able to read a man's mind like that? Belle would do it on a regular basis, and now the Sister appeared to be just as proficient with that same ability.

"Alright Sister." He agreed. "I will."

"Good! Now, on that note I will leave you two men to talk and I will return later with more soup!"

She got up from the bed, took the bowl and left the men alone. Lom looked around for a chair and then again dragged it over to sit down beside his friend.

"So Lom. How's the Kid?"

Lom sighed. He had hoped to not have to jump right into that. Heyes just wasn't looking up to handling a whole bunch of bad news, but that seemed to be all Lom had to give him.

"I donno Heyes. He's disappeared."

"WA….WHAT!?" Heyes suddenly sat up straighter and then was attacked by a brutal coughing spasm that must have lasted a good five minutes.

"Aww jeez Heyes! Here drink some water!"

"Sxxt!" Morin cursed. "Sheriff, perhaps you should leave him alone for now, let him get some rest."

"No!" Heyes managed to gasp out between coughs. "No, I'll be fine."

Morin looked disapprovingly at the patient and his friend.

"Well, alright." He mumbled, obviously not happy with it. "But not too long. And take it easy, you don't need a damn relapse!"

Heyes nodded as he got his breath back and settled into the pillow again. He hated to admit it but the coughing spasm did leave him feeling exhausted and though sleep was again threatening to overtake him, he forced himself to stay focused. He needed to find out all he could about his cousin.

"What do you mean, he's disappeared? When?"

"About a week after Christmas." Lom admitted. "Apparently he and Jordan had a blow out and Jordan sent him packing. Nobody's heard from him since."

"Oh no." Heyes groaned. "What was it about, do you know?"

"Kid has been drinkin' Heyes, too much, and being abusive." Lom explained." I guess Jordan had just had enough of it."

"What's going on with him Lom?" Heyes asked. "I got a letter from David saying pretty much the same thing. This just isn't like him, it's just….no…" Heyes stopped talking, a pensive look crossing over his face.

"What?" Lom asked.

Heyes looked at Lom, thinking about it for a moment, and then…"No, this is like him." Heyes changed his mind. "This is just like how he was at Valparaiso, when we were kids. He was so hurt and angry over what had happened to our folks, but there was nothing he could do about it so he lashed out."

"Yeah." Lom thought about that himself. "That would make sense. He was very angry about the amnesty deal; almost told the Governor to shove it if it didn't include you as well."

Heyes smiled. "Really?"

"Hmmm." Lom commented. "Mr. Granger and I had to really talk him into signing the papers, but it went against his grain that's for sure."

Heyes suddenly threw the blanket off of himself and started to get out of bed.

"I've got to get back to my cell!" He insisted. "I've got to write to David!"

"Whoa! Whoa, you're not going anywhere Heyes!" Lom countered and caught his friend under the arms just as Heyes' knees buckled and he began sliding to the floor.

Suddenly Dr. Morin was there too and they both hoisted Heyes back onto the bed, despite his many protests. Lom couldn't believe how light he was. Even without Morin's assistance the Sheriff would not have had any trouble at all getting Heyes back up onto the bed. The man literally was wasting away.

"No, no, I gotta write to David." Heyes continued to insist even as the blanket was being pulled back over him.

"Heyes, relax!" Lom said. "Calm down. I'll bring ya some paper so you can write him a note from here. I'll make sure it gets to him. You just get better. And for God's sake; EAT SOMEYHING!"

"No…I have to…." Heyes tried to fight the doctor, to get up again, but his strength failed him and among beads of sweat and another coughing fit, he collapsed into his pillow.

"I think you'd best go now Sheriff." Morin insisted. "I'll give him a sedative to calm him down and he'll sleep."

"Yeah, alright." Lom agreed. Then he put a hand on Heyes' shoulder. "Take it easy Heyes. I'll see you later, okay? Get some rest."

"Yeah, okay." Heyes barely got the whisper out. "See you later…."

It hadn't been Kenny Reece's' life-long ambition to become a prison guard. That was hardly the first choice of a career for a young man growing up in a wealthy family in Tennessee. But like with so many things the war had changed all his plans and set his life upon a different path that was not of his choosing.

His family had owned large properties and raised fine riding and carriage horses for the other well to do citizens in the South. It was a good life filled with social events, and good friends along with the status and respect that as a young man he had taken for granted would always be his. He would eventually inherit and take over the running of his family's business and he was courting and totally expected to marry one of the prettiest belles in the county. Life was good; he was a happy man.

Then the war, which had been brewing for some time but had never seemed to threaten the Reece family, since they were so prominent and therefore above such nonsense, finally exploded in their faces. Kenny Reece, being young and foolish thought it would be great fun to join up to help fight for the confederate cause. He would be an officer after all, and therefore not have to worry about actually getting down and dirty with the regular folk. It would be an adventure.

Well, it didn't take long for the adventure to become a nightmare. The viciousness and brutality of that war shattered Kenny's delusions of grandeur long before the first year of fighting was passed. Then the war didn't end! Long after everyone was ready to give it up and just go home, the battles raged on. The predictions of a short and conclusive 'skirmish' were soon buried under a never-ending pile of broken dreams and broken lives.

Kenny lost everything dear to him. His mother died of the fever, his father was killed trying to protect their property. All their finely bred and high-strung horses were confiscated for the army's use never to be seen again. Their fine home ransacked and burned to the ground. He lost count of how many people he saw blown up or maimed for life—many of them his friends. The world had gone mad and Kenny struggled just to hold on to his own sanity.

Then when the war was finally over, he came home to find nothing there for him anymore. His family and home were gone and his fiancé had given up on him and married someone else who still had something to offer her. With only his severance pay to live on he turned his horse around and headed west.

He worked his way along, taking jobs as they came up and living hand to mouth for over a year. Still, it was better than what he had come from; here at least nobody was trying to shoot him—usually. He did however find it worth his while to lose his southern accent since the further west he went the more people would look at him suspiciously and ask him where he was from, and what side did he fight for? So he studied the western dialogue and worked hard at mastering the different sounds until he could get by with just a slight twang which usually only showed itself when he was angry or stressed. He survived.

He found work mainly with the ranches that always seemed ready to hire drovers or wranglers and since he showed an aptitude for breaking horses, he often got hired for that type of work. Still, it was nothing like the lifestyle he had come from; he was used to being the man who did the hiring not the man asking to be hired. It was a difficult transition.

For the first few years he just kept drifting, following the herds and taking work where he could get it. He finally ended up in Montana on one of the bigger ranches and settled in as the permanent wrangler there. Then what often happens when nature is allowed to take its own course; he met another young lady and took himself a wife.

Then allowing nature to take its course again, the children started to arrive. Within five years Kenny had three sons and a career as a wrangler was beginning to look a little inadequate. He wanted to be able to offer opportunities to his children that a wrangler's pay just would not accommodate. He began keeping his ears and eyes open for a career that could offer the stability and income he would need for his growing family.

Then he got word of the brand new Territorial Prison being built in Wyoming and that naturally guards would be needed. Kenny took the article home to discuss with his wife and they viewed the pros and cons. Perhaps it was not a very prestigious job, and it could be dangerous—dealing with convicts. But then breaking out half-wild horses could get pretty dangerous too and Kenny wasn't getting any younger. If he could handle a wild three year old bronc he was reasonably confident that he could handle an uppity convict. Plus it was a Government job, which meant stability, good pay and possibly benefits to help send the boys to college. There were pre-requisites of course. No previous criminal record, able to read and write English and those with military experience, especially officers would have priority.

It sounded like the perfect fit. So Kenny kissed his wife good-bye and headed to Wyoming to see if there was a future for them there. As it happened, the officials doing the hiring felt that Kenny was a perfect fit as well and he was hired on the spot. Since he didn't have any previous experience as a guard he was not given the highest position, but seeing as how he had been an officer in the war (despite the fact that it was for the confederacy), he was given a position of some seniority. All that was left for him to do was find a place to live, move his family over and be ready to start work as soon as the prison was open for business.

When Hannibal Heyes had arrived at the prison Kenny Reece had been working there as a guard for thirteen years. His oldest son Joseph was getting ready to go back east to college to study engineering. The two younger boys were still going to classes in Laramie but also had aspirations of furthering their education. A daughter had also been added to the brood and had definitely become the apple of her father's eye. Life was pretty good for the Reece family, and on the most part Kenny liked his job; he knew the rules and he knew what he had to do to enforce them.

Some of the things, of course, he didn't much care for. He had seen more than enough brutality in the war and didn't much care to have to see any more. Unfortunately the nature of his work made it impossible to avoid it altogether so he learned how to cope and to deal out corporal punishment when it was called for. Often, he found that taking away privileges worked just as well, if not better on the most part, but there were still rules to be followed and hard men to be kept in line. He learned early that to allow a convict to know you were soft could be dangerous.

Kenny took the time to learn something about each of the new inmates so that he would have a better idea as to what to expect from them. Carson's rule of thumb was simply to beat them into submission; using physical and mental abuse to break their spirit and force them into compliance. This technique worked on many who passed through their doors, but occasionally it would back fire and then the guards would end up with an inmate who was seething inside and just waiting for the opportunity to strike back—consequences be damned.

Hank Boeman was one such individual and Kenny kept his eyes on that one; he was going to be trouble one day. Hannibal Heyes had the potential of being another, but with one significant difference. Hannibal Heyes was intelligent. He had learned the rules very quickly, and once having learned them, figured out how to break them without getting caught and subsequently avoiding punishment. So when Boeman had shown up for supper that winter's evening all battered and bruised, Kenny had known right off that it wasn't from slipping on the steps.

No one had witnessed the incident so there wasn't really anything that could be done about it, and Kenny wasn't so sure he wanted to anyways. Boeman had been pushing Heyes ever since the younger man had been incarcerated, it was only to be expected that sooner or later one of them was going to be knocked down a peg. But Kenny also knew that Carson was hoping that Boeman would be the one coming out on top; that guard never did like to see intelligence and charisma displayed by an inmate and he'd try to crush it at any opportunity that came his way.

As previously stated, Kenny was just as quick to delve out punishment as any other guard was, but he didn't like to see a man beaten into the ground—mentally or physically. There was no need for it and often resulted in an inmate becoming even more vicious and unpredictable than he had been when he first arrived. So once Kenny realized that Carson had singled Heyes out to be his new pet project, he did everything he could to counter the effect.

He made sure that Heyes actually received the mail and parcels that were addressed to him, left a copy of the Cheyenne Gazette on his cot so that he would know that his partner was safe and got him a break from the work floor by setting him up in the laundry room once a week. And we already know how he arranged for Heyes to receive reading material that was more on a level with his intellectual abilities.

Still, Kenny could tell that Heyes was not adjusting well to prison life. He did his work and stayed out of trouble on the most part, but he was depressed and sullen and he wasn't eating enough to maintain his strength. So Kenny wasn't really surprised when he arrived to start his shift to discover that Heyes had taken ill and was at the infirmary. It really wasn't uncommon for new inmates to become ill during their first winter in the prison as they hadn't had a chance to adjust to the conditions yet and if they survived the first winter then usually they would be okay.

Still, it was touch and go for a while and Kenny found himself relieved when he learned that one of the Sisters of Charity had come over again to help with the care of a particularly ill inmate. So often their diligence had made the difference between an inmate recovering or succumbing to the illness. As Heyes' fever finally broke and he was becoming more lucid, but still not well enough to return to the cell block, Kenny made a point during his lunch break to bring over the letter and the book that the inmate had been reading before he had collapsed.

It was during this visit while Heyes was asleep and the Sister was taking a much-needed break that Dr. Morin called Kenny over for a conference.

"What's your opinion of Mr. Heyes?" Morin asked. "Would you feel that he is a candidate for a Trustee?"

Kenny sent a speculative look over at the sleeping inmate.

"No." He finally stated. "Not yet anyway."

"No?" Morin repeated, surprised at that answer. "But why the hell not? I have found him to be very courteous and polite when he comes over here to exchange medical journals. He is obviously highly intelligent. I've given him books that took me months to plow through and finally come to understand—he's returned them in a week. Fxxk!" He cursed in exasperation. "I thought at first that he was just covering up, that he wasn't really reading them, so I tested him with a few random questions. He answered them all correctly, without hesitation so he was obviously retaining what he was reading." Here Morin hesitated and glanced over at the inmate with a regretful sigh. "It's a shame really; with a brain like that he could have done anything he wanted but he ended up choosing a life that would ultimately lead him here. A real waste."

"And that's just the problem." Kenny answered. "He's too damn smart for his own good. You're right, he could have done anything with his life, but he chose to live outside the law. Don't ever forget who he is Doc. Don't ever forget it. Hannibal Heyes can be very charming when it suites him, but he can be very devious as well. He learned the rules very quickly and then he learned how to manipulate them. Any of the other inmates rub him the wrong way, he waits until the right opportunity presents itself and then he retaliates. He doesn't react right away, on the spot cause then he knows he'll end up in the dark cell. He bides his time until he gets the offender alone and then lets him have it.

"When Kelly and Kristiansen ended up with bloody noses and black eyes, I thought it odd that they both insisted that they'd tripped or walked into something. Then I thought about it for a bit and realized that they had both, on different occasions done something that had irritated Heyes. I saw it in his eyes; just a flash of anger and then it was gone, so I thought nothing more of it. Then a week later—ten days later they show up injured. So that got me paying more attention.

"Then there was that work detail that went outside to clear snow from the yard. Carson is itching for a fight between Heyes and Boeman so of course he puts the two of them out there working together. I think; well, let's just wait and see what happens. Sure enough, Boeman pushes for a fight, and Carson does nothing about it. I figure, give it a week and see if Boeman shows up with some bruises. Wouldn't you know, it only took a couple of hours and all of a sudden Heyes was looking pretty pleased with himself."

"So you're saying that Heyes can't be trusted." Morin stated.

"I'm saying; you got to watch him." Kenny elaborated. "As you've already noted, he's an intelligent man. A gifted man even. If we can give him enough things to keep him occupied he might just survive this place. But I'm just saying; don't forget he's in here for a reason. He has no respect for rules and if he comes to feel slighted, or hard done by, well, I just don't know him well enough yet to be able to judge how far he would go."

"I guess I'm already agreeing with your observation to some degree." Morin continued. "I think we need to give him something more to do that is going to challenge him intellectually, or he's going to get himself into trouble. Since the fever broke, I've noticed the way he sleeps and it worries me."

"What do you mean?" Kenny asked.

"He sleeps curled up, in a ball." Morin explained. "That's not good. I see an inmate sleeping like that especially so early on in their incarceration it sets off warning bells. It tells me they're not adjusting. They're retreating deeper and deeper inside themselves until one day they just don't come back out again. For a man of his intelligence it would be a damnl shame."

"Yeah." Kenny agreed reflectively. "I've seen that happen before. They usually end up suiciding."

"Exactly." Morin emphasized. "Now if we could just give him something to hold on to, something that would give him a reason to keep going, well; maybe we could prevent that from happening."

"Hmmm." Was Kenny's response. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, since Wickham got paroled I'm finding myself in need of another assistant over here." Morin answered. "Even just one day a week. That would give him one day in the laundry room, one day over here helping me and then only three days on the work floor. He'd have to be a Trustee though, but if we could get the warden to agree to that, we might just save his life."

"I donno." Kenny admitted, reflectively. "There are a lot of utensils over here that could be used as a weapon not to mention a lot of medications he could get into."

"Those things are always kept under lock and key."

Kenny smiled. "The locks you have on these cabinets aren't going to stop Hannibal Heyes, Doc. Like I said; don't ever forget who he is." But then Kenny sighed and leaning against the counter he folded his arms and gazed over at the sleeping inmate. "On the other hand, if he recognizes it as a privilege, something he would look forward to doing it might just be all he needs to help him adjust to life here."

"My thoughts exactly." Morin pointed out.

"Let me think on it a bit Doc." Kenny suggested. "I'll keep a close eye on him over the next week or two and if things look good I'll speak to the Warden about it."

The two men locked eyes for a moment and then they both looked over at the sleeping man. The seed of an idea had been planted.

The next day Heyes was feeling quite a bit better, so much so that he had taken the time to look around his environment. He realized that the room he was in wasn't quite as open as his first impression had made it. It was actually just a large ward that could only be entered through a locked door and was just as much a prison cell as his own sleeping accommodation was. There was more furniture and locked cabinets filled with medical supplies and a few other beds spread out in case there was a real run on patients. At this particular time Heyes was the only occupant which was odd, considering the time of year, but as luck would have it, Heyes was the only one who was sick, or injured at that particular time so he was the sole occupant.

Sister Julia had been in earlier to help him with breakfast, and though he hadn't really needed her help anymore he allowed her to do it just to have the company. Then a little later in the morning Lom had shown up to say goodbye.

He was a little disappointed in the change he saw in his friend. Not that he wasn't happy to see Heyes looking better; it was just the other look that he didn't like. Though Heyes was pleased to see his friend, the defenses were up and there was a hardness to his expression that hadn't been there before. Just try to hold his hand now and it would probably become a fist in your face.

Lom found himself a chair and dragging it over to the bedside, sat down and smiled at him.

"I gotta be headin' home Heyes." He informed him. "There's talk of another snow storm headin' this way so I better be makin' tracks before it hits."

"Yeah, I suppose." Heyes answered, disappointment flitting across his features. He knew he would be going back to his cell soon. Back to the loneliness, back to the cold, back to the silence. He handed Lom a slip of paper. "Here." He continued. "If you could mail this to David, I'd appreciate it. I'll write him a longer letter after I'm finished reading the one he sent me. In the mean time, I hope this will give him something to go on."

Lom nodded and took the letter from him, and then it became quiet between them for a moment. Lom really didn't know what to say. He truly wished he could take Heyes away from here, just take him home. But he couldn't. Heyes knew that and Lom knew that, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Hang in there Heyes." Lom finally said. "We're all working at it, you know we are. But Governor Warren took so much flack for giving Kid his amnesty that he doesn't dare do the same for you. We may have to wait until a new Governor comes in to office and then start putting pressure on him."

"How long do you think that'll be?"

"I donno." Lom admitted. "But there's been some talk that Warren is in to some shady dealings, maybe he'll be ousted. Who knows? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah." Heyes agreed without too much conviction, then out of the blue; "I'm worried about Curry. I'm afraid of what he might do."

"Yeah." Lom agreed. "He's like a powder keg right now. I keep expecting to hear that he's robbed a bank, or started shooting up a town or something. It's like he's running scared and without you with him, who knows what he'll get up to. You always could keep him focused."

"I know." Heyes agreed. "But he did the same for me Lom. He kept me grounded too." Then Heyes smiled a little bit. "I'd get going on about some wild scheme and he'd just look at me with 'that look' and I'd know I was pushing the limit a bit. He just seems to know when something's not right; he kept me honest." Then he smiled. "If you can say that about a couple of bank robbers."

Lom smiled. "I know Heyes." He said. "I'll make sure David gets your letter and maybe it'll give him some ideas. Right now all we can do is wait and hope that the Kid shows up again and has enough common sense to not go and do something really stupid. Then maybe we can get this whole thing worked out."

Heyes nodded.

Lom smiled and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I best be goin' Heyes. I'll keep you up to date as best I can and in the mean time; eat something, will ya? You're wasting away!"

"Yeah, okay Lom." Heyes agreed. "Keep in touch—please!"

Then Lom was gone. Heyes instantly felt all alone again as though the world outside had totally abandoned him. He tried to convince himself that that wasn't the truth, but he just couldn't shake the feeling. With a heavy sigh, he then turned back to David's letter and continued to read where he had left off before his illness had hit. Maybe there would be something in there that would give some clue as to where the Kid had gone.

_"Christmas Eve Day."_ David continued. _"Trish and I had planned on meeting the Jordan's at the church for the social where there was going to be carolers and the usual hot apple cider and baked goods—all that stuff that comes with the holidays. I was hoping that Jed would be with them since I suspected that Christmas was going to be difficult for him to get through. Belle mentioned that he was becoming more and more moody as the big day approached, so I was hoping, if I could just talk to him a little…."_

Jed didn't ride in to town with the family that afternoon. There were some things he wanted to get done around the barn first and then would ride in on his own later and meet them there. Should be fun, and being able to listen to Christmas carols being sung by a choir on Christmas Eve would be a real treat. Yup—would be real nice, spending Christmas with a family again.

A few hours after the Jordan's had left for town, Kid finished up what he'd wanted to do—mainly just hanging back cause, for some reason it just didn't feel right, going into the church as one big family. Didn't feel right at all. So, when he felt that enough time had elapsed he saddled up Buck and rode into town on his own. He put his horse up at the livery for the duration and began walking towards the town square with every intention of joining up with the family as soon as he could track them down. He knew it was important to the girls that he be there with them all. He knew that, and had every intention of doing it.

But as he walked through the cold winter wonderland and could smell the roasting chestnuts and the hot apple cider, he felt a tightness come into his chest that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. People were walking past him, all in gay festive spirits laughing and talking and some, especially the children were even singing carols as they danced along the boardwalk in anticipation of the holiday fun. Jed's pace began to slow down and as the singing from the church began to reach his ears his expression went from pleasant expectation to anxious concern.

He stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't do this;

'Then Christmas. Sure would be nice to spend Christmas with a family again.'

'Sure would.'

His chest tightened up even more and then his throat burned as he choked back the sob that was threatening to break forth. Then he turned on his heels and headed for the saloon—he needed a drink, or two or three.

As the evenings festivities quieted down and families began to dissipate, Jesse was beginning to feel a certain amount of irritation. All three of his ladies were disappointed that Jed had not put in an appearance and Beth especially had had her heart set on the family outing including her friend. Well, there was still Christmas day to look forward to and everyone would be home for that.

David stayed out of it. He was a little concerned for Jed, and he knew Jesse was ticked and would probably be giving the young man what for as soon as they got home. But Jed was a big boy and he and Jesse were just going to have to figure out how to work this out between them. David had let Jed know often enough that he was open to talk anytime Jed wanted to, but the offer had not been taken up—so David knew he had to back off. As hard as it was, he had to wait until his friend would finally be ready to come to him. Or not.

So, with Beth, Bridget and Jesse Jr. settled in under piles of blankets and pillows in the back of the buckboard, and Belle snuggled in beside her husband up front, the Jordan family said their goodnights to the Gibson's and headed for home. But much to everyone's surprise and Beth's further disappointment, when they arrived back at the ranch Jed was nowhere to be found.

Jesse had given Sam some time off so he could go and spend the holidays with his mother. Sam had been trying to convince that woman that it was time to sell her little house and move to Brookswood. She was getting older and Sam would feel a lot better if she were closer to him, and he also wanted her to meet Maribelle, since that relationship seemed to be getting quite serious. Sam had a good sum of money in the bank now what with his own savings and his portion of the reward on Heyes and Curry so he felt he could afford to look after his mother properly and all he had to do was convince her of that. It could turn out to be an interesting Christmas for that young man.

So while the rest of the family hurried into the house to get warmed up, Jesse set about unharnessing the team and putting them away for the night It was then that he discovered that Buck also was absent from his stall, and Karma nickered with relief at having company in the barn with her again. Jesse started grumbling to himself as he went about getting the barnyard livestock all fed and settled for the night and then returned to the house himself for a good stiff drink. He hoped Jed would at least have the courtesy to show up for the next day—and be sober! If he didn't it was not going to be a merry time for anybody and Jed would definitely be hearing something about it!

Five days later when Jesse headed out to the barns to do the morning feed and turn out he noticed the door to the one barn swinging open. The three dogs came out to greet him, wanting breakfast so obviously nothing was really amiss or Rufus at least would have been barking. Jesse entered the barn to the nickerings of the numerous horses inside and noticed right off the bat that Buck was back in his stall. Odd thing was, the horse was still fully tacked up and the stall door, like the barn door was wide open. Jesse came down the aisle and giving the big gelding a rub on the nose, took a look inside the stall. Sure enough, there was Jed sprawled out in the straw, sound asleep.

Jesse took a deep breath and told himself to keep his anger in check at least until he'd had a chance to talk to the kid. He stepped forward and gave Curry a kick on the bottom of his boot.

"Hey Jed. Wake up!" Another kick. "Wake up!"

Curry jerked awake and his right hand instantly went for his holster, but he stopped himself in time and looking up at Jesse, yawned and stretched.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jesse demanded.

"In town." Curry mumbled.

"In town?!" Jesse repeated, no longer even trying to keep his anger in check. "Do you have any idea what you have been putting this family through?!"

"Oh, sorry." Curry responded as he picked himself up and started brushing straw from his hair. "I got busy."

"BUSY!?" Jesse repeated again. "You knew the girls were looking forward to you being here for Christmas! What in the world could have been so important that you were willing to disappoint them like that?!"

"I donno." Curry shrugged noncommittally. "I met some friends over at the saloon and we had some drinks and then…."

"Then you spent five days over at the brothel!" Jesse finished for him.

"Well what if I did?!" Curry demanded, starting to get a little angry himself. "You're not my father! I don't need your permission to…!"

"No! I'm not your father!" Jesse cut him off. "And I'd be damned disappointed in you if I was! Where the hell you getting the money for all this?"

"None of your business!" Curry yelled back. "God dammit! The way you and David keep nagging at me I may as well be in prison too! What the hell do I owe you anyways!?"

Well that did it, and Jesse who very rarely looses his temper lost it big time right then and there. With one quick stride into the stall he sent a vicious right upper hook into the Kid's jaw and sent him into the back wall of the stall. Buck jumped and started blowing. Jed went down in a heap, but was quick as a cat up on his feet again, steaming mad and ready for a fight. But the look in Jesse's eye stopped him in his tracks and though still angry and no way near ready to apologize, he had enough sense to back off and stay away from his six-shooter.

It was all Jesse could do to not take the advantage and beat that young man to a pulp—fastest gun in the west be damned!

"I think you'd better leave Jedediah." Jesse said, through clenched teeth. "Go to where ever it is you like to disappear to for days on end. Only this time maybe you better think about what it is you really want because I've about had it with who you are now!"

Then with that, Jesse turned and stormed out of the barn and headed back to the house before he did something he really might regret later. Half way there he intercepted his youngest daughter as she was making a dash towards the barn herself. He reached out and grabbed her arm as she ran passed him, swinging her around to a stop.

"No, Papa!" She insisted. "I heard Thaddeus! I want to see him!"

"NO! Get back to the house!"

"But Papa! Please…!"

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HIM! DO WHAT I TELL YOU AND GET TO THE HOUSE!"

Beth looked like she was going to start crying, but she turned on her heels and ran back the way she had come. She charged up the steps and through the front door, passing her mother who was just getting Jay ready for breakfast and stomped up the stairs to her room to have a hissy-fit all on her own.

Belle watched in concern as her daughter disappeared into her bedroom and then turned to speak to her husband when she heard him enter through the front door. One look at the expression on his face however, and she decided that now was one of those few occasions when talking was not going to help. She watched, opened mouthed and silent as he seethed past her and disappeared into the kitchen. She went over to the front door to close it and then saw Thaddeus out in the yard. She was just about to call out to him, when he mounted up on his horse and booted the animal into a full gallop and took off down the road towards town.

Belle just stood there for a few minutes, her mind trying to work out what exactly had just happened. She felt a chilling dread come over her and hoped that whatever had happened out in the barn wasn't going to be irreparable; that this wasn't going to be the last time she would see Thaddeus. MEN! She thought with a flash of anger. Too prideful—the whole lot of them! Then JJ reminded her that she was holding him out on the front porch and it really was cold out there.

Upstairs Beth was into a full fledge crying fit. She couldn't ever remember the last time she'd been this angry; it really had turned out to be the worst Christmas ever! She was lying on her bed and crying into her pillow when she heard the sound of galloping hooves coming from outside. She jumped up from her bed and ran to the window overlooking the yard, just in time to see Thaddeus heading away from the property, full speed towards town.

Her first impulse was to run out of the house, saddle a horse and go after him! But even in her agitated state of mind she knew that wasn't going to happen. For one thing, her papa would stop her and then she'd really be in trouble. And for another, her mother's words came back to her, unbidden but sensible;

'Don't chase after him. Wait until he's ready to come to you."

Beth rested her chin on her arms upon the window sill. She swallowed her hurt and wiped away her tears and tried really hard to be sensible.

_"…..so for now that is all I can tell you Hannibal. We have no idea where he went. He's not in town as I checked the saloon and the brothel and no one there has seen him. I even checked the jail, but no luck there either. I have asked Sheriff Jacobs to let me know if he hears anything and I also sent a telegram to Lom Trevors to let him know what's happened. Maybe Jed headed back there. I hope he hasn't gone too far as the weather has been nasty of late._

_Jesse feels bad about it all now. The middle of winter is not the best time to send someone packing, but he lost his temper and just wasn't thinking. We're all hoping that Jed has simply holed up somewhere safe until the weather improves and then he'll send us word. And of course, I'll let you know as soon as we hear anything._

_Your friend,_

_David Gibson."_

To Be Continued


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 Partners

Heyes held her close, pushing his body into hers and she was soft and warm and yielding and he loved her more than anyone he'd ever known. She responded to him with a gentle sigh, her arms wrapped tightly around him, caressing him, holding him, her long dark hair tickling his nose. He smiled with the pleasure of her, the pleasure they were giving each other and he softly nibbled on the lobe of her ear and then reached up and kissed her closed eyelids.

She moaned softly, arching her back and giving herself to him. She nipped gently on his chin and ran her tongue along the stubble of hair on his jaw line and when she reached his chin again she gave it a sharper bite. It hurt, but the pain only served to arouse him further and he came down hard on her mouth and kissed her deeply and passionately, reflecting his love-making.

He came up for air, and then nestled in again, nuzzling her neck, taking in her sweet scent.

"Abi." He whispered. "I love you—don't leave me. Please, don't leave me here alone."

Her answer was a soft breath caressing his ear.

"Ahhh…Mr. Heyes….." Then….."HEYES!" Bang! "WAKE UP!"

Heyes awoke with a start. He was lying on his stomach on his cot, a layer of sweat covering his body and he was clutching his pillow like a long-lost lover. A wave of overwhelming sadness washed over him and then he groaned inwardly as he became aware of his current predicament.

His body had responded naturally to the stimulation of the dream just as it would have done to the reality and now he was expected to get to his feet and go stand at the open door of his cell, in full view of the guards. Ohhh noooo. Maybe he could delay, give things a chance to settle down…..then the bully club again BANG! Against the door of his cell.

"HEYES!" Came Carson's voice. "What—do ya think you're a gentleman of leisure now?! GET OUTTA BED! If you're not front and center the next time I walk by you'll lose your books for a month—ya hear me?!"

Heyes closed his eyes and groaned. Obviously there was nothing for it; he was going to have to get up. He swung his legs over the side of the cot and sat up, thinking that maybe he could just keep his hands low, strategically placed to hide his situation. But as he stood at the door of his cell, the first thing he saw was the smirk on Carson's face as the guard came back towards him and he knew it was too late.

"What's the matter Heyes?" Carson chided him with a sneer. "Ya missin' your partner? Ha ha!"

And the guard walked past him, his annoying laughter echoing along the cold corridor of cells as he carried on with his morning roll call. Heyes gritted his teeth—oh how he hated that man!

Breakfast didn't help him to feel any better about life in general. Lumpy oatmeal and weak coffee—everyone pestering him to eat more, the least they could do was offer him something that was edible! Oh well, he wasn't really hungry anyways.

The only good thing about the day is that it was his turn in the laundry room but then that didn't turn out to be a fun time either. It was late morning and he was just beginning to think that maybe he could stomach some lunch when two of the younger guards sauntered into the room, their bully clubs in obvious attendance. Heyes looked up, tensing. He didn't like this, not one little bit.

Here he was again, caught between the rules. If he dared to ask what was going on he would be punished for speaking out of turn but the way those guards maneuvered themselves into position, one on either side of him, he had a feeling that he was in for a beating anyways. He swallowed nervously as he tried to back away from in between them, but all he succeeded in doing was backing himself into the wall.

Instantly, and in unison the two guards pounced on him, each grabbing an arm. At this point Heyes figured that he had nothing to lose and started to fight back, yelling his anger at them. But even just one of these young bucks would have had little trouble holding Heyes down, so two of them were just having fun, pulling his arms back and holding him snug.

Then Carson walked into the room, holding his bully club in the right hand and tapping the end of it against the palm of his left. He had a smug smile on his face. Heyes began to fight harder but the guards held him tight and pulled him upright to face their boss. Heyes began to yell in the hopes that someone would hear him, but then the bully club hit him full force in the gut and his yell was cut short as he doubled over in pain.

The two guards holding him pulled him back up again and then Carson was in his face. He grabbed Heyes by his shirt front and came in close, sneering at him.

"I've seen the way you've been lookin' at me Convict." He hissed. "You think I don't know what you done to Kelly and Kristiansen and then Boeman too?" Then he brought the bully club up and pushed it across Heyes' throat and applied pressure. Heyes fought to breathe. "You think you're gonna get back at me the way you did them? Well think again. If I even get a prickling on the back of my neck that you're comin' after me, I'll cripple ya. You hear me? I've done it before and I don't mind doin' it again! You hear me Convict?"

"Yea…" Heyes gasped out.

"Good!"

The bully club was removed from across his throat, but before he could take a breath the business end of it came plowing into his gut, not once but twice, fast—in succession—Bam bam! Oh God! Heyes thought he was going to die the pain was so bad. The two guards released him and among déjà vu images of Morrison beating him in the jail cell, he sank to the floor and knees drawn up and arms clutching his torso, he passed out.

A short time later Kenny was making his usual morning rounds and he stepped in to the laundry room to make sure that Heyes was where he was supposed to be. The first thing he noticed was; no Heyes. The next thing he noticed was a pair of legs wearing stripes sticking out from behind the laundry table. Kenny was instantly on alert, his bully club up and ready for anything. He backed out of the room, went to the railing and did a quick scan of the work floor down below until he spotted one of the guards.

"Murrey!"

Murrey glanced up, searching for the source of the call. Then he spotted Reece.

"Yeah?"

"Get up here!" Kenny ordered. "Now!"

Murrey headed up at a run and was at the laundry room door in less than a minute.

"Yeah, what's up?" Murrey asked, then…"Oh! Well isn't that interesting."

Reece had moved the table out of the way, but the convict was lying on his side, with his back to the guards so they couldn't see his face, or his hands.

"Watch my back." Kenny said. "And be careful. Remember what happened to Hicks."

"Yeah." Murrey answered with a nervous swallow.

Hicks had been a young guard who had knelt down beside what he thought was an unconscious inmate only to have the convict suddenly swing round on him and plunge a pencil into his jugular. By the time help arrived Hicks had already bled to death.

Murrey had his bully club ready and came round to stand by the convict's feet. Reece cautiously approached the prone man and gave his shoulder a nudge with the club.

"Heyes, is that you?" He asked. "Can you hear me?"

A barely audible response. "Yeah…"

"Roll over onto your back." Kenny ordered him. "Slowly. Let me see your hands."

Heyes tried to comply. He gradually straightened out his legs and then slowly pushed himself over onto his back. He had his hands out so that Kenny could see them, but the movement caused so much pain that his knees came up again and his arms hugged his torso. Fortunately Kenny had gotten a good enough look to know that Heyes wasn't holding anything that could become a weapon and he lowered his bully club and moved in close. Murrey was right behind him.

"It's alright Heyes." Kenny assured him. "What happened?"

"Nothin'."

"Uh huh. Murrey, go get the Doc."

"You sure you're alright with him alone?"

"Yeah. He's not gonna do anything." Reece assured the young guard. "Just go get Morin."

"Okay." Murrey answered, and trotted off to run his errand.

"Alright Heyes, let me see." Kenny said as he moved Heyes' hands away from his torso and lifted up the shirt. He sucked his teeth when he saw the bruising already starting to blossom. "Ouch. Nothin' happened huh?" Kenny sighed, and sitting down on the floor he put a hand on Heyes' shoulder and they waited for Morin to get there.

"Hmmm." Was Morin's only comment as he did a quick exam of the bruised area.

Heyes tried to lay still, his eyes closed in an effort to absorb the pain. He'd already had to go through this once before, why were the fates putting him through it again?

"This rib has been injured before, hasn't it?" Morin asked him.

"Yeah."

"How long ago?"

"Ummm." Heyes had to think about it. "Nine, ten months ago. When I was first arrested, in Brookswood."

"Brookswood?" Morin asked, surprised. "Brookswood, Colorado?"

"Yeah." Heyes confirmed. "A lawman there kicked me in the ribs."

"Not the deputy I hope."

"Deputy?"

"Yeah, Joe Morin." The Doc explained. "He's my nephew and I sure wouldn't want to hear that he's treating prisoners like that."

"Oh." Heyes responded. He thought back to that time and did recall a young deputy being there, but he couldn't for the life of him remember the kid's name. "No, it wasn't the local law; it was the sheriff who had arrested me."

"Hmmmm." Morin commented. "Well that's a relief. Still, that's no way for a sheriff to treat a prisoner in his custody."

Heyes made no comment, but couldn't help but think that it was no way for a guard to treat an inmate either.

"Well, it's not broken this time." Morin announced. "But obviously you've got some pretty bad bruising here. You'll have to take it easy for the next couple of days. Kenny, help me get him to his feet and back to his cell."

"Yeah, okay Doc."

Once Heyes had been settled onto his cot for the rest of the day, Kenny escorted Morin out of the cell block while they discussed the incident.

"What does he say happened?" Morin asked.

"He won't say." Kenny answered. "You know how they get."

"Yeah, but it doesn't take a genius to guess."

"We can't know that for sure."

"C'mon Kenny." Morin continued. "I've seen enough bruising made by bully clubs to know it when I'm looking at it again."

Kenny sighed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

"There's not much I can do Doc." Kenny admitted. "Carson's my superior. I've complained to the Warden before about his abusiveness and I just get shut down. The best I can do is just keep an eye on things."

"Hmmmm." Came back the usual comment. "It would help if we could keep an eye on Heyes over at the infirmary."

Kenny smiled. "Yeah, alright Doc." He relented. "I'll speak to the Warden about Heyes coming over to help you there. After this, maybe he'll be willing to behave himself."

"Good!"

Early evening, and David and Tricia had settled down in the living room over a relaxing cup of tea. Tricia was busy writing a letter to her cousin over in Idaho and David was reading a letter that had arrived that day from his colleague back east;

'_David! Old man! How grand to hear from you! We were beginning to think that the Wild West had swallowed you up. Heard you took a wife, probably the prettiest girl in town too, knowing you. Any little ones yet? Better get going on that you know, time's a wasting!_

_Of course we've all been following the trials of Curry and Heyes! Even back here we've heard about those two bandits. It never even occurred to us that you would be right in the thick of it seeing as how you're in Colorado and they were on trial in Wyoming. I guess one territory is just like another huh? You should have heard all the chatter going on here about those trials, and then when the pictures of those outlaws got circulated, WELL! You wouldn't believe the giggling and swooning that was going on and not just with the young flighty maidens either! It doesn't take a genius to figure out what those old ladies were talking about during their Saturday socials! Don't be surprised if you start getting letters from some female acquaintances, wanting to know what they're REALLY like! A shame about that young fella going to prison though._

_Anyway, down to the serious stuff now. As to your question regarding Mr. Curry and his unusual behavior; there really isn't much information available on that subject. I have heard of a few cases of soldiers coming back from the war displaying similar bouts of depression and temper outbursts. Often these were people who had lost friends in battle, were perhaps the only one to survive out of their group and would return home with overwhelming feelings of guilt for having survived when no one else did. It's almost as though they think that they themselves didn't deserve to live when so many others died and they begin to exhibit anti-social behavior to the point of sabotaging their own happiness. Unfortunately if they cannot find their way out of this line of thinking, often they end up not only destroying their own lives, but the lives of those closest to them as well. _

_The only thing I can suggest to try to help your patient is to get him to talk about what he feels and why. Not an easy thing, I know and considering his own personal background I would expect that he's very guarded about what he says at the best of times. But, I should tell you that often these cases have ended with the subjects taking their own lives. Those few that do get through it have only done so because they've had support from friends and family, and they were willing to talk about it._

_I know you already keep thorough records of your patients David, but might I suggest that you write down everything you can about this one. As I said, there is very little information available about this type of depression and you might consider publishing a paper on it once your treatment is concluded, one way or another. I would also appreciate you keeping me informed as to your progress. It would be a shame indeed if this young man, after having earned his pardon ends up throwing it all away. _

_Friends for always, David. Keep in touch!_

_Michael Griffin.'_

David sat back in his chair with a sigh. He wasn't sure if this letter helped him or not. He had received a short note from Hannibal a couple of days ago and that one did offer some insight into Jed's behavior. The ongoing theme here did seem to be feelings of anger and guilt. And the best way to deal with it all was to get Jed to open up and talk about it. David snorted. At which point Tricia looked up from her writing with a questioning arch to her eyebrows.

"Oh, it's just what Mike had to say about Jed Curry." David explained. "Even if I knew where Jed was, this isn't going to be an easy fix."

"Does he give any suggestions at all?" Tricia asked.

"Yeah." David answered, feeling frustrated. "Get him to talk! But whenever I've tried to Jed just pushes me away."

David sat quietly, looking at the letter in his hands, his thoughts miles away. Tricia got up and poured herself and her husband some more tea. Then, sitting down again she put her own letter writing aside for the time being and waited quietly for him to open up the discussion. Finally David sighed and then shrugged his shoulders, looking very dejected.

"I just don't know what to do." He admitted. "I can usually find the answers with a patient who's ill or injured, but with this I don't even know where to start."

"Well, where do you usually start when a patient comes to you with a new problem?"

"I suppose, I keep it simple." He reflected. "Ask them where it hurts."

"And what if they're unconscious and can't answer you?"

"Then I do an exam." David carried on. "I feel my way along, very gently at first until I know what I'm dealing with and then go deeper so that I can get an idea of the extent of the injury."

"Hmmmm." Tricia nodded, and then smiled. "Sounds like a good place to start to me."

David looked up and met her eyes and then smiled back at her.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" He said.

"Yes, I know." She answered, teasingly. "Now, I better get back to this letter to Miranda before we lose the candle light altogether."

David sat back to drink his tea and reflect on his next course of action when there came a knocking on their front door. David groaned.

"Oh no." He complained. "I hope Mrs. Thornton hasn't gone into early labour. That's all I need tonight is a new mother-to-be in a panic—not to mention the father. No, no I'll get it." David told his wife to stay seated while he got to his feet and went to answer the door.

"Hey Doc."

"Oh! Sheriff Jacobs." David greeted him. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"Yeah, howdy there Doc." Jacobs answered him, looking a little contrite. "Listen, that Curry fella is over at the saloon right now tryin' to stir up trouble. He's drunk and pushin' for a fight and well, me and my deputies could take him out, but we'd be riskin' a gun fight and I'd really rather not do that if we can help it. You asked me to let you know if he came around so, I'm lettin' ya know. Seein' as how you're a friend a' his an' all, well maybe you can talk em' down."

David just stood at the doorway with his mouth hanging open, not quite believing the coincidence of this situation.

"Doc?"

"Oh!—yes Sheriff, sorry." David collected himself. "Of course. Let me just get my coat and I'll be right with you."

He turned to go get his coat and scarf and found himself looking into Tricia's worried eyes.

"David? Are you sure?" She asked, obviously concerned—and rightly so.

He went to her and put a hand on her arm.

"It's alright." He assured her. "Don't worry. I'll be careful. Ummm, maybe you could see that the guest room is ready, we may be having company tonight."

"Yes. Alright."

Walking with the Sheriff towards the saloon, David wished he had thought to grab his hat as well, since it had started snowing again. He briefly wondered where Jed had come from since this was hardly traveling weather but pushed that from his mind as being a rather moot point anyways and focused on the problem at hand.

Walking in to the bright lights and warmth of the saloon, it didn't take any time at all to appreciate the situation. There was Jed alright, standing at the bar with an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and he was busy shouting at Bill, the barkeeper, something along the lines of;

"Who the hell are you to tell me I've had enough to drink?! If I want to buy another bottle then I'll buy another bottle!" Etc. etc.

There was a wide circle of empty space around the Kid, everybody in the saloon doing their best to be focusing on something else at that time and nobody wanting to get into a scuffle with the drunken gunman. Two of Jacobs' deputies were on either side of the Kid, staying out of his reach, but still trying to keep some semblance of control over the situation.

As soon as the two men entered the saloon, Jacobs moved quietly into position behind the Kid so that he could take the man down if needs be, but he still wanted to give Gibson his chance to end the episode peaceably.

David took a deep breath and walked towards his friend.

"Jed." David called to him, but Curry was too busy yelling at Bill to hear him. "JED!"

Still no response. So David reached out and touched Curry on his shoulder.

The reaction was instantaneous. Before David could even blink Jed had spun round and had that six-shooter in his hand and aimed at David before the empty whiskey bottle had even made it half way to the floor. If the atmosphere in the saloon had been awkward and heavy before, now it was like a lead boat sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

Even with everything David had heard at the trial, he still couldn't believe the speed of the man and that was him drunk and with a stiff shoulder. David's hands were up instantly, but to give the Doc credit, he didn't back down, and with his heart pounding in his ears, he stared directly into those blue eyes—like death turned to ice, and he saw it and he shivered. And a voice, unbidden came to him…_'if there ever comes a time when you get in between Kid Curry and something he_ _wants….'_ But he still held his ground, and the fear he felt never made it to his voice.

"What are you going to do Jed?" He asked quietly. "Are you going to shoot me?"

Then something that had probably never happened to Jed Curry before, once he had drawn his gun; he hesitated. Suddenly he was unsure.

"Wh…what?"

Out of the corner of his eye David saw Jacobs slowly start to close in on the Kid, but David stopped him with just a flicker and a very subtle shake of his head. David stood still as a rock, his hands raised, locking Jed down with his eyes.

"Are you going to shoot me Jed?" He asked again.

"No. I…." Then the ice from the blue was gone, replaced by just a hint of indecision. Curry looked at the gun in his hand and it started to waver and then slowly, the muzzle began to drop down. Jed looked up to his friend again with eyes that were now clouded with pain and fear. "David." He whispered. "Help me."

David moved in quickly and with one hand on his friends' left arm, he reached down with his other hand and took the gun out of the Kid's grasp, then handed it over to Jacobs.

"It's alright Jed." David assured him, both hands holding onto him now.

"What's the matter with me David?" Jed asked him, fear in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, Jed." David admitted. "But you coming to me and asking for help is a great big huge first step towards us finding out."

There was one big collective sigh of relief as David led Jed out of the saloon. The three lawmen followed behind until they got outside onto the boardwalk.

"Do you want me to take him from here Doc?" Jacobs asked. "He can sleep it off in a cell for the night."

"No, that's alright Sheriff." David answered. "I'll take him home. I think he'll be alright now."

"Okay, if you're sure." Jacobs said. "Thanks for comin' over. I sure didn't much want to get into a showdown with him. But, I think I'll just hang onto his gun until he's sober. He can come collect it tomorrow, or better yet, the day after."

"Probably a good idea Sheriff." David agreed. "Goodnight, and thanks for coming to get me."

"Uh huh. You have a goodnight too there Doc."

And the group parted company. Walking down the quiet street towards David's house, the snow was still falling and the air was cold and crisp. Now that the crisis was over, Jed was mumbling the way only a man with too much to drink can mumble.

"Ever'body'ss ma' a' me." He was slurring. "Why eve' bod' s ma' a' me?"

"I think everyone has a right to be mad at you Jed." David answered. "You've been behaving pretty selfishly lately."

"I 'av?"

"Uh huh."

"Oooo."

Back at the house, Tricia met them at the door, not wanting to go to bed until she knew her husband was going to get home safely.

"Oh David." She commented, concerned. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Yeah, I think so." David assured her. "I'll get him settled. You go on to bed and I'll join you in a while."

"Alright. There's still some hot water on the stove if you want to make tea."

David nodded his thanks. "Good night."

In the spare bedroom, David got Jed's coat off and then sat him down on the bed to take his boots off and Jed started mumbling again.

"Jess 'ates me."

"Jesse doesn't hate you."

"Ee sad…doon ike me."

"He doesn't like the way you've been behaving." David clarified. "It's not that he doesn't like you."

"Ummm. Eve' Clem ma' a' me. She icked me out."

"Miss Hale?" David asked. "She kicked you out? Is that where you've been Jed?"

"Ya."

"Where have you been getting the money for all this?"

"Unka Mac."

David furrowed his brow. "Mr. McCreedy?"

"Ya."

"Well, I doubt that he meant for it to be used in this manner."

"Hmmm."

"Okay." David said once he had Jed striped down to his long johns. "You get some sleep. We'll talk more about this in the morning."

"Ya, slee…"

Then David swung Jed's legs up onto the bed and got him lying down then pulled the blankets over him and basically tucked him in.

"Okay Jed. Good night. Get some sleep."

The soft snore that came up from the pillow suggested that Curry was already taking the good doctor's advice. David let go a huge sigh, then picking up Jed's coat, empty holster and his boots, he took the lamp and left the room.

He quietly made his way into his own bedroom, and putting the lamp down on the nightstand he quickly stuffed Jed's belongings under the bed. Then turning out the lamp he got undressed and, shivering in the night-time chill, slid into bed, under the covers and snuggled in behind his wife. Tricia suddenly stiffened.

"DAVID! You're freezing!"

"You're not." He observed. "You're nice and warm."

Silence….then a suspicious; "David, what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

GASP!..."Arrgg! Your feet are like ice blocks!"

"They're warming up fast." And he began to kiss her on the back of her neck.

"Where's your hand going?"

"Nowhere." (Between kisses).

Another gasp! "You're fingers are so cold!"

"Hmmm, but where they are is so nice and warm."

Tricia giggled. "You pest!" She accused him as she rolled over to face him. "You always could get whatever you wanted."

He smiled, and returning his fingers to their cozy nest he pulled his wife into a long passionate kiss, and warmed up considerably inside her embrace.

The next morning the Gibson's were up early as David had his rounds to do. The stove was lit and coffee and oatmeal put on to perk while David got his satchel ready to go.

"I should be back by lunch." He assured his wife while they sat over a quick meal. "Jed will probably sleep for a while yet, but if he wakes up before I get home, I don't think he'll be any trouble. In the mean time I'll send a message out to the Jordan's' to let them know the wayward son is home again."

"I'm sure they'll be relieved to know. I also expect he'll have such a hangover when he does wake up that he probably won't want to move anyways." Tricia commented with a smile. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

A few hours later Tricia was sitting at the kitchen table, continuing with her letter writing when she heard a door slowly creak open. She looked up to see a rather disheveled head peeking out from inside the spare bedroom.

"Good morning." She said.

"Mmm. Morning." Came the self-conscious reply. "David around?"

"He's just gone on his rounds." Tricia answered him. "He'll be back soon."

"Mmmm. Do you know where my boots are?"

"Your boots?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"No."

"Oh."

She smiled at his discomfort. "Come out." She suggested. "Come sit and have some coffee."

"Coffee?"

"Yes. It's right here and ready. Come have a cup."

"Coffee. Yeah, good idea."

"Good." Tricia said, smiling again. She got up and poured him a cup. He came out into the room, fully dressed (except for his boots) and sat down at the table. "Would you like some oatmeal as well?"

"Ohhh, not yet." He said as he hugged his cup. He really did look a mess. Tricia poured herself another one and then stood leaning against the counter, watching him as he took a sip of coffee and just sat there with his eyes closed, savoring it for a moment. He took another sip, then opened his eyes and blinked at her. "You're Tricia." He ventured.

"That's right."

"David's wife."

"Yes." She confirmed and took a drink from her own cup.

"You've seen me naked."

Tricia spluttered and choked on her coffee. Jed started to panic.

"OH! Jeez! I'm sorry! Did I say that out loud?!" He got up from the table and looked like he was going to bolt back to his room, but Tricia held up a hand while she got her breath back.

"No, no! Mr. Curry, that's quite alright." Then she laughed at the absurdity of it. "That was a necessity of your convalescence. I'm quite used to helping David's patients with their care." Then she smiled at him. "Please, sit down again. Don't worry about it. Enjoy your coffee."

Jed relaxed, though he still felt a little embarrassed. "Yeah, okay. It's alright?"

"Yes." Tricia assured him. "Please. Sit."

"Okay. Sorry."

"Here, let me give you a top up on your coffee." She offered, and did just that. Then she spooned out some oatmeal into a bowl and put it on the table in front of him. "Try and eat a little bit if you can." She encouraged him.

Jed nodded.

When David got home an hour or so later, it was to find his wife and his patient sitting at the kitchen table and having quite a good laugh over something.

"Oh David!" Tricia greeted her husband as he came in. "Were your ears burning?"

David looked at them suspiciously.

After lunch, Tricia discretely went next door to have a visit with her friend Millie in order to leave the two men alone to talk. David poured coffee for them both and then sat down at the table across from Jed, and silence ensued.

"Do you want to talk Jed?" David finally asked him.

Curry looked over at him and then looked down at his coffee cup.

"Yeah and no." He finally answered.

"Why yeah?" David asked.

Jed shuffled a little in his seat, like a misbehaving school boy. He was very uncomfortable with this. Men just didn't talk about this stuff. Even he and Heyes would respect each others privacy and not push. But now David was pushing.

"Cause I want to find out what's wrong with me." Jed finally mumbled.

"Okay. So why no?"

"Cause…" Silence. Long silence. Then finally; "Cause I'm afraid to find out what's wrong with me?" He said it as a question, because he wasn't sure that it made sense. Was it okay to feel that way?

"Okay." David repeated. "That's understandable." Jed visibly relaxed. "I want you to say whatever it is you're feeling." David explained. "Even if you don't understand why you feel that way or if you think it's contradictory. Doesn't matter; just say it. I'm not just your doctor Jed, I'm your friend as well and I just want to help you get to the bottom of this."

Jed nodded. "Jesse hates me." He said, obviously upset by this assumption since it was the second time he had commented on it.

"As I assured you last night, he doesn't hate you." David reiterated. "We're all your friends and we all want to help you, but you've been making it very difficult lately. Jesse feels bad about what happened last month. He's been worried about you. We all have been."

"Jesse has the right to be mad at me." Jed admitted. "I know I disappointed them at Christmas."

"Yeah." David agreed. "Why did you do that?"

Jed shook his head. "I really had a good time out there at Thanksgiving."

"Well, that's good." Said David.

"NO IT WASN'T!" Jed exploded, slamming the palm of his hand onto the table. "I had no right; having a good time with the family like that—no right at all!"

"Why are you angry Jed?"

"Cause Heyes should have been there!" Jed insisted. "One of the last conversations we had together, I was talking about how good it would be to spend the holidays with a family again. And then there I was doin' it! I had ment for both of us—not just me! But Heyes got thrown to the wolves so that I could go free! So that I could have a life again—have a family again! And that's not the way it was supposed to be! It was supposed to be both of us or neither of us—not one for the other! We're partners! Both of us or neither of us!"

"So you feel that the Governor betrayed you."

"Damn right he betrayed us!" Jed expostulated. "And if it was just going to be one of us going to prison, it should have been me!"

"Why?"

"Because I…" And here Jed choked on his words and he had to stop and take some deep breaths before continuing. "Because I committed murder. I've killed and Heyes would never have done that, he'd have found another way. It's just not in him to kill. Even those men who attacked our farms, I don't think Heyes would have done what I did—well he didn't did he? I'm the one who had to go after them, track them down, murder them in front of their—children!"

Here Jed stopped talking and sat staring into space, clutching his coffee cup. David thought he was going to start crying, which wouldn't have been a bad thing really. But he didn't, he fought back the tears, but his pain was apparent. Finally he had control again and taking a deep breath, he continued.

"I shouldn't have got off scott free." He insisted. "I haven't earned the right to be happy."

There was silence between them again for a moment. David thought back to the letter his friend had sent him describing the symptoms of others experiencing this type of depression. How the war veterans would experience feelings of overwhelming guilt and remorse and therefore sabotage their own happiness. They truly believed that they didn't deserve to have a good life when so many people they knew had paid the ultimate price. David sighed; it all fit. Jed had been hit hard and he was floundering—he needed to get his self-confidence back, his self-respect back before he would be able to do anything to help Hannibal.

"Besides that, Heyes is smarter than I am." Jed continued. "He'd have a much better chance of getting me out of prison than I do of getting him out!"

"Why would you think that?" Asked David surprised that Jed would feel that way.

"Cause these politicians talk circles around me!" Jed explained, as though it should be obvious. "Three hours later is when I think of what I should have said and by then it's too late. But Heyes! He can talk circles around their circles! He'd a' had me out of there ages ago! But me? Deal with those educated men? I don't even understand half the words they use so why even bother trying?"

"So you went out and got drunk instead." David commented. Jed just hung his head and did not respond. David sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "You're not stupid Jed, far from it." David continued. "Granted, Hannibal has an edge."

"Yeah."

"ON ALL OF US! And not to the extent that you think." David was quick to emphasize. "Hannibal is analytical and needs to think everything through. You're more intuitive, you go on your gut instinct." Jed smirked and rolled his eyes. "No." David continued. "I'm willing to bet that there have been plenty of times when you and Hannibal have butted heads because he was being logical and you just felt that something was wrong. And I'm also willing to bet that more often than not, you ended up being right."

"Yeah…well…"

"Yeah." David again emphasized. "You're not stupid Jed. You just have to find another way to solve the problem. If the fast talking politicians run circles around you, then you come at them in a straight line."

"I don't know how." Jed admitted with a frustrated sigh.

"I have every confidence that you'll figure it out." David assured him. "You have a lot of people here who are willing to help you too. Don't sell them short. Look what Beth and Bridget did to get you pardoned. They got that campaign going pretty much on their own. They did not let self-doubt get in the way; they knew what their goal was and they aimed straight at it. With those two ladies on your side you can move mountains."

Jed smiled. "Yeah, that was pretty amazing wasn't it?"

"Sure was." David agreed. "And with Mr. McCreedy willing to help and Miss Hale…did she really kick you out?"

Jed looked a little sheepish. "No, not really." He admitted. "She just told me to smarten up and get by butt in gear. That Heyes couldn't just sit around in prison for ever and that I better start getting around to whatever it was I was going to do to get him out." Jed sighed. "So, between her nagging at me, and Jesse giving me what for—well, it finally sunk home that I better figure out what was wrong with me and do something about it. You're the only one I could think of who was willing to leave that door open, so—here I am. Even at that I couldn't just come and ask for your help, I had to go get drunk first."

"Well." David smiled. "It doesn't matter how you got here, I'm just glad you did. It would have been nice if Miss Hale had let us know that you were with her though. We were all very worried."

"Don't blame her, Doc." Jed said. "I told her you were all mad at me and didn't want to hear from me anyways. She was just going along with what I told her."

"Well, I suppose." David had to accept that, though it still bugged him a bit.

"David?"

"Hmmm?"

"Where are my boots?"

David smiled again. "I hid them."

"Can I have them back?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, even though you sound pretty positive right now, come tonight when everything is quiet and you start mulling stuff over in your mind, you just might decide to take a walk. And I don't want you doing that. Not by yourself—not yet."

"Well—when?"

"Just relax Jed." David advised him. "We'll see."

Just then the front door opened and Tricia came home. It was getting on to supper time.

2:15 a.m. David jerked awake from a sound sleep. He lay quiet for a few moments, his wife laying beside, snoring softly. He got out of bed and quickly started to get dressed, for warmth just as much as for modesty. Tricia stirred and briefly woke up. She couldn't see her husband, but she knew he was there, standing by the bed.

"What's the matter?" She asked him sleepily. "Why are you up?"

"Jed's awake." He answered bluntly.

Tricia stopped breathing and lay there listening for a few seconds.

"I don't hear anything." She said. "How do you know?"

She could feel him shrug his shoulders in the darkness.

"I donno." He admitted. "Go back to sleep Babe, I won't be long." Then added under his breath; "I hope."

As soon as David stepped out of his bedroom, he could see the low light coming from the kitchen and made his way down the hallway and into that room. Jed was up and fully dressed, pacing around in his stocking feet. He was agitated, his lips moving in a silent argument with himself and it was hard to tell who was winning.

"Jed?"

Curry spun round in a flash, his right hand dropping to the gun that wasn't there. Then he saw David and relaxed.

"Jeez David." He breathed. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"How you doing?" David asked him, ignoring the warning. "Do you want to talk?"

"No." Jed answered flatly. "What I want is out. Let me out!"

"No."

Curry suddenly came at him, his body hostile. David fought the urge to step back and he held his ground and held his eye. Jed stopped just short of grabbing David's shirt front and becoming violent.

"You've got no right to keep me here!" Jed insisted, his voice getting louder and angrier.

David silently sent a plea to Tricia that she stay in the bedroom. He didn't want her becoming involved in this.

"I have every right." David contradicted him. "It was either here or the jailhouse again, and I think you've seen enough of the inside of that place."

Jed glared at him, but then backed off and started to pace the kitchen again. He was running his hands through his hair, looking like he was going to explode. David came further into the kitchen and set about lighting the stove. Time for some coffee.

"What are you feeling Jed?"

"What?!"

"How do you feel? Tell me."

"I donno!"

"Yes you do." David insisted. "Think about it and then tell me."

"Arrggg!" Jed couldn't have sounded more frustrated. "Restless!" He finally stated. "Mad! I'm angry!"

"Angry at what?"

"YOU! For not letting me out!"

"No, that's not it." David insisted. "You woke up feeling angry. Why?"

Jed stopped pacing and leaned against the far wall, his back to the doctor, looking totally dejected. David continued to make coffee.

"I donno." Jed finally mumbled.

"Not good enough." David answered. "Why are you so angry Jed?"

Then Jed turned away from the wall and quickly sat down at the table before he fell down. His body had just turned to jelly and suddenly he was sobbing, but he was fighting it, choking it back.

"No, Jed." David assured him. "It's alright. Let it out."

"NO!" Jed continued to fight it, but the sobs attacked him and with one final, gasping; "No!" he succumbed and his misery took him over.

David quickly sat down beside him, putting an arm across his shoulders and rubbing his back.

"It's alright Jed. It's alright."

David caught movement in the corner of his eye and looked up to see Tricia standing in the hallway. He smiled quietly at her, assuring her that all was well and she nodded and turned back to the bedroom.

It took a good fifteen to twenty minutes before the sobs started to ease off. By that time the coffee was ready and David got up and poured them both a cup, then returning to the table he gave one to Jed.

"Here." He offered. "Have some coffee. I made it extra strong."

"Yeah, thanks." Came the strained response. He was still struggling.

David began rubbing his back again, hoping to sooth him, to relax him.

"My ma." Jed began, still fighting emotion. "Ahhh David, she was so beautiful and so kind. She was my best friend—I loved her so much. And those men, they just came and they….they just raped her, over and over and over again. And I couldn't do anything. I couldn't protect her."

"I know." David consoled him, feeling like he might start crying himself. "That was a terrible thing for you to witness. No child should have to see that."

Jed nodded. He sniffed and wiped his eyes and then took a good swallow of coffee. It was hot and he could feel it burning his throat, but it felt good and it helped to calm him down a little bit more.

"Now Heyes." Jed continued. "It was my job to watch his back. I always told him, I would always be there to watch his back." He stopped and wiped his eyes again. The sobs had eased off but the tears still fell freely. "I didn't watch his back. He's my partner and I didn't watch his back! I just—we walked right into that ambush. I should have been paying more attention, but I let my guard down and….and now, he's stuck in that prison and…and I don't know…if I'm going to be able to get him out."

"You can't be on alert all the time, Jed." David told him. "Hannibal doesn't blame you. He's worried about you."

Jed tried to laugh through his tears. "He's the one in prison and he's worried about me?"

"Yes." David confirmed. "He misses you and wants to see you."

Jed took a deep breath and sighed. "I just couldn't face him." He admitted. "I was sure he would know that I'd let him down—that he wouldn't want to see me."

"No, you couldn't have been more wrong." David assured him. "The letter he sent me was filled with concern. He very much wants to see you."

Jed nodded and took another gulp of coffee.

"You okay now?" David asked him. "Think you can get some more sleep?"

Jed gave a huge cleansing sigh and then nodded again. "Yeah."

"Good." David agreed. "Tomorrow is…no I should say, today is Saturday and the Jordan's have invited us out to lunch, weather permitting. So we can all sleep in a little bit and have an easy day. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

David slipped into the warm bed and nestled into his wife. She shifted position and got comfortable with his arms around her.

"A lot more to him than just what the dime novels say." Tricia commented.

"Umm hmmm." Came the muffled reply.

Tricia smiled and gave her husband a gentle caress on his arm.

"You're a good man, David."

"Hmmmm."

Later that morning, when Jed came out to the kitchen for coffee he spied his coat and boots waiting for him.

"Oh, good." He commented. "And my gun?"

"That's still over at the Sheriff's office." David informed him.

"Oh. And my hat?"

"Probably with your gun."

"Oh." A moments' silence while Jed sipped his coffee. Then; "Can I get them back?"

"No."

"But I feel naked going outside without my gun!"

Then suddenly he looked a little embarrassed and sent Tricia a furtive glance. Tricia smiled and went back to focusing on breakfast. David furrowed his brow wondering what that was all about.

"I don't want you having a gun just yet." David carried on. "I don't think it's safe. I want to be sure that you're in control again."

"I'm fine."

"We'll see."

Jed sighed. David could be such a mother sometimes.

"I'll need a hat."

"You can borrow one of mine."

"David!"

"No."

Jed sighed again. Tricia placed a pile of flapjacks on the table and started to dish out the bacon.

"Come on boys, stop your arguing." She told them. "Sit down and eat breakfast."

David grabbed the coffee pot and took it over to the table to pour out three cups and then returned it to the stove, giving his wife a little peck on the cheek as he did so. Jed sat down at the table, sulking.

Still, by the time he'd had his second coffee and his first decent meal in days, Jed had resolved himself to the situation and was actually in a good mood. He was feeling a little nervous about going out to see the Jordan's that afternoon, not really being sure what Jesse's reaction was going to be but he also wanted to go see them and apologize. Hopefully he hadn't burned his bridges there.

Later in the morning Jed and David walked over to the livery stable to get the horses ready for the trip out to the Double J ranch. The hostler saw them coming and brought David's little chestnut gelding out of his stall and began to get him harnessed up for the surrey ride while Jed carried on past them down to where Buck was stalled.

"Hey Buck, old man. How ya doin' this morning?" Jed asked him as he gave his horse a rub on the neck.

Buck had been pretty done in after their ride over from Denver but fortunately Jed had enough sense and regard for his horse to make sure that he at least was stabled and bedded down before he went over to the saloon to have a drink—or two. Jed was relieved to see that this morning his horse was looking bright eyed and eager for some exercise.

Jed grabbed his tack from the saddle racks and proceeded to get his gelding geared up and ready to go. Twenty minutes later they were in front of the Gibson's house and Tricia came out to join her husband in the surrey and with Jed riding Buck along beside them, they all headed out of town.

It had turned out to be a cloudy day, but it didn't feel like it was going to snow again so nobody anticipated any trouble getting to and from the ranch that day. Even the roads were in pretty good shape since there was enough traffic to and fro to keep them well packed down. All in all it was not a bad day and everyone was enjoying the opportunity to get out for some fresh air, and of course a visit with friends.

Trotting down the lane leading to the ranch house, Jed spotted Karma out in the field. She had a couple of the other riding horses out there with her, but as soon as she spied her old friend coming she whinnied to him and came trotting over to the fence line. Buck greeted her, but knowing that he was under saddle and expected to do his human's bidding he didn't stop or try to pull off the road. There would be time for a re-union soon.

They continued on into the yard to the chorus of barking dogs and Sam came out of the barn to greet them and grab hold of the chestnut's bridle.

"Afternoon Sam."

"Howdy Doc, Mrs. Gibson." Sam answered. "How's the road?"

"Good." Said David. "No problems at all."

Sam smiled. "That's good to hear. Once I get your horses settled with some lunch I'll be heading in to see Maribelle. Sure didn't want to have to deal with bad roads."

"You and Miss Riley seem to be getting quite serious Sam." Tricia commented, with a smile. "Is there going to be a wedding this summer?"

Sam blushed. "I donno." He mumbled shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe."

David rolled his eyes at his wife's teasing. Meanwhile Jed had dismounted and seeing that Sam had his hands full with the harness horse, lead Buck into the barn and settled him into his usual stall. He grabbed some hay from the feed room and threw it into the stall and then headed back outside, passing Sam who was just bringing the other gelding in for some lunch himself.

As soon as Jed had exited the barn he got hit with a tingling of fear and guilt as he saw Jesse standing there talking to the Gibson's. Then the older man turned and met Jed's eye and Curry dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling very much ashamed of himself. Jesse smiled and extended his hand.

"C'mon Jed." He said. "Welcome home."

Jed felt a wash of relief and the two men shook hands.

"Thanks Jesse." He answered, with an awkward smile. "I'm real sorry about…well…"

"Yeah, I know. Me too."

Then much to Jed's surprise and a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure, Jesse pulled him into a quick hug and a slap on the back.

"Com'on up to the house." Jesse invited them. "The ladies are all looking forward to seeing you."

The greeting Jed got inside the house couldn't have been any more welcoming. The hug that Belle gave him was the warmest he'd had in ages and the girls each grabbed one of his hands in theirs and refused to relinquish their holds until lunch was served.

The atmosphere around the table very quickly became relaxed and comfortable and the conversation flowed easily just as it should between good friends getting together. They talked about everything from the price of beef and the crop of foals and calves expected that coming spring all the way to Mrs. Thornton's expectant arrival and the possibility of Sam and Maribelle becoming wed come summer time. This last topic being met by a snort of derision from Bridget and then a quick reprimanding look from her mother.

Throughout most of this conversation Jed stayed relatively quiet. He knew he felt better after having bared his soul to David, but at the same time also felt embarrassed for blubbering like a baby in front of him. Here he was supposed to be this intimidating gunfighter who could squash men down into the floorboards with his icy stare and David hadn't even back down. Far from being intimidated the good Doctor had taken the ex-outlaw by the hand and then quietly but firmly brought him emotionally to his knees.

Even Heyes had never done that—course, Heyes had never tried. But then again, Heyes was just as damaged as Curry was; it would have been like the blind leading the blind.

Jed sat there watching his friend across the table talking and laughing with the family, relaxed and animated with the conversation and he felt a slight twinge of resentment. It should be Heyes sitting there with them. It should be Heyes helping Kid get through this difficult time—but then if it was Heyes sitting there then Jed wouldn't be having a difficult time! But still, it didn't seem right that this man whom Jed had only known for about ten months had reached that level of trust that Jed had allowed himself to show his vulnerability. Geesh, Kid had been, well—a kid!—the last time he had cried in front of Heyes! It almost felt like a betrayal to his partner.

Then Jed inwardly shook his head and admonished himself for thinking such nonsense! A person was allowed to have two close friends in their lives—for goodness sakes! His friendship with David didn't detract from his friendship with Heyes and besides that, David was a doctor. He knew how to get under somebody's skin and pull out their innermost secrets. Hmmm, that man really needed to be watched. OHH Dammit! There he went again, getting all guarded and defensive!

Why couldn't he just accept the fact that David was his friend? He had assured David of that very thing himself in Cheyenne after Morrison had tried to undermine their relationship. According to Belle even Heyes had a high regard for the good doctor—respecting him and admiring him for his intelligence and abilities displayed when he saved Curry's life. Indeed, Heyes felt an undying debt of gratitude towards David for that very thing. It's highly doubtful that Heyes would feel any resentment towards Curry's friendship with him.

Still, Curry felt guilty. Come to think of it, guilt seemed to be all that Curry could feel these days—what was that all about? Guilt about not being able to protect his mother. Guilt about shooting down that raider right in front of his young daughter. Guilt about blindly walking himself and Heyes into that ambush. Guilt about yelling at Jesse. Guilt now about not sending Heyes a letter all through the winter—not even at Christmas. And oh! Christmas! Something else to feel guilty about. What he had put this family through after everything they had done for him and for Heyes! And that look that Jesse had sent him, that day on the train coming back from Cheyenne. It had almost been one of disgust and anger—what was that all about? Was there something else Jed was supposed to be feeling guilty about? Ohhh brother.

Then, over afternoon coffee the discussion just seemed, by natural selection to settle onto Joshua and Jed was pulled away from his disturbing inner musings and began to listen with interest.

"So how is he doing, Doc?" Jesse asked. "Have you heard anything?"

"Yes!" David admitted after a bit of pastry. "Sheriff Trevors sent me a quick note to assure me that he was feeling much better. The worst is apparently over."

"That's certainly good to hear." Belle spoke for them all.

"Yes, it was getting quite worrisome." David agreed. "Apparently Hannibal hasn't been eating and that contributed to his illness being as bad as it was. He's lost a lot of weight, but he is being encouraged to eat, so…."

Throughout this intercourse Jed sat silently at the table with mouth open and a slightly incredulous look on his face.

"What are you saying?" He finally asked. "Heyes has been ill?"

"Yes, pneumonia." David told him. "It was quite bad for a while and we were all very worried. You friend Sheriff Trevors braved the bad weather and made the trip to the prison to make sure he was being looked after properly."

"Why didn't anybody tell me?!" Jed demanded somewhat indignantly.

"Well for one thing nobody knew where you were!" Jesse threw back at him

Jed's expression fell and he suddenly looked very contrite. "Oh, yeah." He mumbled. "But he's doing okay now, right?"

"Yes." David assured him. "Apparently there is a convent close by and the Sisters will often come and help care for the inmates if they become quite ill, so with that in mind I would think that Hannibal had the best care he could have gotten anywhere."

"Oh, good." Jed breathed a sigh of relief. "Jeez, what if he'd….." He couldn't quite finish that sentence.

"Then you would have had one more thing to feel guilty about." David answered bluntly and Jed wondered if David could actually read minds as well. "Fortunately it didn't come to that."

Jed didn't answer. More and more he was beginning to see what a fool he had been and the damage that had been done and could have been done because of it. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over into Beth's brown eyes and quiet smile and couldn't help but smile back at her. She really was very pretty.

"So Thaddeus." Belle began gently. "Do you think you might feel like writing Joshua a letter now?"

Jed looked over at her and shook his head. "No." He answered her, and a heavy silence surrounded the table. "I think it's time I went to see him."

Jed took the train into Wyoming, the weather still being too cold and unpredictable to ride horseback, or attempt the stage. He felt a certain amount of trepidation taking that means of transportation considering what his last train ride heading in this direction had been like. Of course it brought back thoughts of Hank and Morrison and all the stuff that had happened during those months of incarceration. He thought guiltily of Wheat Carlson, knowing that he never had enquired as to how that outlaw was doing and tried to console himself by the assurance that if Wheat had succumbed to that bullet wound Jed would have heard about it, one way or another.

He wondered fleetingly if him getting in touch with members of his old gang would be in violation of his pardon and simply stir up more trouble than it was worth. He quickly vetoed the idea; there was no need to dig up the past. Lom would know what was going on with the gang and would pass on any information that he thought would be relevant so best just to leave it at that. Still, there were a lot of reminders of his old life on this train ride.

The Devil's Hole Gang was still active in the area and everyone traveling by train or coach was very much aware of it. All the women were trying to keep their children within sight and all the men wore sidearms and many carried rifles as well. Kid was kind of glad that they weren't stopping trains anymore; sooner or later the next train robbery could have been their last. Some of the glances that were sent his way reminded him that his identity was probably known by the other passengers, and even though nobody was making a point of it, it did kind of make him nervous.

Then he just about hit the roof and his right hand did what it always does when he's startled, all because some overactive youngster let loose the yell; "KID CURRY!" in the aisle right behind the Kid's seat. Then the boy went running past holding up a toy gun, and repeated: "I'M KID CURRY! Bang! Bang!" Kids are always expressive when it comes to their own sound effects. Then another would-be train robber came running down the isle;

"Well, I'm Hannibal Heyes and I'm the best bank robber there ever was!"

"No you're not!" Came the response from the first boy. "Hannibal Heyes is in prison, so how could you be the best?! Kid Curry is the best!"

And then they were gone, off into the next car being chased by an imaginary posse. Kid Curry relaxed back into his seat again and breathed a sigh of…something. He wasn't really sure how he felt right about then. A certain amount of relief that he himself would hopefully never be chased by a posse again, and a little bit of pride that he was being thought of as 'the best'. But he also felt a bit hurt that Heyes was already being considered a 'has-been'. That wasn't right.

Hannibal Heyes was the best outlaw that had ever been, or ever would be as far as Kid was concerned. He felt like standing up and shouting it to the whole train that they couldn't just write him off like that. He was a legend! He was a genius—even if Heyes did say so himself! Kid wanted to grab those boys by the scruff of their necks and shake some respect into them. But all he did was sigh and look out the window at the partially snow covered landscape going by.

Spring was coming—it was just around the corner. It was almost a year ago that Heyes and Kid had run into Jesse in that town of the forgotten name and he had talked the boys into coming to visit. It seemed like just yesterday and an eternity ago. Almost a year since he had last seen his cousin, not counting that very brief glimpse in Cheyenne, that didn't really count. Kid sat back and rubbed his right shoulder; it was aching. He and David were going to have to get back after that when he returned to Brookswood.

Almost a year. Kid found himself still feeling that little bit of trepidation at the thought of seeing his cousin again under these circumstances. Kid was scared to see his partner caged up and in chains like some wild animal and he wasn't sure how he was going to handle that. How would Heyes look? Would he look like a convict now? Or would it be the same old Heyes sitting there, the sheer force of his personality still shining through? Curry didn't think he could handle it if Heyes were a broken man and Kid would see it right away, even if Heyes tried to hide it, Kid would see it. And then Curry would be a broken man too.

Jed sighed and tried to relax; this train ride was taking longer than he wanted it to.

Saturday! Finally! The weather was starting to warm up just a tad, but enough so that those who wished to spend some time outside could do so and Heyes definitely wanted to. Finally, some fresh air and not so cold as to freeze your lungs. He spent about half an hour outside in the yard, walking briskly around the perimeter to try and get his blood pumping a bit; to feel like a human being again. Unfortunately the air was still too cold for his recuperating lungs and a sore ribcage. It wasn't long before he started coughing and had to head back indoors. Still that short time outside did a lot to brighten his spirits and he actually ate more than half his lunch this time around.

Then, as was his usual routine on Saturdays, he took himself a cup of coffee and headed back to his cell with the intentions of reading the afternoon away. The temperatures had noticeably warmed up inside the prison and his cell had actually become quite a comfortable haven instead of the claustrophobic shoebox he had first described it as. Therefore it was with a certain amount of irritation that only an hour after sitting on his cot and settling in to read his book, Pearson showed up at his door with the inevitable command;

"Convict! Follow me!"

Heyes groaned inwardly but closed his book and allowed the guard to escort to wherever he had to go. His irritation started to diminish to some degree as he recognized the route though the hallway leading him towards the visitors' room. Murrey met them in the anti-chamber again and Heyes allowed himself to be pushed up against the wall, searched and then shackled once more. Not that he actually had any choice in the matter, he thought sardonically. But of course this time he didn't feel the same anxiety he had felt when he was first brought here to see Sister Julia. The only question in his mind now was; who was coming to visit him?

Pearson shuffled him into the next room and got him seated down at the table before turning and going to carry on with his duties. Just like before Murrey stayed to stand guard, rifle at the ready just in case anybody got too riled up. Heyes glanced back at him then sighed and turned to face forward and await whoever it was that was coming to visit him.

When the door opened and his visitor stepped self-consciously into the room, Heyes totally forgot about protocol and was halfway to his feet before Murrey had a chance to step forward and grabbing him by the belt, haul him back into the chair again.

"What do ya think you're doin' Heyes!" Murrey demanded. "Sit down and stay there or this visit's over—now!"

Kid instantly felt anger and resentment rush over him at that lackey actually treating Hannibal Heyes in such a demeaning manner. Murrey saw the ice daggers headed his way and instantly brought the rifle up into a ready position. Was he actually going to have trouble with the visitor now?

"No, Kid relax." Heyes told him, his smile so deep the dimples took over his whole face. "Sit down. Oh God, it's so good to see ya'! C'mon Kid, sit down."

"Heyes." Curry greeted his cousin, while sending a nasty glare over to the guard, but then he brought his gaze back to the inmate and really looked at Heyes for the first time in ten months.

He couldn't hide the shock in his expression! Was that really his cousin sitting there? He knew it was, the voice was his and there was no disguising those dimples but the shaved head, the pale complexion and the weight loss did so much to otherwise change the appearance of his friend that Kid found it hard to believe it was really him.

Heyes' smile softened and he looked a little sad at the shock and the pity he saw—just for an instant—in the Kid's eyes. Then it was gone and Curry smiled back at him and sat down at the table, opposite him.

"Do I really look that different Kid?" Heyes asked with a little trepidation.

"I donno Heyes." Jed was suddenly feeling awkward. "I guess, I just…jeez, they shaved off all your hair!"

"Yeah." Heyes shrugged. "Maybe next winter Bridget can knit me a hat. I really feel the cold now."

"Well it might help if ya ate somethin' Heyes." Curry reprimanded him. Any anxiety he had been feeling about seeing his cousin again had disappeared and he had naturally fallen into the same old rhythm of their relationship. "Lom said you weren't eating and that you've been real sick too and by the look of ya I'd say he's right."

Heyes scowled a little bit. "Lom talks too much." He said. "I'm fine."

"Ya don't look fine Heyes!" Curry retorted. "Ya look a mess!"

"You're a fine one to talk!" Heyes threw back at him. "Lom says you been drinkin'—a lot! And hanging out at the brothel every night! What the hell was that all about?!"

"Nothin'." Curry mumbled looking a little shame-faced. "Lom talks too much."

Heyes settled back in his chair, giving his cousin a discerning look. "Yeah, well. You doin' better now?"

"Yeah. You?"

Heyes shrugged. "I guess. We just don't do so good when we're apart, do we."

"No, I don't suppose so."

Then Heyes smiled. "Sure is good to see ya, Kid."

Curry smiled back, relief very evident in his eyes. "Yeah. It's good to see you too Heyes. I'm sorry it took so long for me to….well…get in touch. I just…."

"I know Kid." Heyes assured him. "David kept me up on what was goin' on with ya."

"Oh." Jed looked a little embarrassed but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised since David had mentioned that he and Heyes had been in touch. "I'm sorry Heyes."

"What about?"

"I let my guard down." Curry insisted. "Being with the Jordan's like that, I just let myself relax too much. I led us right into that ambush. This is all my fault."

"Awww Kid, I told ya before this weren't your doing." Heyes reminded him. "I don't blame you for this—never did."

"Yeah…well." Curry mumbled. "We're doin' everything we can to get you outta here, ya know. You'd be amazed at what Beth and Bridget have accomplished and Clem too. And of course, Lom. Oh and Big Mac! You should have seen him at the trial Heyes! He had everyone running for cover!" Curry actually laughed at the memory of it.

"Yeah." Heyes smiled. "I can just imagine. Good ole' Uncle Mac."

Then Curry went serious again. "We'll get ya out Heyes. Just hang in there."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes answered, though he didn't sound too optimistic.

Then Curry lowered his voice, suddenly aware again of Murrey standing over by the door.

"What's it like Heyes?" He asked. "Is it as bad as we thought it would be?"

Heyes swallowed and his pale complexion paled even more.

"It's worse." He admitted.

"Worse?!" Kid repeated incredulously. "How could it be worse?"

"I donno." Heyes shrugged. "Maybe it's just cause it's real now. It's always cold, and the food is terrible—so you'd have a real hard time in here. I'm always having to watch my back cause there's always somebody wanting to challenge me or teach me a new 'rule'. You know they don't even tell you the rules when you first get here; they just leave ya to find out on your own. Ya don't learn the rules until you break what is apparently a rule and then they whacked ya with these damn bully clubs all the guards carry. So that's how you learn what a rule is, cause you get hit for breakin' it!

"Then some of the guards try to set you up so that you inadvertently break a rule just so they can punish you! I swear some of em' just like to hurt ya'! One, unfortunately he's also the senior guard, well he's worse than Morrison!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Jeez, I'm still carrying some bruises from him—and I hadn't even done anything! He just suspected that I was thinkin' about doing something!"

"And were you?"

"Yeah, but that's beside the point! But then there's this other guard, Kenny Reece, he's an okay guy so if you ever need to talk to one of the guards, he's the one to see. Though he's still given me a few bruises too, for fightin' or for mouthin' off about something."

"Really? Can't imagine."

"Yeah! And then they have this place called 'the dark cell'! Oh, you don't want to end up in there Kid. It's terrible! Its pitch black in there, like no sound or light can get into it and they'll lock ya in there for days at a time and it just about drives you mad. I'm sure there are spiders in there and goodness knows what else! No, you definitely don't want to end up in there Kid—gives me the shivers just thinkin' about it.

"I guess it's not all bad though. There's a library here as such, though it didn't take me long to read most of the books that are here. So then I asked the Doc for some medical journals cause after seeing what David did to save your life, well that kind of got me interested in that stuff, so I've been reading a lot of those. Now I get to go over to the infirmary one day a week to help out over there. Mostly just cleanin' stuff and maybe helping the Doc with stitching up a cut or something, but it's still a break from the work floor. And Doc Morin, he's a pretty good guy, considering what he'd got to put up with. He drinks a bit, but you can hardly blame him for that, coming to work every day in this place.

"Oh and then Sister Julia came by to see me!"

"Sister Julia? Really?"

"Yeah! It's was really sweet of her. Apparently she moved to the convent here in town and the Sisters all help out here when they're needed. She really did a lot when I got sick there. I don't know what happened to Sister Isabelle, come to think of it, I never asked about that—maybe I should.

"Then there's chapel every Sunday for those who want to attend and that's kind of a nice break, you know, kind of makes ya feel a bit better even if it's just for a little while."

"I never saw you as a church goin' man Heyes."

"No, no I'm not generally, but the minister who usually comes to give the sermon is a woman, so that kind of makes it worth while to go and listen to her preach. It's kind of nice hearing a woman's voice in this God forsaken place once in a while."

"Really? A woman?"

"Yeah."

"Is she pretty?"

"Kid! I'm ashamed of you! Thinkin' stuff like that about a preacher woman!"

"Oh, sorry."

"She truly cares about the people here and puts a lot of effort into her sermons. She really does make a difference here on Sunday mornings! Such a nice voice too, and she really can throw it so even if you're sittin' way back behind everybody else, you can still hear what she's sayin'. And it's none of that hellfire and brimstone stuff we used to get at Valparaiso either. Its real kind stuff—almost makes you want to believe it's true."

"Oh….so… is she pretty?"

"Well…no, now that you ask. But that doesn't matter. She's still a woman isn't she? At least it's a little bit of a diversion from this hell hole! And a man can fantasize can't he? At least that's one thing they can't take away from us in here. Jeez, I've been havin' strange dreams lately."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"I don't know where they're coming from; I never used to have dreams like that! And they really seem real, ya know? They've gotten me into trouble a few times, wakin' up and thinkin' it's all real. Then ya get someone like Carson who just loves to get ya at a disadvantage."

"Carson?"

"The head guard. C'mon Kid, keep up."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, Carson has got me good a few times because of dreams that I think are real and its bad enough trying to deal with things that are real without having to deal with things that aren't real and you just think they are. It gets real confusing sometimes.

Oh! I forgot to mention—the really big rule, I've gotten whacked quite a few times for breakin' this one, mainly cause it just don't make any sense. Ya' know they don't allow ya' to talk in here? Not at all! Not unless a guard asks you a direct question and then you can only answer like in one word 'yes' or 'no', that kind of thing! Can you imagine, not being able to talk at all?!"

"No talking?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh. Well, that explains it."

"What?"

"Nothin'"

"Hmmm. Oh, and now that winter is finally starting to fade away we actually get some time outside on the weekends. I was out in the yard this morning for a little while and it sure felt good to get some fresh air again. It was still a little too cold for me though, considering I'm still kinda getting' my strength back from being ill. But it still was nice to get outside for a while. And then on the weekends, like now when we're not in service, or got visitors I can just go and read in my cell and relax for a while. That's kind of nice; don't have to watch my back so much in there. One of the other prisoners thinks he's the big rooster here—like that actually amounts to anything! And he keeps thinkin' I want to take over so he's always laying in wait for me, trying to get me into a fight—but I got him good awhile back!" He smiled with the memory. "So hopefully he got the hint to leave me alone. Still, I think there's going to be trouble with him yet—I can just feel it in my bones, ya' know?" Big sigh. "So, you're being awfully quiet Kid. What's goin' on at home?"

"Oh! Ahhh let me think." Kid was taken off guard. "Oh, Jesse wanted me to ask you if it'd be alright for him to breed Karma this spring. He said he'd like to get some new blood into his breeding program and he thinks he could get a real nice stud colt if he could breed her to the right stallion."

"I gave Karma to him." Heyes answered. "It's up to him what he does with her. Though I would appreciate it if he doesn't sell her."

"He's not gonna sell her Heyes. Besides, he never took you serious about you givin' her to him." Kid explained. "He knew you said that just because you were desperate to keep her safe. As far as Jesse is concerned he has Karma on loan and she's yours just as soon as we can get you outta here."

"Hmmm." Was Heyes' noncommittal response. "How is she doin'?"

"Good. Fat and shaggy!" Curry informed him with a smile. "Beth has really taken to her and rides her whenever weather permits. So she's doin' good. Still." He added reflectively. "I see her sometimes gazing off to the horizon and I know she's lookin' for you. But she likes Beth too, so she's alright Heyes."

"Yeah, that's good." Heyes looked a little sad, missing his mare and the wild gallops they used to share and enjoy so much. Oh well.

"You haven't answered my question Heyes."

"Hmmm? What was that?"

"Is it alright with you if Jesse breeds her this spring?"

"Oh, sure!" Heyes agreed, and then he smiled, becoming reflective himself. "Might do her some good. Maybe being a mother will help her to develop some common sense."

"Yeah, well just remember you said that Heyes—not me!"

Heyes nodded. "So how are the girls doing?"

"Fine." Curry answered, and then brightened. "OH! Bridget and Sam are courting!"

"WHAT!?" Suddenly Heyes was half out of his chair again. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN BRIDGET AND SAM ARE COURTING!?"

"Settle down Heyes!" Came Murrey's warning from behind him. "Sit down!"

Heyes sent a furtive but resentful glance back at the guard, but did as he was told. Then he lowered his voice to a quiet, but angry whisper.

"What do you mean they're courting?" He asked again through tight lips.

"Well, what?" Asked the Kid, confused. "What….? OH! No! Not each other!"

Heyes sat back in his chair, his whole body relaxing in a relieved sigh.

"Oh, thank goodness." He stated. "For a minute there I thought I was going to have to break out of here and go shake some sense into that girl."

This statement was met by an incredulous snorkel from the guard.

"Fat chance of that." Kid commented. "Her courting Sam, that is. She never did let him forget his part in all this."

"That's my girl."

"Jeez Heyes! You and Bridget; two peas in a pod." Kid complained. "Neither one of ya is big on forgiveness are ya? Sam's not a bad kid, he just made a mistake. He's sorry for it now."

"Yeah, well. When you're goin' down for the third time it's kinda hard to forgive the person who threw ya' off the boat in the first place."

Kid thought that was an odd analogy for Heyes to be using.

"You readin' 'Moby Dick' again?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, I've just noticed in the past that often the book you happen to be readin' at the time influences the way you say things."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Well, are ya'?"

"Well…yeah." Heyes admitted, a little self-consciously. "Don't see that it matters." Then he brightened up and went back to the original topic. "So, Bridget's courting somebody?"

"Oh, yeah!" Kid came back to that. "Steven Granger."

"The lawyer?"

"Yeah. Steven's getting ready to move his practice to Denver and then Bridget is going to go and work for him as his assistant and live with Clem until other arrangements can be made."

"Oh!" Heyes remarked. "Yeah, Clem mentioned something about that. So that's what was behind Granger coming out to the ranch for Thanksgiving—to get this sort of organized."

"Yeah."

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, that's good." He commented. "I think they'll be good together. Get Bridget away from that idea of 'law enforcement'!" Then he smiled and gave Kid a slightly wicked look. "Clem also mentioned that Beth is kinda sweet on you. Course, I knew that before, but it's kind of nice to have it confirmed."

Kid suddenly looked embarrassed again. "Jeez! Clem talks too much."

"It's about time you settled down and took yourself a wife." Heyes teased him. "You're kinda running outta options ya know."

"She's so young Heyes!"

"Well, I suppose the longer you wait, the older she gets." Heyes pointed out. "But still, a lot of men take wives who are a lot younger than they are. Especially when they get started late, like us. C'mon Kid, you've always wanted a family—now's your chance. What are ya waitin' for?"

"I'm just not ready." Kid mumbled. "Not yet."

Then the two friends locked eyes for a moment, understanding passing between them.

"Hmmm." Heyes commented. "Well, don't hang on too long Kid. Don't let life pass you by."

"You're not gonna be the one payin' for my happiness Heyes." Curry insisted. "You have the right to a good life too. You've earned it. I'm gonna get you outta here, cause for one thing—well, like you said; we just don't do well when we're apart."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes agreed.

"Not only did I mess up Christmas for everyone, but I missed your birthday as well." Curry admonished himself. "I didn't even bring ya' a present."

"Yeah, ya' did Kid." Heyes assured him with a smile. "You brought me the best birthday present I've ever had."

They both locked eyes again and smiled.

"Yeah, okay." Curry agreed. "Likewise, I guess. Happy Birthday Heyes."

"Happy Birthday Kid."

"It's going to be Jay's first birthday here in a couple of weeks." Curry mentioned. "That little fella is growin' like a weed. You should see him Heyes. He's going to be a real scraper."

"I suppose." Heyes mumbled, feeling like he was losing out on all the fun stuff."

"We'll get you out Heyes." Kid reiterated again. "You'll see him soon. Just hang in there."

Heyes brightened up, more for Curry's sake rather than his own optimism.

"I know Kid." He assured his cousin. "I'll hang in. Not much choice, really."

Then Murrey pushed himself off the wall and came towards them.

"Okay, your hours up." He announced. "Wrap it up."

"Oh." Heyes sounded disappointed. "Already?"

"Oh." Kid repeated. Now that he had actually got himself here, he didn't want to leave. He was finding it very hard to say 'goodbye' to his cousin and then turn around and walk away.

The two men looked at each other, neither one wanting to break contact.

"C'mon, break it up!" Murrey ordered. "Let's go!"

"Yeah. I guess you better go Kid." Said Heyes, who was more accustomed to following the guards orders than Curry was.

Curry nodded sadly. "Okay." He agreed and got to his feet, preparing to leave. "I'll try to get here every month Heyes. Gee, an hour a month. That's not very much is it?"

"It's better than nothing." Heyes pointed out. "Thanks for coming Kid. And if you can get out here once a month that would be great. I'll look forward to seeing ya'. Say 'hello' to everybody back home for me will ya'?"

"Yeah, I will Heyes." Curry assured him. Then he just stood there for a moment, looking down at his friend. He had thought that coming here was going to be hard, but leaving was proving to be much harder. Finally he forced himself to break away. "I'll see ya' later Heyes." And he walked over to the door and opened it, preparing to leave.

"Kid?" Heyes called after him.

Curry stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"

"Partners?"

Curry smiled. "Yeah Heyes. Partners."

To Be Continued.

Author's note; The character, Abigail Stewert was developed by Sarah Whyment. I am

using Abi in my stories with the knowledge, and permission of Sarah and many of the

later scenes including Abi, especially in 'Ghosts' were contributed by Sarah.

If you would like to read up on the history of Heyes and Abi you can find Sarah's stories

here;

page/Sarah+Whyment


	16. Chapter 16

Hindsight

Heyes was feeling much better. His appetite had returned and even though, as we are all well aware, he never was one to go back for seconds, he did now tend to clean up what was given him. It cannot be said that the weight piled back onto him, but he did at least stop loosing it and the sallowy hollowness of his features did fill out some and the colour returned to his complexion.

With the weather warming up he was able to spend more time outdoors again and the fresh air worked wonders on not only his health, but also his attitude. It didn't hurt in helping him to sleep better too.

A new prisoner by the name of Carl Harris had arrived and Boeman had decided that it was in his best interests to leave Heyes alone for the time being and turn his focus onto this new wolf in the pack. Heyes couldn't have been happier with that transference; with Boeman now otherwise occupied Heyes only really had Carson to worry about. So for the time being he was able to drop his vigilance to some degree and as long as he knew where Carson was, he could feel somewhat safer regarding his back.

His time over in the infirmary was also helping to make life in the prison a little more bearable. He finally had a job to do that could challenge his intellect and he found Dr. Morin to be an interesting and co-operative teacher. Whenever a prisoner or guard was brought in with some injury or another Heyes was always right there, assisting where he could and constantly asking questions; What do you do when a lung gets punctured? How do you stop excessive bleeding? What's the best way to set a broken bone? .

Many of these procedures Heyes had to perform himself when they were riding the outlaw trail, but it was always by the skin of your teeth—trial and error. Nobody really knew what they were doing, more like; well, it worked last time so let's try it again! A lot of what Heyes learned from Morin excited him and made him want to dig deeper and learn more, but there were other times when the information he gathered depressed him and he would return to his cell in the evening sullen and moody.

He would be filled with remorse and regret during these times; thinking back to friends long-buried whose lives could have been saved if only Heyes had known that simple procedure that Morin had just shown him. He felt things too deeply—Heyes did. Always being the older cousin, the outlaw leader, the one with the brains, the one everybody looked to to make things right. Take charge, be in command, always have the right answer. Then someone in his gang, someone he was responsible for would die, because he hadn't known about that simple procedure that Morin had just shown him.

On those occasions he would regress back to old habits and just pick at his supper and then retire to his cell to lie on his cot, staring at a ceiling he couldn't see until the early morning hours would finally wear him down and he would fall sleep.

On the most part though, his time in the infirmary was a positive influence in his life. Just as Kenny had hoped, Heyes recognized it as a privilege and something that he valued and cherished, therefore it was something to be protected. He stopped laying in wait for any inmate who may have ticked him off; he had decided that retaliation wasn't worth the risk of loosing that one precious day a week when he was allowed to feel human again.

Dr. Morin also found the time with Heyes to be just as stimulating and rewarding as Heyes did himself. Morin was pleased to have his impressions of Heyes be justified ten fold. The convict did indeed have a brilliant mind and was able to grasp the strange words and difficult procedures with hardly any effort at all. Indeed, there were occasions when Morin would feel a slight twinge of jealousy at the ease in which Heyes picked up techniques that Morin himself had had to struggle with before finally conquering them.

Fortunately those feelings did not linger and for the most part Dr. Morin enjoyed his student and was pleased with the man's progress. It should also be noted, for better or for worse that Morin inadvertently ignored Kenny's advice and did indeed forget who Heyes was and the two men gradually slid into a friendship.

One afternoon, after a particularly busy day of treating minor injuries incurred on the work floor, Morin pulled out his bottle of whiskey and invited Heyes to join him for a drink. Heyes smiled; quite tempted by the invite, but hesitant over the legitimacy of it. He was getting too used to following the rules.

"Are you sure that's okay Doc?" He asked while watching Morin pour out two shot glasses for them.

"Hmmm. If you promise not to tell, I'll do the same."

Heyes' smile deepened and he joined Morin at the table. Sitting down he lifted the glass and took a swig. It attacked his senses, burning into his throat and his nasal passage and almost setting his eyes to watering. It was far from top shelf, but it was the best thing Heyes had tasted in many a long month.

He set the empty glass down and Morin refilled it.

"There ya' go son, one for the road." He said.

"Thank you." Was Heyes' heartfelt response. Then, whether it was the whiskey making him braver or just that he was becoming comfortable in the doctor's presence, Heyes decided to ask a more personal question. "So Doc, how is it that you ended up with such a cushy job like this?"

Morin rolled his eyes. "Ohh, long story son, long story."

Heyes smiled and the mischievous twinkle came into his eye; the perfect example of the charismatic conman.

"I don't see any patients needing attention and it's a least an hour until supper." Heyes observed, his smile deepening.

"Hmmm." Morin sent back at him while he refilled their glasses again. "Well, there's really not much to tell." He began. "I learned doctoring growing up in the logging camps in Washington, up there by the Canadian border. Never went to school, except for the school of hard knocks and I tell ya', there's nothing like seeing a man chop his own foot off to teach ya' fast how to stop a fella from bleeding to death."

"Ahhh, yeah." Heyes agreed. "I can see the incentive."

"Hmmm." The Doc agreed. "Then the war broke out and a bunch of us rough necks decided to make some extra money by smuggling supplies across the border and 'escorting' them down south to help with the effort. That took us a few months of hard travellin', then wouldn't ya know we only got paid about half what we were promised!"

"Ah huh." Heyes commented as he downed another glass. "Thieves all over the place."

"That's for sure." Morin agreed. "So, once we got down to where the fightin' was happening, well we didn't have enough money to go back so we stuck around and decided to join in." Morin emptied his glass and poured another round. "The powers that be found out that I had some doctorin' experience so they pressed me into service in that capacity."

"More on the job trainin'?" Heyes asked with a slurry smirk.

"Damn right! Jesus!" The Doc exclaimed. "And they wonder why I drink!"

"I thought it was cause of the won'erful job ya' got here."

"Hell no!" Came the retort. "I was drinkin' long 'fore I ended up in this backwater cesspool! Jeez! War fin'lly over an' I can't f..find a job worth crap! An' why? Cause I ain't got no licenssssense. Nev'r wen' ta school." Another round of drinks was poured out. "I'm better doc'or than those big eastern trained big shots an' I en' up here, treatin' a bunch a' filthy con'cts!"

"Yea!" Heyes agreed as he downed another glass. "Lowlif's thieves-everyone of em! Ya' deserved better en' that Doc!"

"Yea!, I'll drink ta that!"

"Me too!"

"Hmmm, I wasss sure there wasss another bottle round here somewheres—ohh here it iss."

"Ssso, ya' never married Doc?" Heyes asked, followed by another drink.

"Hell no! No wife—no kids. The war kinda took care a' that! My brother now, he done the resect..spetable thing." Morin squinted at Heyes and waved a finger and a half empty shot glass under his nose. "He came south with me on tha' ill fated sssup..y run, but then he gone an' got hisself a decent job afta' tha' war. Up an' got married and ssset'led down." 'Ats ma' nephew there in Colorada—Yosiph. Good lad! No kids ma'self tho'. Nope—no kids."

Heyes went quiet for a moment. He had been about to agree with Morin in saying that he didn't have any 'kids' either, but it stuck in his craw and he couldn't get it out. Then he swallowed it down with another shot of whiskey—and he changed the subject.

"How long you been here Doc?" He asked.

"Oh crap!" Came the response. "Since forever!" Then he laughed. "An' only an eternity left ta go!"

"Yeah! Me too!"

And the two men started laughing together as though it were the best joke they'd heard all day.

"Sooo…" Heyes started again, trying to get his sentence formulated. "Wha' bout the guards? Yu known 'em a' long time?"

"Ahh, yea!" Morin admitted with a sneer. "'At Carson! Wha' a fxxxxn' asxxxxe! Wha' a pxxxk! Kenny, now ee's a good guy. Ya' ee's a good ung fella."

Heyes smiled at Morin referring to Kenny as 'young' since he was at least fifteen years older than Heyes himself. Still it was all relative he supposed.

"Ya?" Heyes said. "Ee married?"

"Kenny?"

"Ya."

"Oo ya." Morin informed him. "Go' hisself a nice lady an' four young'uns."

"Four?"

"Ya! Three boys an' a girl. Cute-isss' littl' ing ya ever seen."

"Awww, 'ats nice." Heyes mumbled. "Nothin' like a daugh-er!"

"WHAT THE HELL! Aww Doc! You getting your trustee drunk-again!"

"Aaaa, Kenny! We wa' jus' talkin' bout yu!"

Heyes groaned and dropped his forehead down onto his arms that were resting on the table. Was he ever in for it now!

"Come on Heyes, on your feet." Kenny ordered him as he grabbed one of Heyes arms and started to pull him up. "If you can that it."

"Aww, we wa' jus' havin' a frien'ly drink, Kenny." Morin protested.

"Yeah, I know Doc." Kenny answered as he draped Heyes' arm over his shoulders and started to half lead and half drag him towards the exit. "You best get some coffee into ya' before you head for home. And for goodness sake don't let the warden see ya' or you'll be out of a job for sure!"

"Wher' we goin'?" Heyes asked, suddenly worried that he was headed for the dark cell and doing his best to put on the brakes. He wasn't having much luck.

"Don't worry about it Heyes." Kenny assured him. "I'm just taking you back to your cell."

"Oo, ok."

"And keep your mouth shut will ya?" Kenny instructed him. "You're damn lucky Carson's gone home for the evening or this would be the last time you'd be helping Morin out in the infirmary."

"Ahh, no. It's ok."

"No, it's not okay." Kenny contradicted him. "I catch you drunk again…." Kenny left it at that and just shook his head with an exasperated sigh.

Morin was an alright guy and a pretty decent doctor, at least compared to what prisons usually end up with so Kenny tried to cut him some slack, but this was pushing it. If he wanted to get drunk on his own time, well that was his business. But when he decides to include his trustee in on the imbibing that could get everybody into trouble!

Fortunately for everyone involved most of the guards and other inmates were in the cafeteria sitting down to supper, so the trip to Heyes' cell went pretty much unhindered. Those few who did notice them took no notice and just assumed that Kenny knew what he was about. Maybe Heyes had gotten sick again. In any case, Kenny got Heyes settled down onto his cot and prepared to head for home himself, after one final errand.

"I'll bring you up some coffee Heyes." Kenny told him. "You hungry at all? I'll bring you dinner too if you want it."

"No, not hungry." Heyes mumbled.

"What a surprise." Kenny commented dryly. "I'll get you your coffee. And then you stay put Heyes, you hear me? You don't step out of this cell until morning, you get that?"

"Ya."

"GOOD!"

A which point Kenny turned on his heels and stomped out of the cell muttering obscenities to himself as he went.

Heyes didn't know how he got through that night, and when the morning buzzer sounded he thought his head was going to explode! He groaned as he rolled over onto his side and swung his legs off the cot and down to the floor. It took him a few more seconds to convince his torso to follow suite and come up into a sitting position. He moaned and held his head. He couldn't believe the headache he had, but at least it was laundry day and he could keep to himself.

He managed to convince his legs to take him down to the cafeteria and over a bowl of lumpy oatmeal and warm coffee he sorta, kinda got himself back to the land of the living. That was the last time he was going to join Dr. Morin for a simple drink! Holy Cow! Whatever that stuff was made of it sure packed one hell of a whollop!

After picking his way through breakfast, he joined the herd heading back out to the work area and then branched off and headed back up the stairs to the third floor to begin his shift in the laundry room. He got half way down the corridor when suddenly he noticed a pair of feet standing on the floor in front of him, blocking his way. He slowly pulled his aching eyes up the legs of a guard's uniform, passed the belt buckle, could even kinda count the buttons on the shirt, noticed a half-smile playing about the lips and then was looking into the light gray eyes of Kenny Reece.

"Convict." Reece said. "Follow me." And he turned and walked in the opposite direction of the laundry room.

Heyes groaned. Oh no. He really was in for it now, but seeing no way out of the situation; he turned and followed the guard to wherever it was that Kenny had decided to take him.

Half an hour later, standing outside in a downpour of cold rain, Kenny had obtained a hat, a coat and a rifle. Heyes had obtained a shovel a hammer and a bag of nails. Later, upon reflection Heyes would insist that day proved to be the longest most miserable day he had ever put in working at the prison. Every piddly little job that Reece could find for the convict to do outside in the yard was handed over to him.

The steps needed clearing, the drains needed unclogging, and the wooden railings needed repairing. Lunch? What lunch? And the rain did not let up. Within 30 minutes Heyes was soaked to the skin. Before the morning was half over, despite the physical work he was shivering and his hands were numb with the cold and his head would not stop pounding. More than once, despite the ever ready rifle in Kenny's hands, Heyes had made a run for a corner and heaved up whatever he had left in his stomach. He was in absolute misery and his only consolation was that Kenny had to be out there with him.

Finally the invisible sun was nearing the end of its decline and the light out in the yard was fading. Kenny stood up from the bench under the awning where he had been positioned to watch Heyes shoveling mud off the walkways and motioned to the convict to call it a day.

"Alright Heyes." He said, not using the usual 'convict'. "That's enough, head back in."

Heyes released a huge relieved sigh and leaned against the shovel for a moment. He was doing his best to gather up what was left of his consciousness to convince his legs to move towards the door and get him up the stairs and into the prison proper.

"C'mon Convict." Kenny repeated, reverting to the norm. "Pick up your tools, let's go."

Back up in his cell, Heyes stood just inside his door, dripping pools of water onto the floor. He didn't want to sit down on his cot since he was soaked through and through and didn't want to get the blanket wet. He was already cold enough, why add to his misery for later?

Vaguely Heyes became aware of one of the other inmates approaching Kenny and handing him a clean set of prison garb and long johns. Heyes assumed that this was the inmate who had taken over his laundry duties for the day and the ex-outlaw leader snarled at him. The man wisely avoided eye contact and quickly moved away. Kenny plunked the fresh clothing down on Heyes' cot then turned back to him and stood there with his arms crossed and gazed at the exhausted convict.

"Get yourself changed into some dry cloths and then head down for supper." Kenny instructed him.

"Groan."

"And if I ever catch you drunk again, you'll be spending three days in the dark cell and all your privileges will be revoked. Do you understand me?"

"Groan."

"Good."

It is fair to say that Heyes slept like the dead that night and breakfast actually tasted pretty good. It was Saturday, but not surprisingly he opted out of his time in the yard and chose instead to spend the morning nursing some coffee and reading 'Les Miserables'. He was still tired in body and mind, but on the most part was feeling much better and promised himself that he was NEVER going to do that again!

An hour after lunch Heyes found himself in the visitor's room, pleased as punch to be yet again in the Kid's company.

"Sure is good to see ya again Kid." Heyes said for the umpteenth time with the smile refusing to leave his face. "With all the rain we've had lately I wasn't sure if you were going to make it."

"Aww, rain isn't going to stop me from coming Heyes." Curry assured him. "A blizzard, yeah—but not rain. You look a lot better than the last time I saw ya. You back to eating again?"

"Yeah, on the most part." Heyes admitted. "So you can tell Lom to stop acting like an old mother hen okay? Please!"

Curry smiled. "Yeah I'll tell him." He said. Then he turned serious again. "You sure you're doing okay Heyes? Ya look a little—I donno, sorta low-key."

Heyes looked down at the table, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah." He answered. "Me and the Doc got a little drunk the other day and then Kenny worked me into the ground out in the pouring rain—while I still had a hangover—just to let me know I had broken another rule."

"Jeez." The Kid sympathized. "I thought you said that Kenny was one of the good guards."

"He is."

"You're kidding!"

"No! If it had been Carson you'd be taking me home in a pine box instead of sitting here chatting with me."

"Awww Heyes." Kid looked ashamed of himself. Heyes furrowed his brow, wondering where that was coming from. "This isn't right; I'm the one who should be in here, not you."

Heyes sat back in his chair with a sigh. He looked around the room trying to collect his thoughts.

"I suppose, by rights both of us should be in here." He finally pointed out. "But I'm glad you're not. I need you out there to get me out of here!"

"That's just it Heyes!" Curry tersely responded. "You're the one with the brains! You'd know how to deal with those politicians! I'm totally lost."

Heyes sat quietly for a moment and studied his friend.

"You're not stupid Kid." Heyes commented, echoing David's sentiment from earlier on. "You're just used to letting me do all the thinking." Then he smiled mischievously. "Now it's your time to shine!"

Kid rolled his eyes and hardly looked convinced.

"That's what everybody keeps saying!" Curry declared, feeling a little frustrated. "David says that I'm 'intuitive'! Like that's gonna help! If I was so intuitive I would have known about that ambush and we wouldn't have walked right into it!"

"Oh are we onto that again!?" Heyes snapped back. "I thought we settled that! Jeez Kid! That was almost a year ago—let it go!" The he sighed and again sat for a moment studying his cousin. "How's your shoulder doing? Has David helped you to get it back again?"

"Yeah." Curry answered. "We're back to doing those stretches and stuff to get it working again. It aches a lot, especially when it's wet and cold like this, and it's actually been kinda sore these last couple of days, so I'll probably have David take a look at it when I get home. But other than that it is doing better."

"Good." Heyes nodded. "You back out at the Jordan's place now? You and Jesse still getting on okay?"

"Oh, yeah Jesse and I are getting along fine." Kid admitted. "I often go out to help at the ranch during the daytime, but both Jesse and David insist that I stay at David's at night. And David won't let me go out on my own after supper."

Heyes furrowed his brow again. "What do you mean 'David won't let you'?"

"The only time he lets me have my gun and boots and coat is when I'm heading out to the Jordan's or coming to see you!" Kid explained irritably. "The rest of the time he keeps them hidden so that I can't go out on my own!"

"What!?" Heyes was incredulous. "Why?!"

"I donno." Curry mumbled, breaking eye contact. "He keeps saying that I'm not 'alright' yet—whatever that means. If I'm not back at his place by a certain time, he practically sends a posse out looking for me! Thinks I'm going to sneak off at night and do something stupid."

"Why would he think that?"

"I donno." Curry mumbled again, shrugging his shoulders. "He seems to think it's alright for me to come and see you all on my lonesome, but not spend the evening in Brookswood having a few drinks. I tell ya Heyes, it's downright embarrassing."

"Why do ya put up with it then?" Heyes asked. "Why don't you just leave? It's not like you have to go back to Brookswood now, why don't you go stay with Lom for awhile?"

Kid sat quiet for a moment. "Well…it's just that…well…."

Heyes sighed. "What, Kid?"

"Well…I kinda agreed to it Heyes."

Heyes furrowed his brow again. "Why?"

"Well, you know." Kid said, feeling awkward. "I wasn't behaving normal, I know that but I just couldn't stop myself. Then Jesse threw me out and Clem started laying into me and I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what." Jed took a deep breath here and almost got angry with himself. "And I knew that if I was ever going to get you outta here, well, I had to get better—so I asked David to help me. He told me I had to agree to this and accept whatever restrictions he put on me or it was no go. And Lom and Jesse both know about it, so…." Jed shrugged. "Still, I am doing better. It's like he just doesn't trust me. It's frustrating."

"There must be more to it than that Kid." Heyes insisted. "Have you talked to him?"

"Well sure I've talked to him!" Kid shot back, then; "I donno." He looked down at the table again, struggling with what was on his mind.

Heyes sat back and waited, knowing more was coming and also knowing that Kid probably had a good idea as to why he wasn't allowed out at night, he just didn't want to admit it.

"I was talking to Jesse about it the other day while we were out riding the north pasture." Kid finally continued. "I was complaining about what a pest David was being and that he just wouldn't leave me be. Jesse commented that it was because David still felt responsible for what happened the last night in Cheyenne."

"Oh." Said Heyes. "What happened?"

"I donno!" Kid insisted. "That's what I asked Jesse and he just looked at me kinda funny and then asked me what I did remember."

"Well, what do you remember?"

Curry sighed and his expression became reflective.

"Well, that last night in town Big Mac hosted a real nice dinner party for all of us." Kid reminisced, and didn't notice Heyes looking disappointed. "Everything was really good and the girls were funny, getting their first taste of champagne and all, they got real giggly." He smiled at the memory, and then he turned serious again. "Everybody was being real supportive and everything, but I just couldn't enjoy myself very much knowing that you were stuck in here and everything—it just didn't feel right."

Heyes smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah." Curry reiterated. "I just couldn't have a good time. In fact I was pretty angry about the way the whole thing worked out. It wasn't fair."

"Hmmm." Was Heyes' only comment. Medical knowledge wasn't the only thing he was picking up from Dr. Morin.

"And I remember David being a real pest—again! He just wouldn't leave me alone." Kid started getting angry just thinking about it. "Finally I yelled at him, told him to back off of me—ya know? He just wouldn't leave me alone!"

"Hmmm." Heyes commented again. "And did he then? Leave you alone?"

"Yeah, finally!" Kid answered. "Good thing too, I was getting really angry. I felt like I was going to strangle him if he didn't back off!"

"Yeah, that can be irritating." Heyes agreed, though his expression showed doubt and he wondered if David'd had good reason for hovering. "What happened next?"

"Shortly after midnight the party started to wind down and I headed back to my hotel room." Curry continued, and then he laughed. "Man, I must have been really drunk! That champagne must really have a kick to it, ya know? Cause I don't even remember going to bed and I sure don't remember getting on the train the next morning. But I must have done, cause that's where I was when I woke up—on the train."

"Hmmm." Heyes said again. "And that's all you remember?"

"Yeah. Well, except…." Curry hesitated, looking confused.

"What?"

"On the train. I was having a real bad nightmare." Curry explained. "David woke me up, but I glanced over at Jesse and he had this really strange look on his face. Like he was mad at me or something…I donno. And after that everybody sorta started treating me different. Like I was going to explode on them or something. It was really weird and it just made me so mad."

"Oh yeah?" Heyes asked. "So is that when you had the fight with Jesse and then disappeared for a month?"

"Well, that was kinda the beginning of it." Curry admitted, looking ashamed of himself again. "I guess I was drinking too much during that time."

"Hmmm." Said Heyes again.

"Will you stop that!?" Curry growled at him. "It makes it sound like you know something I don't!"

"Oh, sorry."

"Do ya?"

"What?"

"Know something I don't!?"

"No, no!" Heyes assured him. "At least not on this topic."

Curry looked at his partner suspiciously not sure if there was an insult in there or not.

"So…" Heyes continued, shifting position in his chair and straightening up. "You don't remember anything else about that last night in Cheyenne?"

"What else is there to remember?" Curry demanded. "I went to sleep!"

"Drunk on champagne."

"Yeah."

"Hmmm."

"STOP THAT!"

"Well…" Heyes started to become a little defensive. "I'm just trying to work things out!"

"There's nothing to work out Heyes! I'm fine!"

"Alright, alright." Heyes relented. "So you're staying at David's place for now?"

"Yeah."

"Have you been able to talk to him about stuff?" Heyes asked, a little tentatively. "You know, about…the things that happened…in Kansas?"

"Yeah." Curry admitted, hesitantly. "A bit." He shifted uncomfortably. "It's not easy—talking about that stuff. But he's so relentless; he just keeps pushing and pushing. Geez Heyes! I've told him stuff you and I never even talked about. That don't seem right somehow!"

"Well, that's alright." Heyes assured his younger cousin. "He is a doctor, after all. And a friend too, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Curry agreed. "So…you're alright with that?"

"Yeah, if it helps."

Curry shrugged his shoulders. "I guess." He mumbled.

Then a flash of pain crossed through Heyes eyes and he cleared his throat, trying to find a way to put his disappointment into words without sounding preachy.

"I wish you had told me about that other stuff though." He finally commented.

"What other stuff Heyes?" Curry asked, concerned that he had missed something.

Hesitation…silence. It was Heyes' turn to shift uncomfortably. Then resolve—just spit it out!

"Well…what happened when you…when we split up."

"Oh…yeah." Then Curry looked hurt too. He knew he had disappointed his older cousin. "I'm sorry Heyes. I just…I didn't want to lay that onto you. And I was so sickened by it myself; I guess I just hoped it would go away if I didn't talk about it. And I knew how you felt about….killing 'an all. So…."

"They'd done just as bad to my family as they did to yours Kid." Heyes pointed out. "And if I hadn't blocked out the worst of what they did, I just might have joined you on that venture."

Hurting blue eyes rose up to meet hurting brown.

"I wish I could have blocked it out." Curry finally stated.

"No ya' don't Kid." Heyes assured him. "That was one of the worst moments of my life, suddenly remembering it all in that way. You don't want to go through that."

"Yeah, that's what David said." Curry admitted. "Still, it's weird. How could you have forgotten that?" Instantly Kid realized that he had cut Heyes to the core with that comment and began to back step. "OH, no Heyes! I didn't mean that as a judgment on you—just, in general; how can it be that our minds can block out something like that just as though it had never happened. That's weird!"

Heyes nodded, accepting the apology. "I donno Kid." He admitted and then smiled. "But Jenny is really making up for lost time here, I'll tell ya! I've had some really strange dreams about her." Then he turned reflective again. "I kinda envy you having David to talk to; there's nobody here who gives a damn."

"You could always write to him Heyes." Curry suggested. "Tell him about your dreams in a letter. Might help."

"Yeah." Heyes considered that. "Certainly wouldn't hurt." Then he smiled. "Enough of this doom and gloom. How are the girls?"

Curry smiled too, and brightened up. "Bridget is so excited about moving to Denver." He said. "It's still a month away and she's already packing! And now there's fighting over who is going to get her room—Beth or Jay! It's turning into quite a circus."

Heyes laughed. "I bet! Yeah, the girls are growing up." Then Heyes lost his smile and turned reflective again.

"Aww Heyes." Kid responded. "I know I was sounding doubtful before, but we are going to get you out of here. It just might take some time."

"I know Kid." Then he sighed and changed the subject back again. "How's Belle doing? I hear from the girls regularly, but just quick notes from Belle at Christmas and then for my birthday."

"She fine Heyes, she's just busy with Jay and now with Bridget getting ready to move out on her own—sort of." Kid assured him. "You are on her mind, a lot. She's always asking after you; wants to know everything we talk about after my visits here."

Heyes smiled. "Everything?"

"Well, I edit it some."

"That's good! Send her my love, will ya?"

"Yeah, of course Heyes."

Then Heyes smiled, a twinkle coming into his eye. Kid knew something was coming.

"So how are things going with Beth?" He asked.

"Aww Heyes!" Kid shrugged. "We're friends you know that. I've always liked Beth, but…that's it."

"Uh huh."

"She's been riding out with me sometimes when I go check on the stock, just to give Karma-Lou some exercise you understand."

"Uh huh."

"She sure is an excellent horsewoman." Kid continued and then smiled reflectively. "And she sure does look fetching in that riding habit."

"Hmmm."

"NO! I mean…she's really growing up! It's just; she's not a little girl anymore." Then Kid became defensive. "She's always been pretty, you know that…she's just nice to talk to….WE'RE JUST FRIENDS HEYES!"

"Fine." Heyes answered innocently. "What are you getting so defensive about?"

"Nothin'." Kid mumbled. "It's just…you're insinuatin'."

"What?"

"Nothin'.

Heyes smiled, his dimples coming through playfully.

"That's alright Kid." He said. "There's nothing wrong with you and Beth just being friends."

"Yeah."

"Give her my love."

"I will Heyes. They all miss you and with everything else going on, they're still working on the Governor."

Heyes smiled. They were going to win out yet!

Then there came a discreet cough from Pearson who had been standing quite unobtrusively behind them. Both ex-outlaws groaned together.

"Awww, no."

"What—already?"

"Jeez Heyes, I feel like we were just getting started."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes agreed. "It was good to see ya again though Kid. I guess you better go. Say 'hi' to everyone for me and try not to get too frustrated with David, he is just trying to help."

"Yeah, I know Heyes. I just wish I knew where he was going with it, that's all."

"Time will tell."

"Right." Kid stood up. "Take care of yourself partner. Try not to get into anymore trouble, alright? I'll see ya next month."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah, alright Kid. Next month."

While Pearson escorted Heyes back to his cell, the inmate was reflecting back on the conversation with his cousin. He was definitely going to be writing David a letter, and certainly not just about the dreams he'd been having of late. There was something missing in Jed's narrative concerning that last night in Cheyenne. He just couldn't have gotten that drunk by drinking champagne at a dinner party! Something else happened that Curry just wasn't admitting to, or—and Heyes knew that this was quite possible—had blocked out of his conscious memory.

David knew that there was more to come; that's why he was keeping Kid on such a short leash. It wasn't over yet and Heyes felt for his cousin, knowing what he was going to be going through once he remembered whatever it was he didn't want to remember.

Once back to his cell and left alone again, it was Heyes' intention to start the letter to David right away, but then he noticed that he had a letter waiting for him, sitting on the pillow on his cot. He sat down leaning against the wall and drawing his knees up, he then took the letter to see who it was from. All it had as a return address was two words; Topeka, Kansas. Heyes suddenly felt his blood turn cold and his heart was in his throat. His extremities went numb and with his fingers shaking he could barely tear open the letter that he couldn't believe he was holding;

_Mr. Heyes,_

_I know that it has been a long time since you heard from me and I desperately hope that this letter is not an unwelcome intrusion into your life. It truly is not my intention to add to your pain. I have watched the news of your arrest and imprisonment with growing horror and simply felt that I had to contact you to offer you some support and comfort during these dark times._

_You do have friends out there who care deeply about you, and they are working hard to get your sentence overturned. I feel you should know that every legal avenue is being explored to get you out and there are a great many people who will not rest until you are with them again. I will add my name to theirs and I intend to offer to do anything I can to get you released. We must get you out. This is not justice, it is vile revenge. _

_I often think of our moments together, but they now come with a pang of regret at how much time we wasted and how we squandered the precious gift we had. How many times have I sat in a room full of people; talking, laughing and celebrating, but feeling bereft and alone because you are not there? I then wonder if you feel the same. Perhaps, at times, it is better to feel nothing at all, but at least we have our memories. _

_Try to hold our precious spells in your mind's eye and know that I clutch desperately at those self-same straws. Perhaps, someday, our fingers can touch again and I can look into your eyes. I often think of the delicious devilment dancing in those shadows. That light will be in my eyes each night at ten o'clock. Think of me and know that I will hold you in my heart at that time. It is something we can share. _

_I know that the heart is tired, but we will do everything we can to catch you during this fall and keep you safe from harm. The future is a better place, and you know that I will do all that I can to keep your part in that safe from any harm. This is not the end of Hannibal Heyes; it is simply the end of Joshua Smith. When you get out, you can finally be the man you want to be, indeed the man you should have been. Try to think of this as a diversion on your journey, however appalling, and know that your friends will assist you towards a better destination. _

_Stay brave and try not to lose hope. There will be a future where you will be able to walk in the sunshine and feel the warmth of a soft hand slipped into yours. I promise you that the small joys will be yours again._

_With all my love,_

_Abigail_

Heyes sat and stared at the letter for a long time, and then read it again and again. He couldn't believe it. A part of him had been disappointed that he hadn't heard from her, but then the logical part would comment; well, why would she contact him? What they had been was over wasn't it? Still, what she had written strongly suggested that maybe it wasn't over, maybe, if he could just get out of here…maybe.

He crushed the sheets of paper up against his face and breathed deeply, hoping to maybe catch a hint of her scent. Could he? Just barely. Was she there? Or was it just his memory of her and wanting it so badly? He sighed deeply and put the letter down to his lap level in order to read it again—to cherish every word of it. He wanted to write her back, but he wasn't sure that she wanted to hear from him. .

Maybe, in his letter to David he could get a message to Kid, to contact her. But maybe she didn't want to hear from either one of them. But she says that she would add her name to the list of those helping—did that mean that she was going to get in contact with the Kid anyways? Had she already? But if she had, why had Kid not mentioned it? Maybe he thought Heyes didn't want to hear from Abi—too much hurt there, maybe. Maybe he should just respect the situation and leave it up to her to decide. They had agreed after all; he couldn't be a part of their lives, the way things were. And at the time he thought that it was probably for the best—being tied down, that just wasn't for him. Was it? Or was he just convincing himself of that to make accepting her decree easier? But things were different now, things were changing. She says so in her letter, doesn't she? She still loves him, doesn't she? Once he's a free man, no longer a wanted outlaw then maybe…they could all be together. Maybe.

When Curry stepped off the train in Brookswood it was actually a nice spring day; the sun was shining and though not exactly warm, it was pleasant and was giving a gentle promise of things to come. More out of habit than actually expecting anything, Jed headed over to the telegraph office, dodging around the numerous puddles and rain ruts left over from the previous days' downpour. He had to smile as he went, seeing some of the local boys playing and jumping in the water, sending splashes shooting into the air, the youngsters screaming with laughter whenever one of them got a dousing in the face.

He trotted up the steps to the door of the office, his thoughts gently touching on his own childhood memories of playing in those self same rain puddles and coming home soaking wet. Then suddenly he was brought back to the present and back stepped and then tipped his hat to a young woman coming out of the door that he had just been about to enter.

"Ma'am.'

"Mr. Curry." The young lady acknowledged him with a smile.

Most of the local people accepted him now as one of their own, at least for the time being. He had shown himself to be mild mannered and very polite after the initial episodes of drunkenness and disorderly behaviour so that now, most of them, including Sheriff Jacobs were willing to cut him some slack.

Even young Deputy Joe Morin was getting over his awkwardness in the presence of the ex-outlaw and started to think of him as just another regular fella. It helped to some degree to be receiving comments from his uncle who was the doctor at the Wyoming Territorial Prison, discussing his new trustee; Hannibal Heyes. His uncle certainly seemed to think that Heyes was an alright kind of guy even for a convict, so his partner was therefore probably okay too.

Jed smiled and allowed the lady to pass and then stepped into the office himself.

"Afternoon Clayt." Curry greeted the operator. "Anything for anybody today?"

"Oh, Mr. Curry. Yes." Clayt answered as he turned to snatch up a small envelope and hand it over to him. "A telegram here for yourself actually."

"Oh, for me?" Jed was surprised as he took the envelope. "From Sheriff Trevors or Mr. McCreedy?"

"Nope, someone new."

"Hmmm. Okay thanks. Anything else?"

"Nope."

Jed nodded his thanks and then left the office and started walking towards David's place. He ripped open the envelope and started to read the message as he carried on down the boardwalk. Then his gait slowed and ultimately came to a halt as his mouth fell open in surprise and he had to read the words again, just to be sure.

Jed; Have been in touch with HH (stop) Assuring my assistance (stop) Get in touch if needs be (stop) Abi (stop) Topeka, Kansas (stop).

Curry must have read over the short note at least ten times before he remembered to close his mouth. Then he folded up the piece of paper and put it in his pocket and made the conscious effort to start walking again. He still couldn't quite believe it; Abi getting in touch? He wondered what Heyes had thought about that! Why hadn't Heyes mentioned it? But then Curry reasoned; a letter coming all the way from Kansas in the winter time, more than likely it was delayed en route. Heyes may not have received it yet. It may have gotten lost, that certainly wasn't unheard of. Jed sighed and thought about it for a bit. Well, if Heyes didn't mention it next time Curry went to visit him, then Curry would take the chance of upsetting his partner and ask him about it. This was important after all, and worth the risk.

He walked into the house, his mind still miles away and absently removed his coat and gun belt and hung them off a chair in the kitchen where David would see them and then sat down and started to pull off his boots. Tricia came out of the living room and smiled at him.

"Jed." She greeted him. "Good timing, supper will be ready in about an hour."

Jed smiled back but didn't say too much.

"How is your friend doing?" She asked him.

"Better." Curry answered. "He's still having trouble adjusting but at least he's eating again and he's helping out in the infirmary so that's giving him something a little more challenging to do."

"Good. Helpfully he'll settle soon. Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks. Is David home?"

"Yes." Tricia answered. "He's just finished with his last patient of the day and is in his office."

"Oh." Jed hesitated. "Maybe I shouldn't bother him then."

"No, it's alright Jed." She assured him. "Go ahead."

"Yeah? Okay."

Tricia smiled again as she watched Jed pad his way in his stocking feet down the hall to the door of David's back office. When he wasn't drunk or recovering from one of his numerous nightmares, Jed Curry was actually a very polite and unassuming man. Just as with Belle before her, Tricia was finding it difficult to find the balance between Jed Curry the man and Kid Curry the infamous gunslinger. He was a hard one to figure out, but her husband considered him a friend, so Tricia was willing to hold judgment until their guest had found his footing and his true personality had a chance to shine through.

Jed knocked quietly on the door and then responded to the returned; 'Come in' that was definitely David's voice.

"Oh, hi Jed." Was the doctor's response as he looked up from the paperwork on his desk. "How is Hannibal doing?"

"Better."

"Well that's good to hear. Is he eating?"

"Yeah." Jed answered. "But he still could stand to put on a few pounds." Then he smiled. "But then he always was kinda scrawny, so…"

"I noticed." David admitted, the pot calling the kettle black. "As long as he's stopped loosing. We can't have him getting sick every winter; this one time was bad enough."

"Naw, he's doing better David." Jed assured him. "He did mention having bad dreams though, so I suggested he write to you about them. I don't know what you can suggest in a letter, but…."

"That's a good idea." David agreed. "Just the act of writing them out will help him to cope with them better. Did he say what they were usually about?"

"Yeah, his baby sister."

"Oh. Well yes, that's not surprising." David commented. "He probably still feels a certain amount of guilt over that. Not just that he left her behind, but that he then blocked it from his memory. That will take him some time to get over."

"I still think that's weird." Jed said. "That a person's mind can just block out a memory like that."

David sat back in his chair and scrutinized his friend.

"Yes." He agreed. "And the person doesn't even realize that they're doing it."

"Yeah. Like I said; weird." Jed sighed. "Anyway, my shoulder's been real sore for the last couple of days, I was just wondering if you could take a look at it."

"Oh! Yes, of course." David said as he stood up and gestured for Jed to sit down by the examination table. "Take off your shirts and we'll have a look. Is it a deep pain, from inside?"

"No." Jed answered as he began to pull off his shirt and henley. "It's just under the surface, and its burning. It feels like there's a boil or something there on my shoulder blade. I donno, maybe it has nothing to do with the injury. Maybe it's something new."

David stepped around behind Jed and took a look.

"Oh yes!" He said. "It's an abscess. This is actually good."

"It's good?" Jed repeated, not sounding too convinced of that.

"Yes." David reiterated as he quickly started gathering together some supplies. "Remember I told you that you had bone chips floating around in there, and if we were lucky they would simply work their way out on their own? Otherwise we might have to go in and dig them out."

"Oh yeah." Jed agreed. "I had forgotten about that, but now that you mention it…"

"Well this is what's happening." David explained as he dabbed some disinfectant on the red swollen area. "They're starting to work their way out. Now this might hurt a little bit."

Suddenly Jed leapt to his feet with a yelp and spun around to send an accusing glare back to his doctor.

"YOU CUT ME!"

David just stood there looking very innocent, but the small scalpel he was holding up in his right hand supported Jed's accusation.

"Yes." David admitted.

"JEEZ DAVID! YOU'RE ALWAYS HURTING ME! That's the last time I come to you for help! Dammit! Why do I trust you? I swear that's the last time David!"

"No it's not."

"Just you wait." Jed promised. "You'll see! Why would you think I'd keep coming back when you always hurt me!?"

"Because if you'd just calm down and stop blustering you'd realize that your shoulder doesn't hurt so much any more."

Jed's countenance softened and his focus turned inwards.

"Oh, yeah." He muttered. "You're right; it doesn't hurt nearly as much."

"Yes. That's because the pain was being caused by pressure building up under the skin. I just opened up the abscess so it could drain and release the pressure. The bone chips will come out with the fluids."

"Oh." Said Jed. "Oh, alright."

"Now, sit back down here so I can clean it up and put some gauze over it. It'll be a little tender for a while, but it'll heal up alright."

"Oh, okay." Jed agreed as he sat back down and let David continue on with his treatment. "A little warning next time would be nice."

"I did warn you—a little."

"Ha, yeah." Was Jed's only reply, then…"Is that it? Are the bone chips all out?"

"Oh no. It's not that easy." David informed him. "This will probably happen once or twice a year for the next few years, but gradually they should all work their way out and it'll stop. Meantime, you know what it is now, so the next time an abscess develops you'll be right in here to let me take care of it—right?"

Jed sighed resignedly. "Yeah, okay." He agreed. "How come you're always right David?"

David laughed. "You haven't spoken to Trish lately have you?"

Jed was dreaming. It started out a really nice dream; such a relief from all those nightmares he'd been having. This was pleasant. He and Beth were out riding the north pasture looking at all the new foals. It was a warm, beautiful summer's day and the grass was long and green and swaying in the gentle breeze. There were flies buzzing around them and the young foals were running and playing together, bucking and flapping their tails and flinging their heads about, squealing with the enjoyment of the bright day.

Jed and Beth stopped their horses under a wide-spread tree down by the creek, and dismounting they took out their lunches from the saddles bags. Beth spread a blanket out over the soft grass while Jed unsaddled the two horses and allowed them to roam loose so they could graze. When he returned to the blanket Beth had laid out sandwiches and fruit and they settled in to their respite, talking and laughing over the antics of the playful foals and enjoying one another's company.

Jed couldn't take his eyes off of her; she was so beautiful—and young and lively and sparkling with feminine sexuality. He wanted her—he could no longer deny it, she was all he ever thought of, all he ever dreamt of, her figure filling out the skirt of her riding habit in a way that set his heart to thumping.

She looked at him with a mischievous sparkle in her warm brown eyes and her tongue slid out and licked her lips teasingly. Jed groaned and leaning in he kissed her gently on the mouth. Her arms went around his neck, returning the kiss and then pulling him in, letting him know she was hungry for more.

He laid her back on the blanket and showing some measure of self-restrain he took her gently, softly, not wanting to hurt her in a way that might frighten her off. She responded willingly and far from being frightened, she responded as a woman would—a woman who knew the way, a woman who knew what she wanted.

Jed felt a shiver go through him; this was no maiden! She'd had a man before—many men before by the way she came after him. She was experienced, she was aggressive! Jed felt anger rise up in him. She had tricked him! She had lied to him, pretending to be virtuous! She was nothing more than a wonton saloon girl!

He pulled away from her and suddenly it wasn't Beth anymore—she could almost be Beth, with the long blonde hair and the smoking brown eyes! But this woman was older and her eyes and face were painted and her lips were red with colour. The fetching riding habit had turned into a tight corset and black stockings! She smelled of cheap perfume.

Jed became enraged! He'd been played for a fool and he wasn't going to put up with that—no woman was going to get away with tricking a man that way! He was still lying on top of her, holding her down and his left hand grasped her throat while his right turned into a fist and he began to hit her—over and over and over again! Her nose broke and started to bleed and her lip was splitting and then suddenly it was Beth again and her innocent brown eyes were filled with terror and confusion and they were pleading with him to stop!

But he couldn't stop and he kept beating her and he started yelling at the top of his lungs, roaring out his rage and his frustration and then suddenly he was scrambling, pushing himself up and gasping for air. He was surrounded by darkness and he was cold, but he was sweating and every fiber of him was shaking in terror and he continued to yell and grabbing the blanket around him, suddenly he was sitting up in his bed and pushing himself into the corner of the wall.

He could see a light approaching, just a sliver at first and then his bedroom door opened and the light shone brightly in, hurting his eyes, blinding him. But someone was there, some dark menacing shadow lurked in the doorway, towering over him. He pulled the blanket around him even tighter, he was still shaking and gasping for air—he was terrified!

"Jed! Jed! You're alright!"

Jed tried to squint through the blinding light, tried to get some definition of that cloaked and threatening figure hovering over him.

"Jed, it's me, David! It's alright, calm down. You were having another nightmare!"

He felt a hand touch him on the shoulder and he shrank away from it, still gasping to breath, his teeth chattering, his mind and body refusing to let go of the night fears and settle into reality.

Two hands were holding onto him then, grasping his shoulders and shaking him gently into the present.

"Jed, wake up. Come on!"

Gradually Jed started to calm down. His eyes were adjusting to the light from the lamp and he could make out David now, standing over him with his own blanket draped over his shoulders to keep out the early morning chill. His breathing and heart rate started to come down, but he was still shaking. He was freezing cold and his teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

"Oh God! David?" He was barely able to get the words out.

"Yeah, it's me." The relief in David's voice was evident. "You're alright. It was just another nightmare."

"Oh my God! Oh Jeez! Where the hell did that come from?"

"Bad one?"

"Oh Jeez! It was awful! That was the worst one yet!"

"You want to talk about it?"

"NO!"

"Okay. Let me light the stove and put some coffee on. You want some coffee?"

"Yeah."

David reached for the lamp to go out to the kitchen, but Jed grabbed his hand, stopping him before he could leave.

"Don't take the light! Don't leave me in the dark."

"Okay." David assured him, and he left the lamp on the side table. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

Jed nodded "Yeah."

David disappeared into the darkness and Jed could hear him feeling his way around in the kitchen, and then another light flared up and spread out, chasing away the shadows and the night fears. Jed remained hunched up on his bed, leaning against the wall with his blanket tugged snuggly around him while he tried to warm up and calm down.

It didn't take long for David to get the stove lit as he had gotten into the habit of having it all ready to go before heading off to bed each night for just such an occasion as this. Once that was done, and the coffee set to go he returned to the bedroom bringing with him a cup which he handed to Jed.

"Here, drink this. It'll help."

"What is it?"

"A couple of shots of brandy." David told him as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "Believe me you'll feel better for it."

"I thought you didn't want me drinkin'."

David smiled. "Well this is medicinal, so it's alright."

"Ohh." Echoed out from the cup as Jed held it up to his mouth and downed it in one go.

"Feeling a little better now?"

"Yeah. You're right, it's helping."

"Good." David stretched out his long legs and yawned. Then he smiled sheepishly at the look that Jed gave him. "Sorry."

"Don't let me keep you up, David."

David ran his hands through his tussled hair and scratched his scalp and then yawned again before he could stop himself. "No, it's alright. I don't mind."

"Ya' sure?" Jed asked, feeling a little testy. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Jed, its fine." David insisted. "I'm still just waking up that's all."

"Well, okay. As long as you're sure."

"Hmmm. You feel up to talking about it now?"

"No."

"It'll help."

"DAVID!"

David smiled. "Yeah, okay. I'll stop pushing. Did you get in to see Sheriff Trevors on your way to the prison?"

"Yeah." Curry answered, more relaxed now that David wasn't going to keep pushing him about the nightmare. "There's not too much happening there right now. He's tried to get in to see Governor Warren but he just keeps getting blocked out now, so he's going to leave it alone for a while." Curry sighed, running his hands through his curls and rubbing his eyes. Then it was his turn to yawn. "I got a telegram today from an old friend of ours. I was surprised to hear from her actually, cause she and Heyes were…well…close, and well…it's complicated."

"Yup." David commented. "It always is."

"Yeah." Curry agreed. "Anyway, she's quite a resourceful lady and she's offered to help anyway she can." Kid sighed. "Maybe come at it from a different direction might get some results. Like you said; a straight line rather than running circles."

"It's worth a try." David responded again, just trying to encourage Jed to keep talking.

"Beth has been busy making up flyers to send around to places they didn't get to the first time and then once Bridget gets settled in Denver, apparently she and Steven have some plans as well."

"That sounds promising."

"I'll have to get in touch with Steven soon and find out what he has in mind." Jed commented. "Here I've been assuring Heyes that we're going to get him out of there and I've hardly done anything to that end."

"You've had a lot on your plate lately Jed." David reminded him. "Get yourself better first and then you can go full force into this campaign along with your friends."

"I am better." Jed commented, almost in a huff.

"Then why are you still having nightmares?" David pointed out.

Jed rubbed his eyes again and groaned. "Ohh, I don't know. I just wish they'd stop. I don't know where this last one came from—it was brutal."

"New one was it?" David asked. "Never had it before?"

"No, never." Jed sighed. "And I never want it again."

"Hmmm. Coffee's ready." David stood up. "I'll bring it in here; you just stay there and keep warm."

David went out to the kitchen and poured the two cups of coffee and then headed straight back into the bedroom to find his friend staring off into space, his expression taut and anxious. The Doctor sat down and scrutinized the man sitting across from him.

"Jed?" He said quietly. Jed jumped and was instantly back in the present. "Here's your coffee."

"Ah, thanks." He took it and instantly downed half the cup in one gulp.

David cringed a bit, knowing that it must have burned, but Jed appeared to have not noticed.

"You alright?" David asked.

"Yeah."

"What were you thinking about just then?"

Jed turned sad eyes towards him, a worried, almost frightened expression floating across his features.

"It's just…that dream." He answered quietly, almost in a whisper. "I don't understand where it came from. It was….it was so…brutal."

"Was it about Hannibal again?"

"No, no. Those ones are bad too, but at least I understand where they're coming from. But this one…" Jed shook his head, again running his hands through his hair. "This one came out of nowhere. Beth was in it—at first." He admitted. Then he creased his forehead, confused. "Then it wasn't Beth—then it was again."

"Hmmm." David took a sip of coffee. "When it wasn't Beth, who was it?"

"I don't know." Jed breathed. He was feeling fear rising up in him again and he couldn't understand why. "It was a saloon girl. She looked like Beth, but it wasn't her."

David felt a shiver go through him. He took another sip of coffee to try and calm his own nerves. He knew he had to tread carefully here, gently; this was dangerous ground.

"What was she doing?"

This question got met with silence. Jed broke eye contact and just stared off into space again. He locked up. David back stepped.

"When the dream started, you were with Beth?"

"Yeah."

"Was it pleasant?"

Jed took another sip of coffee then looked at David again and nodded.

"Yeah, it was nice." He murmured. "We went riding together, like we often do—you know." David nodded. "I was thinking how nice it was to be having a good dream rather than those awful nightmares. I was actually thinking that while dreaming—isn't that weird?"

"Yeah."

Jed sighed. "We stopped under a tree to have a lunch and it was sunny and warm, a real nice day. I felt good. Beth was…beautiful."

"Beth is beautiful." David agreed. "She was happy? You were having a good time?"

"Yeah." Jed whispered. "Then we…ah, we started to make love." He looked a little embarrassed here, but then his expression changed to one of anxiety and confusion. "That's when she changed—she wasn't Beth anymore."

"She became the saloon girl?"

"Yeah." Jed answered. "I felt betrayed. I got angry—really angry."

Silence again and Jed was looking back into his dream, his eyes darting back and forth as he watched the events unfold in his mind's eye. Then suddenly he was shaking and had broken out into another cold sweat. David was watching him intently and then he saw it; the light in Jed's eyes changing and suddenly they were filled with terror—and revulsion and David knew that what Jed was recalling was no longer the dream, but the reality of that last night in Cheyenne.

Jed's coffee cup clattered to the floor, splattering its contents in every direction and he was instantly pushing himself back, deeper and deeper into the corner of the wall.

"No!" He gasped. "No, no, no. NO! What is that?! I COULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT! NO! Please! David tell me I didn't do that!" He was gasping for air, grabbing at the blanket. Then he was crying, sobbing wildly, desperately begging for absolution. "Please tell me David! TELL ME I DIDN'T DO THAT!"

David had gotten to his feet in an instant, his own coffee cup lying forgotten on the floor. He was reaching out for his friend, trying to calm him down, trying to bring him back to reason.

"Jed, it's alright!" David was almost pleading with him. "Settle down, it's alright!"

"NO!"

Suddenly Jed lunged forward, a crazed gleam in his eye. He shoved David hard, pushing his friend away from him. David went back, falling over his own chair and landing with a crash and clatter into the floor and cracking his head against the far wall. Jed was on his feet and running! He didn't knew where he was going or why—he just knew he had to run, run , run away from that despicable reality that was himself.

"DAVID! DAVID! WAKE UP!"

Trish calling his name was the first thing the good doctor was aware of; the second thing was the throbbing pain radiating from the back of his head. He groaned and started to sit up, rubbing the lump that was developing where he had whacked himself against the wall. Tricia had him by the arm, trying to help him. Worry in her eyes, but overwhelming relief in her voice.

"David! Oh thank goodness!" She exclaimed. "What happened?"

David groaned again, rubbing his neck and then taking a look around. Everything was in a shambles but fortunately the lamp hadn't been knocked over; that at least was one good thing.

"Jed remembered that night, that's what happened." David mumbled.

"Oh dear." Tricia commented as she helped her husband to stand up and then got him sitting down again on the edge of the bed. "It doesn't appear to have gone well."

David gave a slight laugh and then groaned again. "Where is he?"

"I don't know." Trish admitted. "I heard all this crashing and yelling and came out to see if you were alright and found the front door wide open. And then I found you lying on the floor in here."

She was sitting on the bed beside David, still holding onto his arm and rubbing his back, reassuring herself that he was going to be okay. For a woman who could handle just about any crisis when it came to her husband's patients, when it came to her own husband she was just as worried and protective of his well being as any newlywed would be.

"Oh no." David moaned. "I've got to find him."

"No David! Wait!" Trish implored him, tugging him back down when he attempted to stand up. "You were unconscious! Just wait a bit. It's still dark outside anyway, just wait until it gets light. Please."

David sat for a moment, feeling his head pounding. He knew he should rest, but….

"I'm alright Tricia." He assured his wife. "Just a headache. I'll take some laudanum, just enough to take the edge off. I'll be alright."

Then he got to his feet and walked slowly down to his office to do just that while Trish sighed resignedly and began to clean up the guest room just to have something to do. By the time David had gotten himself dressed, Trish was in the kitchen hugging her own cup of coffee and looking decidedly distressed.

He smiled at her, some of the colour having returned to his face and then he gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I won't go far." He assured her. "If he stayed in town he'll be easy to find since all he's wearing are his long johns and a henley. I'll let the Sheriff's office know he's run off again and if he's not in town, well, as soon as it gets light hopefully we can track him down. He can't go far without his boots."

"Yes, alright." Tricia relented. "But if you start feeling dizzy you get back here!"

"Yes Mother."

He smiled and gave his wife another kiss and then left the house, bundling his coat around him even snugger against the early morning chill. One good thing is that dawn was not far off and once it got light everything would be a lot easier to handle.

The town was quiet as David walked along the boardwalk towards the saloon and then the Sheriff's office. The late nighters had all gone home to sleep if off and the rise and shiners weren't quite ready to rise and shine yet. Not a soul could be seen and not a dog was barking. That was disappointing. Oh well.

David knocked on the door of the Sheriff's office and then walked in; waking up the night deputy where he sat perched on a chair with his legs up on the desk.

"OH! Doc! Jeez, ah…I'm sorry." The Deputy looked a little frazzled; getting caught sleeping on duty probably wasn't a good thing.

David smiled. "Don't worry about Robbie." He assured the young man. "When does Sheriff Jacobs usually get in?"

"Oh, gee ahhh." The young man rubbed his eyes and took out his pocket watch. "Not for another hour or so. Can I help ya' Doc?"

"I just wanted to let him know that Curry's run off again."

"Oh." Came the worried response. "Does he have his gun with him?"

"No."

"OH good!" Came the relieved response. "Don't want to have to go through that again."

"He doesn't have too much else with him either." David elaborated. "Including his boots and a coat. I'm hoping he won't be hard to find."

"Oh yeah." Said Robbie. "Well, I could go get the Sheriff if you want but if Curry's not in town it'll be kinda hard to track him down before it gets light."

"Yes I know." David assured him. "Just let Jacobs know what's happened when he gets in. I'll take a walk around town and see if I can find him. If I can't I'll come back when it's light out and we'll take it from there."

"Yeah, okay Doc."

An hour and a half later, David'd had no luck finding his wayward patient. Finally he decided to go home and get some breakfast and to assure his wife that he was not only still coherent but actually feeling alright. Some more coffee and something to eat completed his recovery and he was eager to get back to the Sheriff's office and get something happening.

Approaching the office, David smiled to see three horses, his own little chestnut, Rudy, included, all tacked up and standing in wait for the little posse to get organized. David was just mounting the steps when Jacobs and Joe Morin came out and greeted him.

"Hey there Doc." Said Jacobs. "You're just in time. Figured you'd want to come along."

"Yes, definitely." David agreed.

"Okay, let's mount up. Joe here is a pretty good tracker and the ground is still quite damp from the rain we've had. I don't think he's going to be too hard to find."

The three men got on board and turned their horses towards David's house. The fact that Curry hadn't been found in town would strongly suggest that he had headed out the other way, towards the back country so that seemed like the best place to start.

"You sayin' he's not wearin' any boots?" Jacobs asked the Doctor.

"That's right." David agreed. "No boots, no coat, no hat. Just his long johns and henley.'

"Well, he's gonna be dang cold when we find him. Good thing we got some blankets with us. Don't worry Doc; he won't have gone far without boots."

"Yeah."

Not too far past David's house they sure enough spotted man size foot prints in the soft dirt along the side of the road. It looked like he was running and heading towards open country, in the general direction of the Jordan's place. It was highly doubtful a man could get that far on foot even with boots on and even though they were all well aware of Curry's past and experience, they were still hopeful of finding him quickly.

Then, about three miles out of town Joe pulled up and dismounted. He squatted down to take a closer look at the foot print that was there and then straightened up and looked at the Doc.

"There's blood here." He said. "Lots of rocks along this trail, he's probably cut up his feet pretty good."

"Boy, oh boy." Jacobs shook his head. "He was doin' real well there too Doc. What in the world set him off this time?"

"Oh well, he'd had a bad night." David explained. "Bad dreams, you know. He just got upset. He probably regrets it now. I wouldn't be surprised if we were to meet him coming back into town."

"That would certainly make things easier, wouldn't it?" Said Jacobs with a laugh.

Turns out David was close to being right. A couple of more miles down the road and the small posse spotted the fugitive sitting on a rock, hugging his knees and shivering. As they rode closer Jed looked up and sent them a rather embarrassed smile.

"About time you fellas showed up." He said. "I'm freezing."

David smiled, and dismounting he untied the blanket from behind his saddle and approached his friend.

"Morning Jed." He greeted him. "How are you?"

"Like I said; I'm freezing." Jed repeated, looking a little downtrodden. "And I can't walk—I've cut up my feet."

"Yes, I know." David told him as he draped the blanket across his shoulders. "If we help you do you think you can get up on my horse?"

Jed sent a rather despondent look over to the animal.

"I donno David. I'll try."

Joe had dismounted himself and led the doctor's horse over closer to them and then both men grabbed an arm and helped the injured man to his painful feet. Jed tried to take a step and almost went down, sucking his teeth with the pain. But Joe and David held him up and basically carried him over to the horse where Jed grabbed hold of the saddle horn and they heaved him up and into the saddle. David mounted up behind him, made sure Jed was snuggled into the blanket and then they turned back towards town.

"Oh Sheriff." David began. "Do you think Joe here could ride out to the Jordan's to let them know what's happened? I don't think Jed is going to be up to working out there for a while."

"Oh sure." Jacobs agreed. "Joe…off ya go."

"Yeah Sheriff." Joe answered. "I'll see ya back in town in a couple of hours.' And he turned his horse again and headed off at a gallop towards the Double J.

An hour later Jacobs and David had Jed settled back onto his bed and Tricia was hovering around trying to be helpful.

"Would you like some coffee Jed?"

"No thanks."

"Do you want anything to eat?"

"No thanks."

"How about you Sheriff? Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you Mrs. Gibson." He answered her. "I best be getting' back to the office for now." Then he sent a quick look over to Jed. "So young fella, think you're gonna stay put for a while now?"

"Yeah Sheriff, I'm not goin' anywhere." Then added in a mumble. "Even if I could." Then he brightened up and looked Jacobs in the eye. "I'm sorry for the trouble I cause ya' Sheriff. It won't happen again."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Glad to hear it." Jacobs commented, a little dryly. Then he tipped his hat to Tricia. "Ma'am. I best be goin' now. You and your husband have a nice day."

"Thank you Sheriff." Trish smiled back at him. "And thank you for your assistance."

"Uh huh."

The Sheriff then took his leave, and taking David's horse with him headed towards the livery stable and then back to his office to settle in with his own cup of coffee—one that he could drink in some semblance of peace and quiet. He hoped.

Shortly after the Sheriff left David showed up, back in Jed's room with a wash basin filled with warm medicated water.

"Here Jed." He said, setting it down on the floor. "Soak your feet in this for a while then I'll take a look at them and see what kind of damage you've done."

"Yeah. Ouch!"

"Yes, I know. Just ease them in gradually. It is going to hurt at first, but you can't blame me for that—this time it was all your own doing."

"Yeah, I know." Curry mumbled. "I'm sorry. I seem to recall pushing you. Did I hurt you?"

David was about to shrug it off when Tricia's voice came in from the kitchen.

"You knocked him out." She informed him.

Jed groaned.

"Aww, jeez. I'm sorry." Jed apologized, looking ashamed of himself. "This just seems to be getting worse and worse. As soon as I think I'm doing better something else comes out of the blue to knock me flat. How many more revelations am I going to have before I'm done with this?"

"Naw, I think you've run the circuit now." David assured him as he sat down on the chair again. "This is the one I was waiting for in any case."

Jed looked over at him, feeling slightly defensive.

"You knew this was gonna happen?!"

"Well—yeah." David admitted. "Jesse and I knew what had happened in Cheyenne and I knew you would remember it eventually although I didn't foresee you knocking me out and dashing down the street with no clothes on!"

Curry groaned again. "Oh, no wonder Jesse was so…" He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I couldn't figure out why he didn't trust me. I thought maybe it was because of what came out at the trial, but he seemed alright at the dinner party—but that look he gave me when we were on the train, heading back here…" Jed hung his head. "I guess I don't blame him now."

"Jesse doesn't hold that against you any more Jed." David assured him. "It was hard on him at first, but he's come to realize that there were a lot of other factors at play there and that that incident was very much out of character for you."

Jed didn't respond. He was feeling pretty low and he was wondering how he was going to be able to face his friends again, knowing what they knew about him now. David put a consolatory hand on his shoulder.

"Give it time Jed. It'll be alright." He said. "Here, let me change the water, it's getting rather bloody."

A few days later, it was a beautiful warm spring morning and Jed had hobbled his way outside to sit on the front porch and watch the world go by. He just couldn't seem to lift himself out of this slump he was in. This bout of depression wasn't as acute as the first one had been, but it still lingered and he began to wonder if he was ever going to be truly happy ever again.

He was sitting back nursing a cup of coffee with his bandaged feet resting on a pillow on a stool, and feeling downright sorry for himself when he noticed a familiar team of horses coming towards him. As the buckboard came closer he soon recognized Sam at the reins and then Belle sitting on the bench beside him.

Curry groaned inwardly, feeling a tingle of dread going through him. He didn't feel like he was ready to face any of his friends right now. David constantly assured him that he didn't have anything to worry about in that quarter, but Jed himself felt so ashamed of his actions of that night that he just couldn't imagine anyone else feeling anything different.

How could he face Belle now? He knew there was no point in trying to pretend that all was well, she could see right through any kind of a ruse he might try to put forth. Indeed, Belle could see right into his heart and soul and now, knowing what truly lurked there, how could she still have any affection for him?

She must be coming in to tell him to his face to stay away from her daughter! That must be it! That's what any wise woman would do; protect her children from the monster who had been pretending all this time to be a decent man. How could she even consider him now as being a part of her family, as being a husband to Beth? That was over!

He thought he would have been relieved with that door being slammed in his face; this way it wouldn't have to be Jed breaking Beth's heart, her own parents were going to end it all for him. He could just ride away and not be bothered with it anymore. But he didn't feel relieved about that at all—he felt hurt and disappointed. He would miss Beth; indeed he would miss the whole family. Little Jay was growing so fast—Jed had been looking forward to seeing him take his first steps, hearing him speak his first words. He sighed with regret. That was gone from him now; that much he was sure of.

The buckboard stopped right in front of David's house and Sam stepped down to help Belle disembark from the vehicle.

"Morning Mr. Curry." Sam greeted him.

Jed nodded his reply as he felt his throat tightened with shame and the anticipation of the unveiled disapproval from this woman whom he had come to love and respect as he would have his own mother. Belle smiled at him as she climbed the steps onto the porch and Jed shifted uncomfortably in his chair. What was that all about? Was she just trying to soften the blow? Why bother? Make the cut quick and clean—get it over with.

"Good morning Thaddeus." She greeted him, with a gentle smile. "How are you feeling today?"

Jed didn't answer her. He felt so ashamed and the knot in his gut tightened along with the knot in his throat. He was vaguely aware of Sam returning to the buckboard and driving away. Why didn't he just wait for Belle to say her piece and then let her leave? Why force her to stay and prolong the agony?

Belle sighed when Jed looked away from her. She was carrying a basket filled with fresh baking; he could smell it and it took him back. Back to that day almost a year ago when he and Heyes had come for a visit and had enjoyed Belle's wonderful meals and fresh-baked goods. She was deliberately torturing him!

"I'll just take these in to Tricia." Belle told him. "Perhaps she'll put on some tea for us while we visit. How does that sound?"

'Like a set-up' was Jed's first thought but again he didn't say anything and Belle just carried on into the house to greet her hostess and present her with the baking. Though he couldn't make out what they were saying, he could hear the two women talking and laughing together. What—were they laughing at him? Did they think this was funny? He hadn't thought Belle was that cruel! Well, just goes to show ya'!

After a few minutes of the two ladies visiting, Belle came back out onto the porch and pulling up one of the other chairs she sat down beside her friend and gave him a gentle touch on his hand. He felt like he wanted to pull it away from her, but he didn't. He didn't look at her either.

"Tricia's going to put some tea on for us." Belle confirmed. "She says that you haven't had any breakfast yet so she'll bring out some of the scones I brought, with some preserves. Does that sound good?"

No response. Why is she torturing him like this? Why does she persist in pretending that this is a friendly social call? Why can't she just say her piece and leave?

"Thaddeus? Won't you look at me?" She asked him, sadness in her voice. "Won't you wish me a good morning?"

Jed felt his throat and eyes start to burn and he turned even further away from her. Oh no! He wasn't going to start crying again was he? He hadn't cried this much since he was eight years old! And what good would it do anyways—what was the point!? Ah no! He felt the sobs threatening again, a tear spilled out and rolled down his cheek. No, not again! He couldn't believe how weak he was—what a baby! First in front of David, now in front of Belle! This was just getting ridiculous!

"Thaddeus. It's alright." Belle whispered to him. "My dear, sweet Thaddeus. It's alright."

And then Belle was crying too and Jed couldn't believe it! Why would she be crying for him? He turned to her then and tried to wipe away her tears; it hurt him that he was hurting her and he wanted to take her pain away. She shouldn't be crying for him—he didn't deserve it. Belle hugged him to her heart and rocked him like a child while his sobs came forth again, ran their course and then finally quieted.

Trish had come out with a tray full of tea and scones, but she quickly did an about-face and left the two friends alone for a little while longer. She could keep the lunch warm on the stove for a time yet and give Jed time to compose himself. She smiled; David had been right again in suggesting that Belle come by to speak to their patient. Her husband had known that Belle had a very special relationship with the two ex-outlaws. Jed had totally shut down and retreated within himself, refusing to speak to anyone about anything. But the doctor remembered that Hannibal had bared his soul to Belle on the day of his arrest and David had hoped that maybe Jed would now do the same. It looked as though the strategy just might be paying off.

After a time Jed pulled away from Belle, and sitting back in his chair he took a deep breath and rubbing his eyes, swallowed down the last dregs of his emotions. Belle smiled.

"Feeling better now?" She asked him.

"Hmmm."

"How about some tea?"

"Yeah."

She patted his hand and then rose up and disappeared into the house only to return a few minutes later laden with the tray and goodies. Trish followed closely behind bringing in some preserves and utensils, and then she did another about-face and left them alone once more. Belle sat down and poured out the tea and then settled back into her chair again while they both enjoyed the first few sips in silence.

"I thought you hated me." Jed finally admitted. "I thought you were coming to tell me to leave and never come back."

"No Thaddeus." She assured him. "I don't hate you. Not at all."

"I did a terrible thing." He confessed.

"Yes you did." She agreed, and her words cut him to the quick. "But you're sorry for it and that's what matters now."

Jed nodded and took another sip of tea.

"How can you forgive me?" He asked her.

Belle sighed and thought about that for a moment.

"If you showed no remorse over it then I would have realized that I had been wrong about you and I would have sent you away." She explained. "But the very fact that you are suffering so from the guilt of it only serves to support my opinion of what kind of man you are." Here she leaned towards him and put a hand on his arm. "You are a good man Thaddeus; please don't lose sight of that."

"I donno Belle." He said, shaking his head. "The things I've done—not just that night in Cheyenne, but before—before I was even twenty years old I'd done some terrible things."

"You've gone through a lot in your life." Belle commiserated. "More than anyone should have to. And the worst of it was before you were even old enough to understand what was going on around you. Those events couldn't help but cause damage. I agree; you have done some terrible things, things that would have destroyed a less courageous heart. Things that could have turned you into just as cruel and vicious a man as the men who attacked your farm. But they didn't. Instead you learned compassion and you felt remorse. The fates have given you a second chance Thaddeus—don't throw it away."

"I don't know how Belle." Jed admitted. "I'm trying. I want to help Heyes, but I can't do that when I'm like this. But I don't know how to change it."

"This has been an incredibly traumatic year—for all of us!" Belle understated with a bit of a laugh. "You've been through a lot of changes and a lot of growth." Jed snorted at that. "No, you'll see." Belle insisted. "Right now you're still suffering the growing pains but you're going to come out of all this a better and stronger man. I have no doubt of that.

"You have been forced to look back on your life and face up to the things that you have done and you have been battered down by it all. That would be hard on anyone. But it's time to stop looking backwards now Thaddeus. Time to put away regrets and wishing that things could be changed, because they can't be. All you can do is take away with you the lessons you've learned and move onwards." Then she shook his arm until he turned and looked into her eyes. "It's time to move forward now. It's time to become the man you were meant to be, the man your mother knew you would be. The man she saw in you when she looked into her little boy's eyes."

To Be Continued


	17. Chapter 17

Onwards

Kid limped into the visiting room, his left hand clutching a cane keeping his right hand available for any trouble that might come his way. This precaution was totally on instinct now since he always had to leave his holster and gun with one of the guards when coming to visit a prisoner but some habits just refused to go away. He painfully made his way over to the table and sat down, meeting Heyes' furrowed brow and concerned look. Kid smiled sheepishly.

"I injured my feet." He explained rather bluntly.

"Yeah, David said you went for a run around the block without any boots on." Heyes informed his partner. "I thought he was joking, but….what were you trying to accomplish with that Kid?"

Curry sighed. He knew this was going to be awkward. Heyes could be just as bad as David when it came to pushing a point

"I know, it was stupid." Kid admitted. "I had a bad dream is all."

"Hmmm."

"Oh, there you go again!" Kid complained.

"What?"

"Actin' like you know more than you're lettin' on!" Kid snapped back feeling a little resentful. "I suppose David told you all about it!"

"No." Heyes assured him. "He figured that if you wanted me to know what it was all about then you would tell me yourself."

The atmosphere became leaden with an awkward expectant silence.

"Okay." Heyes finally relented with an air of injured feelings. "If you can tell David but you can't tell me—that's fine."

"No! Heyes, that's not it!" Kid insisted. "It's just….well…David already knew, he was just waitin' for me to figure it out. And it's…shameful, what I done. I even blubbered like a baby in front of Belle—jeez, that was embarrassing."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed, remembering back to his own breakdown in front of her. "She seems to have that effect on people. So Belle knows too?"

"Yeah." Kid admitted. "And Jesse, and Lom! It seems that everyone but me knew what happened that night!"

"And me."

"HEYES!"

"Well…I just…" Heyes shrugged defensively. "Why can't you tell me? We're partners aren't we?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Well?"

"Well…"

A heavy expectant silence…...

…

… Heyes sighed.

"How was your Easter?" He finally asked, deciding that it was better to change the subject than waste the whole hour waiting for Kid to tell him something he didn't want to tell him. The man could be so stubborn sometimes!

"Good!" Kid answered, relieved that they were on to something else. "Steven came up from Denver, and the Jordan's all came into town for services on Good Friday. We all got together at David and Tricia's place for lunch afterwards, so it was quite the gathering."

"Yeah, I bet."

Kid smiled. "You should have seen Jay; he was just squirming all over the place—didn't want to sit still. He's crawling everywhere now and poor Belle is at her wits end trying to keep track of him!"…..

….Everyone was sitting around the kitchen table enjoying after lunch tea and Belle's fresh baking. Jay would not sit still and was starting to exasperate his mother, which says a lot considering Belle's endless depth of patience.

"Oh Momma." Beth said. "Let me take him outside for a while, I'll play with him on the front porch."

"Ahhh, Beth, you're a dear." Belle accepted the offer and Beth came around the table, and taking her little brother in her arms headed out the front door with him screaming and complaining the whole way.

Beth must have done something right because within five minutes the screaming had ceased and had been replaced by excited little boy laughter. Everyone inside the house breathed a sigh of relief.

"What a handful!" Belle exclaimed. "The girls were easy compared to this one!"

Jesse smiled. "At least we have the girls to help out with him—well Beth anyways, since Bridget is going to be leaving us soon." Then he glanced over at Steven. "How is your office coming along, will you be open for business soon?"

Steven swallowed down a mouthful of pastry. "Oh yes! Actually I'm open for business now. I even have a few clients on the books. There is already plenty for Bridget to do once she gets settled in." And the young couple in question smiled at each other.

"Good!" Said Jesse. "Would hate to have her go all the way to Denver and not have a job waiting for her."

"Oh Papa!" Bridget sent back at him, knowing she was being teased.

Belle sat quietly, drinking her tea.

"Anymore headway with Heyes' case?" Jed asked once there was an opening.

"Yes!" Steven responded, though he looked a little confused. "I got an anonymous tip from someone that Governor Warren is in to some dirty business dealings and that I should start doing some digging into certain companies out this way. But…" He continued. "I'm not quite sure what to make of it all. If the tip isn't legitimate there could be accusations of slander for one thing and at the least, a big waste of my time. Still, I'll put out some feelers and see where it goes."

Jed had sat up a bit straighter in his chair, suddenly very interested in this information.

"Do you know where the tip came from?" He asked, though he thought he already had a good idea.

"No, not really." Steven admitted, rather regretfully. "Certainly not from anywhere around here—maybe back east. But how would anyone back east know what the Governor of Wyoming was doing?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Jed commented. "Especially if this tip is coming from who I think it's coming from."

"Who do you think it's coming from?"

"Well, let's just say it might be from a friend from way back." Jed sort of divulged. "A very resourceful friend from way back."…..

….."You think it was Abi?" Heyes asked.

"That's what I'm thinkin' Heyes." Curry admitted. "I take it you heard from her?"

"Yeah." Heyes sighed. "She wrote me a letter about a month ago. She said she was going to try and help."

"Uh huh." Kid agreed. "She sent me a telegram around the same time sayin' much the same thing. If she's been able to dig up some dirt on Warren, well I don't think she's beyond a little bit of blackmail."

Then he kind of cringed and sent a quick glance over to the guard by the door. Murrey was standing there so quietly that it was easy to forget the man was there. Heyes just shrugged and shook his head, suggesting that Kid shouldn't worry too much about it. As far as Heyes was concerned, the lower end guards weren't all that bright anyways, and that Murrey probably didn't even know who Warren was.

"Yeah, okay." Kid said. "Anyway, that's all there is on that for now, so Steven is looking into it."

Heyes nodded. "I got a letter from Clementine last week saying that Bridget got moved in right after Easter." He smiled. "Said she was a little homesick the first few nights, but settled in after that and they're getting along just fine."

"Yeah, Jesse took her into Denver on that Monday following Easter and helped to get her moved in." Curry concurred with what Clem had said. "He said she was all excited to be off on this 'new adventure' and couldn't wait for him to head back home again so she could get on with being an 'independent adult'."

"Uh huh." Heyes smiled. "How did Belle take it?"

Kid kinda shrugged. "Well…according to Beth she put on a brave face at first but as soon as the buckboard had driven out of the yard, she started cryin'. It must be hard on a mother, I suppose; watchin' her first-born leave the nest."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed contemplatively. "Never really thought about that before. It's one of those things that just…happens."

"Yeah, I suppose." Kid agreed. "How about you? Was there anything special here for Easter?"

"Naw." Heyes answered with a bit of a sneer. "Just the usual service on Sunday, the only difference was the sermon was geared more towards the significance of Easter and all that. It was kinda interesting, but…" Heyes shrugged. "Not really my cup of tea I guess."

"Yeah, I know."

"Oh, but Sister Julia came by for a visit again right after that." Heyes said, brightening up a bit. "That was nice. She brought me another book."

"Oh, which one?"

"'The Four Guardsmen' by Alexandre Dumas."

"Oh. Have you read it before?"

"Not that one, no."

"Well, that's good. Anyone else been comin' to see ya?"

"Yeah, actually." Heyes admitted, looking a little confused. "Harry came by."

"Harry?"

"Yeah."

"We know a couple of Harry's Heyes. Which one?"

"Briscoe."

"BRISCOE?!"

"Yeah."

…Heyes was sitting in the visitor's room all shackled hand and foot as usual waiting with some curiosity for whoever it was coming to visit him that day. It couldn't be Curry since he had just been there the week previous so it wasn't likely that he would be turning around and coming right back again. Hmmm, might be Lom. That would be nice, Heyes hadn't seen Lom since he had been sick—had a couple of quick letters from him, telling him to eat more, but that was about it. Who else could it be? Maybe David or Jesse? Hmmm.

Then the door opened and Heyes' jaw dropped. The small weaselly looking man in the black suit and hat stepped into the room all puffed up as though he owned the place, and then with his first look at his old 'friend' sitting there at the table, he stopped in his tracks and stared.

Heyes sighed with frustration. There it was again; that look of shock and pity that seemed to flash across everyone's face the first time they saw him as a convict. Did he really look that different? It had been bad enough getting it from the Kid and from Lom, but Harry Briscoe? Having that man feeling sorry for him was about as degrading as anything Heyes had had to deal with since landing in this backwater hellhole of an institution.

To make things worse, Harry was just no good at covering up what he was thinking. At least his other visitors had quickly hidden their shock away and then come forward to greet their friend in as normal a manner as possible, given the circumstances. But Harry just stood and gawped until Heyes finally smiled at him and broke him out of his trance.

"Hi ya' Harry." Heyes said. "What brings you callin'?"

Harry jumped and then quickly puffed himself up again and plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Oh yeah! Heyes!" He greeted the convict. "It's really good to see ya' Heyes!" And he came forward and around the table, his hand out and all prepared to give him a shake on it.

The first thing Harry saw was the fact that Heyes was shackled, and it shocked him again. He knew the lot of a convict; he had seen it before, but he had never prepared himself to see Heyes in that situation. Like so many people before him, Harry was somewhat intimidated by the outlaw, though he'd always put on a blustering act to try and cover it up. After all he was a Bannerman man! But then there was the other side of the coin; because, oddly enough at the same time as feeling intimidated he was also drawn by the man's natural charisma, like a fly drawn to fire. The outlaw was simply an undeniable force of nature.

Now, seeing Heyes like this, wearing prison garb, shaved head and shackled hand and foot, it just didn't seem right. For some reason, if he had even thought of it at all, Harry had assumed that Heyes' natural command over any given situation would have allowed him to avoid being controlled in this manner. Harry had totally expected to see Heyes as he'd always been; cocky, almost to the point of arrogance and very much in charge. It would seem that Hannibal Heyes had finally met his match in the Wyoming Territorial Prison system.

Then before Harry could process all this new information, the guard (it was Pearson this time) was in between the two men, his rifle up and blocking the Bannerman man from getting any closer to the prisoner. Apparently the fact that Harry was a law officer of sorts held very little credence with the officials at this particular institution.

"No physical contact with the prisoner!" Pearson reminded him. "Please be seated on the other side of the table and remain there."

"Oh! Oh of course." Harry blustered and he came around to sit down opposite Heyes. "A little touchy aren't they?" He whispered to the inmate.

Pearson went back to his position by the door, but he sent a bit of a scowl over towards the visitor and kept a very weary eye on him.

"Don't worry about it Harry." Heyes commented. "They're always like that. I guess they're afraid you're gonna slip me a lock pick or something. Imagine; someone actually wanting to break out of this place!"

"Oh. Oh yeah." Harry answered, looking very serious. "I never thought of that."

"Hmmm. So…what brings ya' here Harry?"

"Oh! Well I was just delivering some very important documents to our office in Cheyenne and thought 'Well! Why don't I drop in on my old friend Hannibal Heyes while I'm in the area?' So here I am."

"Oh." Heyes nodded. "Still with Bannerman's are ya'?"

"Well sure!" Harry expostulated. "They know a good agent when they see one! Yes sir! They keep me very busy."

"Uh huh. Like delivering documents."

"Important documents!"

"Right." Heyes smiled. "Important documents."

"That's why I couldn't get to your trial Heyes." Harry explained. "I didn't even get that telegram you sent me until after it was all over with. Otherwise I would have been right there! Yes sir! Why, nobody was more shocked than me when I found out what they done to you!" And here Harry sadly shook his head. "If only I could have been there."

"And done what Harry?" Heyes asked him. "Tell the court that you had been friends with Hannibal Heyes for five years and didn't turn him in? That we've helped you out with cases? That you've done us favours? What could you have told them Harry?"

"Well…I donno." Harry mumbled. "There must be something a Bannerman man could have said to help you out! I would have offered for the Kid too ya know! I would have been there for him if I'd known about it, that's for sure! And for you too Heyes, I would have been!"

"Yeah, I know Harry." Heyes conceded, acknowledging the fact that, bumbling fool that he was, Harry was being sincere in his offers of help. "There's nothing you could have said at my trial that would have helped me and you would only have gotten yourself into trouble, so…don't worry about it."

"Oh, well okay." Harry mumbled. Then he brightened a bit. "How's the Kid?"

"He's good Harry." Heyes informed him. "He's staying with friends in Colorado and they are all working at getting that pardon for me. Sooo…who knows, maybe I'll be outa here before next Christmas."

"Good Heyes! That's good." Harry responded. "Kid's in Colorado you say?"

"Yeah. Town called Brookswood." Heyes confirmed. "If you want to get in touch with him, that's the place."

"Yeah, yeah sure." Harry agreed. "I already sent a telegram to that lawyer fella, but never heard back from him, I guess he just doesn't realize how valuable I could be! So I'll send the Kid a telegram right away! Let him know to get in touch with me if there's anything I can do! Yes sir! It pays to have a Bannerman man on your side! We'll get ya' outa here Heyes! Just you hang in there—we'll get ya' out. And eat something will ya' Heyes? You're looking a little peaked."

Heyes rolled his eyes. "Yeah Harry."

"Good! You look after yourself Heyes, we're gonna get you outa here."

"Yeah Harry."

"Right! Good! Well, I better be on my way Heyes—long ways to go before the sun sets ya know!" Harry announced as he got to his feet. "A Bannerman man is always on the move! I'll be seeing ya' Heyes. You take care of yourself. And you be careful in here—a prison can be a very dangerous place, lots of dangerous people in here."

"Yeah Harry, I know."

"Right! Ahhh, I'll be seeing ya' Heyes."

"Yeah Harry. Thanks for coming by."

And then he was gone. Heyes heard Pearson snort behind him and he sighed.

"Yeah."….

…"That was weird." The Kid stated.

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "Did you ever hear from him?"

"Steven did mention hearing from him a while back." Kid admitted. "I guess we never did follow through on it though. Didn't really see the point."

"Hmmm." Heyes nodded. "I can understand that. Still, as much as I hate to admit it he has helped us out in the past. You might consider getting a hold of him. Wouldn't be a problem for ya' now, since you're not wanted anymore."

"Yeah, I know Heyes." Kid agreed. "I just don't know what he could do, but yeah, I'll think about it."

"Okay." Then Heyes smiled. "How's Beth?"

Much to Heyes' surprise Kid forgot to get defensive and he brightened up and smiled back at his cousin.

"She's good Heyes." He admitted. "She showed up at David's place a little while after Easter all eager to go for a ride….

…. "Jed, you've got company!" Tricia called to him from the kitchen.

Jed hobbled his way out from his bedroom and at a gesture from Trish carried on through to the front door. Stepping out on the front porch he was met by a very pretty picture. Beth, with her long blonde hair done up in a nice neat bun in the nap of her neck, was wearing that very fetching riding habit and sitting aboard a bright eyed and energetic Karma-Lou.

Beth smiled broadly as her friend came outside.

"C'mon Thaddeus!" She invited him. "It's a beautiful day for a ride! Let's go shake off the cobwebs!"

Jed grinned. "You rode all the way in to town just to invite me out for a ride?"

"Yeah, of course!" She stated as though that should be obvious. "Go get ready! I'll ride down to the livery and get Buck saddled up for you!"

"Well alright!" Jed agreed, still grinning. "Let's do it!"

Twenty minutes later Beth returned leading both horses and stood waiting outside the Gibson residence for Thaddeus to put in an appearance.

Jed was busy pulling on a few more layers of socks over his still bandaged feet and then very, very carefully sliding them into a larger pair of David's lace up boots hoping that would be enough to protect the injuries from any more abuse. If he didn't get off his horse to walk around then he ought to be alright, he reasoned.

While he was busy getting together his coat and holster and hat, Tricia stepped outside and came down the steps to greet their visitor.

"Good morning Beth! How is your mother?"

"She's fine Mrs. Gibson. Still kind of missing Bridget." She added with a roll of the eyes. "But other than that she's doing alright. Is Dr. Gibson at home?"

"No, he's out doing his rounds." Trish answered then went over and gave the dark chestnut mare a pat on the face. "So this is Karma-Lou is it? This is the first time I've seen her up close, but I sure have heard quite a few tales about her."

"Oh yes! Isn't she beautiful!?" Beth exclaimed, beaming with pleasure. "Papa has found the perfect stallion to breed her to and we're all so excited about it!"

"Really?" Tricia asked, surprised. "You're not going to breed her to JohnnyBoy? I would have thought that having your own stallion would save having to pay a fee to someone else."

"Normally that's true." Beth admitted. "But Papa wants to bring a whole new blood line into our breeding program so that means having to find two horses who are not already a part of it. And since Karma is such a nice mare, Papa is hoping that with the right stallion we'll get a really fine colt to be our new foundation sire. Oh hi Thaddeus! Are you ready to go?"

Tricia turned to see Jed gingerly making his way across the porch and down the steps, using the hand railing for support. His pain was evident.

"Jed, you just wait there and I'll bring Buck over to you." Tricia offered.

"Yeah, good idea." Jed mumbled though he felt silly having two women assisting him to mount up on his own horse.

Still, it did make all the difference when Tricia brought Buck alongside the steps and Jed was able to simply grab the saddle horn, step into the stirrup and swing aboard. It still hurt, but nothing like having to haul himself up from ground level.

Beth turned back to the mare, and despite the fact that Karma was quite a tall horse for such a little lady, Beth had no trouble at all getting her foot in the stirrup and swinging up into the saddle. Then with a wave to Tricia they turned the horses to the street and headed out of town at a gentle trot.

Once they got out of town and more into open countryside they let the horses have their heads and soon the two four-legged friends were racing each other across the landscape. Jed discovered very quickly that having his feet in the stirrups was not a good idea so soon slid out of them and galloped on, enjoying the view ahead of him. The view ahead of him being the backside of Beth sitting comfortably in the saddle, her hips moving in rhythm with Karma's stride and being no end of a distraction for the man riding along behind her.

Five miles later the horses began to slow down on their own accord and soon they had settled into a comfortable jog trot and Jed drew Buck up alongside Karma so he and his companion could talk together. Beth was still thrilled from the gallop, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright and smiling. A few strands of her hair had come loose from the bun and floated around her face in a rather enticing manner.

Jed smiled at her but tried to keep his natural response to her femininity under control. He knew from past experience that becoming aroused while riding a horse was not only very uncomfortable, but had the potential for outright embarrassment. He took his hat off, ran his hand through his curls and then plunked the hat down onto his lap and made sure it stayed there, just in case. Beth was oblivious.

"That was fun!" She exclaimed as Jed came up beside her. "Now that the weather is more accommodating we'll have to get out for rides like this more often!"

"Yeah, uh huh."

"Do you know when you're going to be moving back out to our ranch?" Beth asked with hope in her eyes.

"No, not really." Jed admitted. "Once my feet heal up I may head over to Porterville to do some work for my friend, Sheriff Trevors."

"Oh." Came the disappointed response.

"And I think Big Mac has some jobs for me to do as well."

"Oh that Mr. McCreedy!" Beth laughed. "He was such a funny old bear!"

"Yeah." Jed commented skeptically. "That's Uncle Mac alright; a funny old bear." Until he started to growl, then maybe not so much.

"Still, you know Papa has work for you at the ranch." She gently pushed.

"Yeah, I know Beth." Jed responded. "But I gotta find a way to make a living now, stand on my own two feet. I don't want to be relying on the charity of others—that's not right."

"It's not charity!" Beth was quick to point out. "Papa needs help, especially through the summer. Sam can't do it all! Besides…" She mumbled, almost under her breath. "I think Sam is planning on getting married later in the summer, so he may not be around much after that."

"He still needs to have a job, especially if he gets married." Jed pointed out. "I know he wants to buy that little house that the Randolph's have for sale and that's still close enough for him to continue on at your place. Besides that, Sam isn't your father's only employee. He has a number of men working up at the line cabin, so he's not short of help."

"Hmmm."

Jed smiled. Obviously Beth had hoped that Jed wouldn't think of that part of it and that she would be able to convince him that with Sam possibly leaving Jed HAD to come back out to the Double J in order to take over. That strategy got shot down pretty quickly.

"Well, let's just wait and see what happens." Jed suggested. "David thinks it's going to be awhile before I can get back to any physical work anyways. So, we'll see."

Beth brightened up instantly. "Okay!" She agreed with a smile.

Jed chuckled softly. "Besides!" He added. "We've still got to get Joshua out of prison! How are you coming with those flyers?"

"Great!" Beth announced. "Bridget took a whole bunch of them with her when she went to Denver and is going to be handing some out there again, plus Steven is going to send more out into the other territories. Wyoming, of course and Montana too I think."

"Good." Jed stated with a nod. "In the meanwhile, Lom is still pestering the Governor and Steven, I think is doing some digging where that gentleman is concerned as well. So….onwards!"

"How is Joshua?" Beth asked, concern taking over her features. "I miss him so much. I want to go visit him, but Papa won't let me."

"No, he's right Beth." Jed confirmed Jesse's decree. "Not only is that prison no place for a young lady, but I don't think Joshua would want you to see him like that."

"But I wouldn't mind. It wouldn't bother me." She insisted with a bit of a pout. "He must be so lonely and maybe I could help him to feel better and know that we all still care about him."

"He knows, Beth." Jed assured her. "Your letters mean a lot to him. You keep on writing those and you'll be helping him in more ways than you can imagine."

"Yes, I suppose." Beth conceded, but she still didn't look too happy with it.

"Tell you what." Jed offered. "Next time I see him, I'll ask if he's okay with you coming for a visit. If he says its okay, then maybe we can convince your father to let you go."

Beth perked up and smiled brightly. "Alright!"….

…."Don't you dare!" Heyes ordered his cousin. "The last thing I need is for either one of those girls to see me here like this!"

"I know Heyes!" Kid assured him. "Why do you think I made the offer? I knew it wouldn't wash, but it made Beth feel better that I would at least ask you."

"Oh. Okay." Heyes mumbled, calming down a bit. "Just—don't you ever bring them here. As much as I would like to see them, Jesse's right; this is no place for a young lady."…

…"Oh look!" Beth exclaimed. "Look! There's the perfect place for us to have a little picnic! There's a nice big tree that we can sit under, and the creek is right there. I brought us lunch you know."

"Did you." Jed commented, feeling like he'd been set up. "I donno Beth, once I get off of Buck, I may not be able to get back on again."

"Of course you'll be able to." She countered him. "I'll just lead him into the creek and you can use the bank to mount up—just like you did with the Gibson's porch steps!"

Jed was not comfortable with this situation at all—it was too much like his dream and he did not need to be reminded of that! Still, he could see no reasonable way out of it and before he knew it they were up to the tree and Beth was already dismounting. Jed gave a resigned sigh and then very slowly bringing his right leg over the cantle of the saddle, he used the pommel to hold on to while he carefully lowered himself down to the ground. He gingerly put weight onto his feet and then hobbled over to the tree and sat down with a 'humph'.

Beth pulled the lunches out of her saddlebags, and then taking a couple of long lines she had tied to the back of her saddle, she tethered the two horses and turned them out to graze. She then returned to the tree and settled in beside her friend and laid out the sandwiches and some of her mother's ever present pastries.

Jed sat back against the tree truck and closed his eyes for a moment. It was a very pleasant afternoon, the sun was shining with just a subtle spring breeze rustling through the grasses and leaves over head. He listened quietly to the water in the creek, to the birds in the tree above them and to the occasional contented snort from the horses. For the first time in a long time he actually felt relaxed. Yeah, life was pretty good right now. There was still a lot that needed to be done; indeed they were just getting started. But Jed knew he was on the mend. He'd been through hell and high water, physically and emotionally but he was seeing his way through it now, he was ready to start forging ahead.

He opened his eyes to see Beth watching him, a calm and gentle expression on her face. She smiled. He felt an almost overpowering desire to take her in his arms and kiss her—almost. He knew that he couldn't do that, it was too soon after all the turmoil they'd been through, and with all that was still yet to be done—he just couldn't go down that road yet. If ever. He didn't know if what he was feeling for Beth now was real, or simply a response to the knowledge that she wanted him. There was something very enticing and erotic knowing that a young and beautiful woman wanted you and only you but that response was lust, not love. And Jed didn't know which emotion he was feeling and until he did know he would have to keep his desire in check.

He smiled back at her and settled into eating lunch. Beth sighed in disappointment….

…. "And then what happened?"

"Nothin'" Said Kid. "We ate our lunch, got back on the horses and returned to town."

"Well that was anti-climatic." Heyes complained.

"Yeah! In more ways than one Heyes! And that's the way it's going to stay—at least for now." Kid insisted. "There's just too much going on with everything else for me to know what's right in that area. So, for now we'll just leave it be."

"Yeah." Heyes commented reflectively. "If Beth let's you."

"I'm just going to have to be strong."

"Uh huh."

Kid sent his partner 'the look' then decided it was time to change the subject.

"So, have you been behaving yourself?" Kid asked him. "You been stayin' out of trouble?"

"I don't know." Heyes answered creasing his brow and looking reflective.

"What do ya' mean; you don't know?" Kid questioned. "How could you not know?"

"I don't know." Heyes repeated. "Kind of a strange thing happened earlier this week."….

….. "Convict! Follow me."

Heyes looked up from the stack of cigars he had been packaging in a box and then brushing some excess tobacco off his hands he quickly caught up with and followed Murrey out of the working area.

Much to Heyes' surprise and confusion he was led into the small room outside the visitor's area and yet again pushed up against the wall, frisked and then shackled hand and foot. This was unusual since it was a week day and there were no visitors allowed in the prison during the week. Then it became even more of a dilemma when Murrey turned Heyes about and shuffled him back out the door they had just come in—so obviously not going to see a visitor.

But where were they going?

Murrey unlocked and opened a heavy door and then motioned Heyes through it and into the corridor beyond. Heyes shuffled through and then waited placidly while Murrey closed and relocked the door and then they carried on down the corridor, turned a corner and continued on down another corridor. Murrey stopped him again at the next locked door, opened it and motioned him through once more.

This time it was like stepping into another world. Suddenly there were hardwood floors and even carpeting and paintings on the walls! Heyes almost felt like he was in shock; it had been so long since he had seen anything but the cold and dreary innards of the prison proper that the moderate furnishings of the area he was now in seemed opulent in comparison.

Murrey took hold of Heyes' arm at this point and 'escorted' him down the hallway and through another door that wasn't locked and then into an open reception area that seemed even more luxurious than the hallway had been. A few other people passed them, going about their daily business and some sending little furtive glances over at the prisoner before carrying on with their own agenda.

Murrey led Heyes over to a smaller reception area, and up to an official looking man sitting at a desk, engrossed in paperwork. The gentleman glanced up as Murrey and Heyes approached him and then, without a word he got to his feet and went over to a large dark stained wooden door with the placard 'WARDEN MITCHELL' attached to it, and knocked. Heyes' heart did a triple somersault. What was this? He was being taken in to see the warden? This could be a good thing or this could be a bad thing and Heyes wasn't going to allow himself to think anything until he had a better idea of what was going on.

"Yes, what is it." Came the response to the knock.

The secretary opened the door and mumbled some words to his boss and then turned and indicated to the two men to enter the office.

Murrey ushered the prisoner through the door and into the spacious room. Sure enough, Warden Mitchell was sitting at his large oak desk going over some papers, but as soon as the prisoner was presented to him, he sat back in his chair and scrutinized the man standing before him.

"Thank you Guard." He said. "You may wait outside. Please close the door behind you."

"Yes sir."

And Murrey left, leaving Heyes standing alone in the center of the office floor. His heart had sunk a little bit as soon as he entered the room and saw that Lom wasn't there. If this had been about his amnesty then Lom would have been there, and if not Lom, then surely Steven. But it was just Heyes and the warden. And the warden continued to scrutinize him.

Heyes remembered the lessons from his first day at the prison. He didn't move from where he had been put. He kept his eyes down, didn't shift position and certainly didn't sigh with boredom. He stood still—quiet—waiting.

Finally Mitchell smiled. "Well it's good to see that you have learned the rules." He commented. "But I hear you're an intelligent man so I had no doubt that you would."

Heyes discerned that there was no direct question in amongst that statement so he did not respond, nor did he look up. He continued to wait.

"I understand that you have been working in the laundry room and the infirmary these past few months." Mitchell finally commented. "It is unusual for a convict who has only been here for less than a year to be trusted with those duties. I hope you appreciate the privilege."

No comment.

"Do you appreciate the privilege Convict?"

"Yes sir Warden."

"Good." Mitchell continued. "I'm also sure you appreciate the fact that privileges once given can also be taken away."

Oh, here it comes, Heyes thought to himself. There was never something for nothing, there was going to be a price to pay. Heyes waited for the axe to fall.

"As I've already noted, you are a very intelligent man, Mr. Heyes." The Warden carried on. "You're also a very cautious one. You pay attention to what is going on around you—keep tabs on what everyone is doing, guards and other inmates alike."

Heyes continued to stand quietly. He really did not like the way this audience was going.

"All I ask is that you continue to do what you have already been doing." Mitchell clarified. "The only difference is; that from now on you will be doing it for me."

Heyes remained standing quietly, his eyes down but his mind was spinning. The full reality of what Warden Mitchell was asking was not lost on him and if he agreed to it, it would be a very dangerous game.

"You may speak freely." The Warden informed the inmate.

The change in Heyes' demeanor was instantaneous. The quiet submissive convict was immediately replaced by the charismatic but totally cynical outlaw. His lip pulled up in a subtle sneer and he locked Mitchell down in a dark accusing stare. The Warden had to remind himself not to squirm and then he felt angry that a lowly convict could have that effect on him. He was the one in control here after all.

"In other words you want me to be a spy within a pack of wolves." Heyes stated bluntly.

"Oh, 'spy' is such an insidious term." Mitchell commented, having regained his composure and returning the convicts stare with its own level of intimidation. "Perhaps you should think of it as simply 'gathering information'. It's not like I'm asking you to sneak into their cells and rummage through their belongings."

At which point Mitchell sent Heyes a cold smile which held a double-edged sword. Heyes mimicked the expression and threw it right back at him.

"And if I refuse, I'll lose my privileges." Heyes stated.

"Let's just say that I could make your stay with us very uncomfortable."

Heyes snorted.

"Oh, I know." The Warden continued. "It's already uncomfortable as far as you're concerned. But believe me; what you have now will seem like a night at the Brown Palace when compared to what I can put you through."

Heyes sighed and weighed his options.

"So if I do agree to help you out then I can expect to maintain my privileges." Heyes stated. "Is that the arrangement we're talking about here?"

"Oh, I can do more than that Mr. Heyes." Mitchell assured him smoothly. "If I'm satisfied with the job you do, in a year or two I just might be willing to consider that pardon your friends are so adamant you deserve."

Heyes felt his anger rising but he clamped his jaws down tight on the scornful laughter that fought to burst forth from his lungs. The offer was absurd! Did Mitchell think he was a fool? It was just another false promise—like all the other false promises. Just another carrot dangling under his nose to lead him down the garden path. If Heyes did a good job as an informant why would Mitchell be willing to set him free and lose that valuable contact?

Mitchell sat back in his chair and folded his arms. The cynicism in the man standing before him was so heavy it dripped and the hard brown eyes boring into the official spoke volumes more that any words could have done.

"Well." Mitchell conceded. "Any way you choose to look at this Mr. Heyes, you would be wise to consider the offer. I have you under my thumb for the next twenty—no excuse me, for the next nineteen and a half years. All I need to do is add a little pressure and I can crush you like a beetle under my shoe." The Warden smiled coldly. "I'll let you think on that for a while—how's that? Guard!"

Heyes dropped his eyes and became the subservient convict again just as Murrey came back into the office and approached the desk.

"You may escort Mr. Heyes back to the work floor so that he may carry on with his duties."

"Yes sir Warden."

And Murrey took hold of Heyes' arm again and shuffled him out of the office and back to the prison proper. Heyes never would have thought it possible for the sound of those heavy doors clanging shut and locking behind him would ever bring with them a sense of relief. Even if it was short-lived.

That night Heyes lay on his cot staring up at a ceiling he couldn't see and tried to think himself out of the corner he had been backed into. Life was hard at the prison, but even at that Heyes knew he had it better than most of the inmates here. Heyes had people—friends and family on the outside who were supporting him. He had visitors almost every weekend and letters enough to fill in the gaps between books and medical journals. The quick glances of resentment from the other inmates were not lost on him and the fact that he had been given privileges that most of them could never hope to attain did not help in his popularity.

Being popular in here was never important to him, indeed he did everything he could to discourage any kind of presumption of camaraderie, but to turn informant—well, that was just asking to get his throat cut. But if he didn't then he would lose those privileges that were so invaluable to him and then some. The Warden's not so veiled threat was not lost on Hannibal Heyes.

Heyes knew exactly what would happen to him if he lost his days in the laundry room and even more so, the infirmary, if he lost his reading privileges, maybe even lost his visitor rights; he would go mad, that's what would happen! He had seen other inmates go that way; even in the short time Heyes had been there he had seen others lose their grasp on reason.

It was always the ones who had no one to turn to. No one coming to visit, no one writing letters, no one to talk to. Even though the incident involving Hicks had happened before Heyes had been incarcerated, he'd learned through the silent grape-vine what had happened, and he knew why. That convict who had turned on the guard and plunged the pencil into his throat hadn't done it out of any personal vendetta; there had been no malicious intent, no rhyme or reason. The inmate's mind had simply snapped and insanity had run amok.

Heyes felt a shiver go through him. The contacts he had with the outside world, and that one day a week with Dr. Morin, being able to speak with him one on one, like a human being. Those were the things that were holding Heyes together and now they were being threatened. What was he to do? How could he walk that fine line and keep himself both safe and sane?

He sighed, and rolling over onto his side he hugged his knees and stared into the abyss. What was he to do?...

…. "I donno Heyes, that sounds like trouble to me." Kid commented.

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "I still don't know what I'm going to do." Here he sent a quick glance back towards the guard and lowered his voice. "Just try and play both sides of the fence for now I suppose."

"Maybe I could tell Lom about this—or Steven." Kid suggested. "Steven's a lawyer; maybe he could block the Warden from doing this, or something."

"No, I don't think that's a good idea Kid." Heyes disagreed. "Mitchell's the one in control here. If anybody from outside tried to put pressure on him, he'd just back off until they were gone and then crucify me."

"Yeah, I suppose." Kid mumbled.

"Aww, don't worry about it Kid." Heyes assured his friend. "I'll think of somethin'. I always do, you know that."

"I know Heyes." Kid responded. "But this sounds like it could get dangerous. Jeez, we thought living on the run was bad but this is insane!"

"Yeah." Heyes agreed with that statement. "Don't worry; I'll watch my back."

"Hmmm."

The two men sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. For the first time since he'd started coming to visit his friend, Curry felt real fear for his partner's safety. Just as Heyes had felt frustrated at not being there for his friend during his life and death struggles, Kid felt the impotency of not being there to watch Heyes' back. It was what he was used to doing, that was one of his roles in their partnership, but now he was being prevented from performing that role just at a time when Heyes needed his protection the most.

As for Heyes, seeing the fear and frustration in the Kid's continence made him regret telling his cousin about the situation in the first place; it was just going to cause him to worry and fret over something that he couldn't do anything about anyways. Heyes would figure it out; he had every confidence in himself that he would. He had to. It was just going to take some thinking and some pacing, but he would figure it out.

"I beat up a saloon girl." Curry stated, out of the blue.

"What?" Heyes was startled out of his reverie. Had he heard that right?

Their eyes locked for a moment and then Kid looked away.

"That last night in Cheyenne." He affirmed. "I went over to the saloon after everyone else had gone to bed, I hired a girl for the night and I….abused her."

"Oh." Heyes couldn't think of anything else to say.

Curry sat silently, staring at his hands that were resting on the table in front of him. He couldn't bring himself to look into his cousin's eyes again.

"I…uummm." Kid coughed, trying to clear his throat. Deep sigh. "It was everything we have always despised…always looked down on and….I….I hurt her real bad Heyes!"

"Why?" He asked gently, quietly. He could see the anguish in his cousin's eyes; he could hear it in his voice. This was no longer a joke or a tease; this was painful.

Kid shrugged silently, still not able to look up.

"David said it was because I had been on that morphine for too long." Kid quietly explained. "That I had become….ahhh…dependant on it. Then, between what had happened to you and then me coming off that drug….well…it made me crazy." Kid slumped and looked defeated. "I donno….David explains it better….maybe you should just ask him."

"Yeah. Yeah I could." Heyes agreed. "But I'm still glad you told me." Curry gave a mild snort, but still wouldn't look up; in fact he was doing everything he could to avoid meeting his cousin's eyes. "Is she alright?" Heyes finally asked.

"I suppose." Came the weak response. "The Madam didn't lay charges in any case, so long as I didn't go back to that saloon again. I was just….I was passed out….I don't remember anything after that. Apparently David and Jesse made sure I was on the train the next morning and that's where I woke up."

"Hmmmm." Heyes nodded quietly. "So when you ran out of David's house with no boots on, that was….what?"

"That was when I remembered….what I had done." Kid explained. "I'd had a bad dream…and when I was describing it to David that was when I remembered." Kid stopped and ran a hand over his eyes and then he sighed and his jaw tightened over the pain he was feeling. "Oh God….Heyes!...It was awful…..I just….I know I hurt her bad. I broke her nose and split her lips. I left her black and blue. I know….I know I made her bleed. Oh God…."

Heyes leaned forward, trying to raise his hands, trying to bring some comfort to his friend, but he was shackled and he couldn't do it and he resented it more at that moment than he had at any other. To be denied the ability to offer the most basic of physical contacts at a time when it was so direly needed was one of the cruelest injustices of Heyes' predicament. All he could do was offer Kid his company and his support and hope that was enough.

The two friends sat in companionable silence until Curry was able to bring himself under control again. He gave another deep sigh and then finally raised his eyes to meet his cousin's gaze. The pain Heyes saw in his friend's eyes was enough to break his heart.

"Have you been able to talk to David about it?" Heyes gently asked him.

"No, not like this." Curry admitted. "And like I said, all I did with Belle was blubber like a baby."

"Well I'm glad you saved that part for her." Heyes commented. "I don't think I could have handled it."

Kid laughed a little. "Yeah, women like that kinda stuff."

"Hmmm." Heyes nodded. Then silence prevailed again while Heyes watched his friend still struggling with his inner demons. "You're still my partner, ya' know. This doesn't change anything."

Kid smiled and nodded acceptance, obviously relieved.

"Yeah, thanks Heyes." Then taking another deep breath, Kid straightened up and again sent his partner a weak smile.

Heyes smiled back.

"You alright now?"

"Yeah, I think so." Kid nodded.

"Good!" Heyes responded. "Cause I still need you to get me outta here!"

Kid smiled back, brighter this time. "Yeah!"

Then Murrey, who was still standing by the door behind Heyes, gave a quiet cough.

"Ahhh, you fellas have had an hour and a half now, so…."

"Oh." Heyes responded and sent the Kid a slightly sheepish smile. "I guess we've kinda gone over time here."

"Yeah." Kid agreed, and standing up he sent a quick glance over to the guard, almost on the edge of thanking him for the extra time, but not sure if that was etiquettely acceptable. "I guess I better go."

"Okay Kid. You sure you're okay now?"

"Yeah Heyes, I'm fine. You?"

"Yeah. Don't worry; I'll figure something out."

"Okay. Take care of yourself Heyes. I'll see ya' next month."

Kid left the visitor's room and as usual found himself in the reception area, where visitors waited until their particular prisoner was ready to receive them. He approached the counter at the far end and took back his coat, his hat and his holster. He smiled slightly as a thank you to the man who handed them back to him and then turned in preparation of leaving the prison.

Not surprisingly, his mind was on the conversation he'd just had with his cousin. He had been anxious about telling Heyes the details of his shameful behaviour, afraid that after all the other things that his partner had recently discovered about him that this episode would just be the final straw.

Now, of course after actually having told Heyes about it, a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders. That had been the last thing; the last thing that needed to be divulged, admitted to, owned up to, faced and accepted. Now it was done and Heyes knew the worst He had not turned away in revulsion and anger but had come forward with compassion and support and far from breaking their partnership he had re-affirmed it.

Kid felt a mixture of emotions as he headed down the foyer towards the lobby and ultimately the front door. Relief over his own confession was now marred with worry over Heyes' new predicament. Who would have thought that being inside a prison could be so dangerous? Surviving inside really was a complex game of strategy and covertness and Kid could only hope that Heyes' natural intelligence and deviousness would enable him to not only survive it, but come out on top.

Kid was in the middle of these silent musings when suddenly he found his progress blocked by a guard whom Curry had not met before. The Kid stopped dead in his tracks and looked up into a pair of intelligent gray eyes and he knew instinctively who this man was even before he introduced himself.

"Mr. Curry? My name is Ken Reece." The guard informed him and offered his hand.

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Reece." Curry acknowledged him and accepted the hand shake. "Heyes has mentioned you." He smiled slightly. "He told me that you're one of the good guards."

"Really?" Kenny responded, a little surprised. "That's good to know. I've had to be a bit tough with him sometimes." He smiled then himself. "Your friend can be very difficult to handle."

Curry snorted. "Good to know that prison hasn't changed him."

Kenny nodded but made no comment about that.

"Warden Mitchell has requested that you join him in his office." Kenny informed him. "He asked me to escort you there the next time you came for a visit." Then he glanced down at the cane Curry was holding. "Are you alright to walk there?"

"I think I can manage Mr. Reece." Curry assured him. "Just don't walk too fast."

Reece nodded and set off at a sedate pace towards the Warden's office.

"Any idea what this is about?" Curry asked him, though after his conversation with Heyes, he had a sinking feeling that he already knew.

"No, not really." Kenny admitted. "Perhaps it is just to introduce himself. You are here at the prison quite regularly after all."

"Yeah." Came the skeptical reply.

"In fact I was hoping to get the opportunity to do just that myself." Kenny stated. "Of course I am aware of your shared history with Mr. Heyes; that you are not only partners and friends, but also family. I was hoping I could get your contact information from you, someplace where I can get in touch with you if the need were to arise."

"I suppose." Curry agreed, though he was a bit confused. "I would have thought that information would already be on file here. The warden certainly knows how to get in touch with Lom Trevors and Lom and Governor Warren both know where I am."

"Yes, well…" Kenny was a bit hesitant. "There may come a time when I might need to get hold of you quickly but at the same time avoid official avenues—if you understand my meaning."

Curry was beginning to. He stopped and sent a quizzical look over to the guard.

"Yeah, uh huh." He commented. "I'll make sure you get it. Will I be seeing you again before I leave here today?"

"I'll wait for you and escort back to the front lobby when you're done."

Curry smiled. "Good."

Within a few minutes Curry found himself in the business section of the prison and just like Heyes before him, was amazed by the differences in the decor and atmosphere. It could have been just any other high-class office building in downtown Cheyenne—or Denver.

Kenny approached the secretary outside of the Warden's office and informed him of the arrival of Mr. Curry, as which point, said official stood up and going over to the large stained wooden door, knocked and then poked his head inside.

"Mr. Curry is here sir."

"Oh, good." Came the reply from within. "Send him in."

The official stepped back and motioned the Kid to enter the office which, after a quick glance at Kenny, he did. The room he found himself in was not quite as opulent as the Governor's office, but it still conveyed authority and a position of power and was all designed with the purpose of intimidating the uninitiated. Fortunately the more times Curry found himself in offices such as these, the less intimidated he was by them, and by the type of men who tended to occupy them.

As soon as the office door was closed Warden Mitchell came forward with a quick smile and an outstretched hand.

"Mr. Curry! How good to finally meet you." Came the official greeting. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." The Kid answered as he shook hands with this new reptile and then sank into the plush leather covered arm chair that had been made available to him.

The official door keeper re-entered the office at this point, carrying with him the inevitable tray laden with two glasses of some dark amber liquid. He placed one on the side table by the Kid's chair and the other on the desk in front of the Warden. Then he discreetly left.

"Please Mr. Curry, try the sherry." Warden Mitchell suggested. "It is most definitely top shelf and I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"Thank you, Mr. Mitchell." Curry mumbled skeptically. He would have preferred a beer if truth be known. Still, he took the glass and tried it, playing the game until he got a gist of where this was all going. He had to admit, it was different, but not bad.

"Well!" Mitchell began after taking a sip himself. "I have to admit I always expected to eventually meet you Mr. Curry. It's a pleasure to have it happen under such different circumstances from what I had imagined."

"Uh huh, likewise." Kid agreed.

Mitchell smiled. "Yes."

There was a moment of silence while Warden Mitchell accessed the man sitting across from him and Curry patiently waited, knowing he was being accessed. Curry himself felt no need to do any accessing—he already had a good idea of what he was dealing with here.

"I requested a meeting with you here today simply to introduce myself and to let you know that if you have any concerns at all about your friend's situation you may feel free to bring them to my attention at any time."

"Oh yeah?" Curry responded. "That's very good of you Warden. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"I know that you come to visit Mr. Heyes on a very regular basis." Mitchell admitted. "And that you speak together on a variety of topics. Considering that you were partners and that…"

"Ahh, are partners." Curry corrected him.

"Yes! Of course. Are partners—and that your opinion obviously matters a great deal to him."

"Yeah." Curry agreed a little suspiciously. He was getting a pretty good feel for where this was going.

"Of course he has told you of our little arrangement to assist me in keeping our prison running smoothly."

Curry was hardly surprised that the Warden was aware of the conversation between himself and Heyes, since there always was a guard present during their meetings, but he was surprised at how quickly the information had reached the top. He was also a little resentful of Mitchell's assumption that Heyes was going to agree to their 'little arrangement'.

"He mentioned it." Curry admitted somewhat dryly. "Didn't say he was going to do it though."

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Mitchell informed him. "There's not too much that goes on in this prison that I'm not aware of Mr. Curry. But still, having someone right in the midst of the action so to speak would be invaluable to me. And Mr. Heyes is the perfect candidate."

"Why?"

"Why?" Mitchell repeated.

"Yes, Warden. Why?"

"I would have thought that to you—his partner—it would be blatantly obvious."

Unbeknownst to himself, Curry had indeed grown over the last six months and instead of feeling insecure and intimidated by Mitchell's attempt at condescension he recognized it immediately as a ploy to manipulate and smiled inwardly at how ridiculous it all was.

"Is that a fact?" Curry asked innocently. "Well, since it's not blatantly obvious, perhaps you should just explain it to me—just to be sure we're both on the same page, ya' understand."

"Ahh, of course. Well." Mitchell collected his thoughts. "I have noticed that Mr. Heyes does not play into the political games of the other prisoners—or of the guards for that matter. He tends to keep himself apart, and other than his rather unlikely friendship with the prison doctor he has formed no alliances with anyone here."

Again, Curry smiled inwardly and noted to himself that obviously Mitchell was totally unaware of Heyes' regard for Kenny and that the guard himself had been very careful to not show any signs of favouritism.

"Mr. Heyes is quick-witted and constantly aware of what's going on around him." Mitchell continued, oblivious to Curry's observation. "All of which tend to make him a perfect candidate for what I need to help me stay informed as to the atmosphere inside the prison proper."

Curry nodded thoughtfully; for all intents and purposes he appeared to be considering the Warden's offer.

"And if Heyes agrees to help you out with this?"

"I'm well aware of your endeavors to arrange a pardon for your friend." Mitchell commented with a touch of grease. "I hold the power to grant that pardon in the tip of my feathered quill. As I have already told Mr. Heyes, if he agrees, well after a couple of years I just might see fit to consider that."

"Why?" Asked the Kid.

Mitchell sighed. "Again with the 'why?' Mr. Curry? Why is my offer so difficult for you to understand?"

"Because it don't make no sense!" Curry shot back at him. "You finally get yourself a reliable informant and then you're going to turn him loose? I find it kinda' hard to put much faith in that Mr. Mitchell!"

"You doubt my word Mr. Curry?!" Mitchell asked with some indignity.

"I have lost count as to how many government officials and upstanding business men have given us their word only to turn their backs and walk away when it came time to pay up!" Curry expostulated. "Considering the odds, I think I have every right to doubt your word! And I think it's safe to say that Heyes isn't putting too much credence in it either!"

"I strongly suggest that you endeavor to change his mind!" Mitchell shot back, his hackles rising. "I assure you Mr. Curry; it would be in your partner's best interests if you co-operate with me in convincing him to accept the offer."

Curry sat back in the chair and forced himself to come down off his anger. He was tempted to challenge the Warden on this, but realized that doing so would be pointless. Heyes was right about one thing; Mitchell was in charge here and he could make Heyes' life a misery if he chose to do so.

"What if I try and he refuses?" Curry asked quietly, now that his temper was under control again.

"I think you already know the answer to that Mr. Curry, or you wouldn't be relenting so easily here." Mitchell observed. "Might I suggest that you put this to him in such a way that he does not refuse."

The two men sat and stared at one another for a moment, neither one willing to relax their stance.

"You both have until your next visit Mr. Curry." Mitchell granted. "Then I'll expect an answer."

"Right." Curry pushed himself to his feet, knowing that the discussion had come to an end. "Good day Mr. Mitchell."

"Mr. Curry." The Warden did not stand to see his guest out.

Hobbling back down towards the lobby with Kenny Reece leading the way, Curry was deep in thought. This was going to take some handling, but again he didn't have a clue as to how to do it. Despite his hurting feet, and Heyes' protest he decided that it was time to extent his journey a little bit and head over to Porterville for a face to face discussion with his friend. Lom might not be able to get Heyes out of here, but he might have some suggestions as to how to best deal with this situation. Why did life have to get so complicated?

Then, to add to his worry, Kid couldn't quite decide if Kenny really was a friend here or if he was just playing the game in order to gain their trust. Still, Heyes had recommended him as a contact and Heyes usually could read people pretty well. Kid sighed and hummed and hawed over the pros and cons until they got outside to his waiting, rented horse and surrey and set about exchanging contact information.

That done, Curry made up his mind quickly at that point, and then shaking his hand in farewell, met the guard's eye before letting go.

"Watch his back for me will ya'?" Curry asked him bluntly.

"Already am, Mr. Curry." Reece assured him with a smile. "Already am."

"What the hell happened to you!?"

"Aww Lom! Nothin'!" Kid grumbled in exasperation. "I'm surprised David didn't write ya' a ten page letter tellin' ya' all about it!"

"No, he didn't." Lom assured this friend. "He did send a short note to let me know that you had a breakthrough and should be on the mend now. Didn't say anythin' about ya getting' hurt."

"More like a breakdown." Kid mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothin'." Kid sighed and then smiled at the Sheriff. "It's okay Lom; I just kinda overreacted to remembering some of that stuff is all. I cut up my feet some. They're healin' up—another couple of weeks and I'll be ready to dance on the 4th of July."

"Uh huh. Well, sit down Kid. Do ya want a whiskey?"

"Yeah, sure."

Lom poured them a couple of shot glasses and sat back down at his desk as well.

"So what brings ya' here?" He asked. "Have you seen Heyes?"

"Yeah Lom." Kid answered. "That's kinda what brings me here."

"Is that hardhead starvin' himself again?!"

"No no! He's fine!" Kid assured him. "It's somethin' else."

Lom sent him a quizzical look. Curry sighed, trying to think how best to describe the situation.

"It seems the Warden out there wants Heyes to kinda become an informant for him." Curry explained. "And he's made it real clear what'll happen if Heyes refuses."

"Oh brother." Lom mumbled. "That's not good. What does Heyes say?"

Curry shrugged. "Try and play both sides of the fence and watch his back. I donno Lom, I'm just lettin' ya' know in case you have any ideas."

Lom downed his whiskey and then sat and thought about it for a few moments.

"No, there's not really too much we can do." Lom speculated. "Unfortunately in a prison the Warden runs the show. How he deals with discipline is pretty much up to him so long as he doesn't stray too far away from what the federal prison system dictates. Using prisoners to spy on other prisoners is not a new ploy, nor is it considered unethical and if something were to happen to the informant, well that's the chance ya' take. It's just a convict after all."

"Geesh." Kid commented. "We were safer up in Devil's Hole!"

"Hmmm." Then Lom sent the Kid a suspicious look. "You don't mean nothin' by that do ya'? Like in; headin' back up there?"

"OH, no." Curry assured him. "No, I'm not…"

"Good." Lom expostulated. "Don't want to have ta' shoot ya'!"

Another few moments of silence, then….

"Anything new with the Governor?" Kid asked.

"No." Lom answered with a frustrated sigh. "It's like he's gone to ground. He's not taking any appointments right now and certainly not from me."

"Ya mean he's gone into hiding?"

"Yeah, that's how it seems."

"Why would he be doin' that?"

"Well, those rumours of dirty business dealings have sorta become more than just rumours." Lom explained. "Apparently President Cleveland isn't too happy about what's goin' on and there may be some sparks flyin'."

"Oh." Curry's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"What?" Lom asked, confused. "That could be in our favour. If Governor Warren gets booted out of office, maybe the next governor will be more accommodating."

"Yeah, it's just that we already had wind of something along those lines and some friends were doing some digging in hopes that we could find something to….ah…." Kid suddenly stopped, remembering who it was he was talking to.

"I hope you weren't about to say 'blackmail'." Lom growled at him. "Cause last I heard blackmailing a government official is against the law and if that's what you had a mind of doin'…."

"Oh no, Lom." Kid quickly back stepped. "Persuade…that's all I was meanin'."

"Uh huh." Kid was lying and Lom knew Kid was lying and Kid knew Lom knew he was lying. "Well, it's a moot point anyways." Lom continued. "Cause it just might be getting' ready to blow up in his face officially so there may not be anything left to 'persuade' him with."

Curry finished his whiskey and then folding his arms he sat back with a sigh.

"We gotta get him outa there Lom." He commented quietly. "He's doin' okay now, but…."

"I know Kid." Lom sympathized, remembering Heyes' quiet plea when Lom had gone to see him at the prison infirmary. "We're all tryin'. Heyes is just going to have to play it close, watch his back….and stay outa trouble!"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Ya' hungry?"

"Yeah, gettin' there."

"Well, c'mon. Let's get some supper over at the café and then you can stay the night up at my place. Head back to Colorado on the morning train."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks Lom."

Murrey got Pearson to escort Heyes back to his cell and then disappeared to tend to his own agenda. Heyes didn't think anything of it; often the guards switched off on their duties and besides that, Heyes had his mind on other things. So much so, that when Heyes was finally left to finish up the afternoon on his own, he headed out-of-doors, out to the yard so he could think, and pace and think some more.

Kid really had been going through a hard time, just like Lom had said and Heyes had sneered at it. What hard times could the Kid possibly be going through that would even come close to what Heyes himself was experiencing being initiated into the prison? Well, now he knew and now he also agreed; Kid had been going through a hard time.

Heyes just couldn't imagine how his friend had kept all that bottled up and out of sight. Three killings in his youth and now having to acknowledge committing an act that could not honestly be called anything other than rape. At least the killings were something that Heyes could understand as much as he despised the meaningless taking of life. But those ones weren't meaningless. It might not have been right; what the Kid had done, but it sure was understandable. And as he had told the Kid, if Heyes hadn't blocked out the worst of what those men had done he might very well have helped Curry on that vendetta. Of course the Kid felt guilty about them and greatly regretted allowing his anger and need for vengeance to take control of his reason in that manner. But the more Heyes had thought about it, the more he realized that it was those regrets that made Jed Curry the person that he was; the person who he wanted to be.

Then Cheyenne happened. What had transpired that night had been a shock for Heyes; he would never have thought it possible for Kid to behave in that manner. That just wasn't in the Kid's nature to behave like that—at least Heyes never would have thought so! Curry was usually so protective of women that this just didn't make sense. He could only imagine how devastating it must have been for Curry to come face to face with that memory. He had taken off at a run out the door without any boots on and had kept on running until he had cut his feet up so badly he was forced to finally stop. And Kid shrugged it off as 'just over reacting a little.' Heyes snorted.

Heyes had read something about drug dependency and addiction in the journals that Morin had loaned him but he'd just never realized how powerful an effect it could have on a person's character until now. Until his closest friend had admitted to committing a horrendous act mostly due to his dependency on a drug that had been initially administered to him to help. How quickly a friend could become an enemy without you even knowing it!

Heyes sighed with his inner musings. So typical of himself, he figured all he really had to do was read the books, learn some of the hands on techniques from Dr. Morin and he'd be ready to open up his own practice—if he wanted to. Now he was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to being a doctor than just the book learning and a little bit of practical usage. There was so much more to the human condition that just that. What his cousin was going through and having to deal with was making that very clear.

Heyes had no doubt that Kid would come through this alright; it was just going to take some time. But he was already dealing with it and moving ahead and on top of that, he had help. The same friends who were trying to help Heyes were out there already helping Curry, and Heyes wondered how they would ever be able to repay the support group that had gathered around both of them.

He would write to David and ask him more about this addiction stuff. He would ask Morin about it too the next time he was assisting him but as much as Heyes liked the prison doctor, even he could see the difference between a 'sawbones' and an 'artist'. Yes, he would definitely be writing David a letter. The more Heyes knew about what Curry was going through, and why, the better a partner Heyes could be to him and that was more important than anything else right now.

Then Heyes' thoughts went over to his own current problem. Ohh, what to do about that? Even with keeping his eyes open, keeping track of what was going on around him and watching his back, he'd never really got wind of anything covert going on. Indeed, all those little power plays swirling around the prison were anything but covert; they were blatantly obvious for anyone who cared to pay attention. Now the Warden wanted him to come up with information? About what? And if word got out that he had been singled out like that his life would have no more worth than a rabbit in a lion's den.

He couldn't do it. Suddenly it just came to him; he couldn't be a snitch. Isn't that the main reason he was here in prison in the first place? Because he couldn't betray a confidence, couldn't turn others in just to save his own skin? What the Warden was asking him to do was just another example of betraying his fellows just to protect his own situation. None of the other prisoners were his friends, none of them really mattered to him, but his own value structure was again being put to the test and now that he realized what was happening, what it was really all about, he knew the path he was going to take. Hopefully, he thought, he would be able to deal with the consequences.

The sun was going down; it would be supper time soon. Once his conundrum had been quieted Heyes started to feel that it was actually getting cold outside, despite the energized walking he had been doing around and around and around the yard. It was time to head indoors. He sighed deeply, releasing the stress that had been building up with this new dilemma, but now that he had come to his decision he felt the weight of it leave his shoulders. He smiled to himself and looked up from his inner musings to take one last survey of the yard around him. Then he felt a chill go through him and he froze.

Anger rose up inside of him, anger at himself for being so stupid! All that talk about him being so observant and aware of his surroundings and yet he had allowed himself to be distracted. Stupid! He knew he had a lot of thinking to do and it was habit to for him to get up and walk in order to help him think, but in hindsight, he realized he should have just returned to his cell this time. He should have lay down on his cot and stared at the ceiling and done his thinking that way—that would have worked just as well. Why did he have to come outside, where he would be vulnerable where he knew damn well that he couldn't think and watch his back at the same time? Stupid!

Over by the far wall was Hank Boeman and standing beside him, as though in some sort of silent conference with one another was the new inmate Carl Harris. Heyes had been relieved when the new alpha had arrived and had smiled smugly to himself, watching the two of them circling each other like two stallions, each trying to get in the first kick. But now it would appear that instead of being kept busy challenging one another for the top wolf position they had somehow come to the agreement to join forces. At least temporarily, at least until their main adversary had been taken care of.

Heyes had looked up to find both of them staring directly at him.

TO BE CONTINUED


	18. Chapter 18

The Fight

Heyes sat quietly in the visitor's room. He had no idea who was coming to see him and in a way that was kinda fun too, like being presented with a gift and you had to wait before you were allowed to open it. He smiled a little in anticipation. He doubted that it was the Kid again; he wasn't due for another couple of weeks. Wouldn't be Harry, he'd already put in his token visit and probably wouldn't have the nerve to come back. Might be Sister Julia. Hmmmm. Well, whoever it was Heyes wished they'd hurry up and get there as he was starting to get a little antsy.

Finally the outer door opened and OH, it was Lom! Heyes smiled broadly, pleased to see his friend, but then the smile suddenly dropped from his face when Lom was quickly followed into the room by Steven Granger. The lawyer? Oh no, Heyes thought, did Kid go ahead and tell them what the Warden had said? And that after Heyes had told him not to say anything! Dammit! This is what comes of letting Kid out on his own!

"Howdy Lom." Heyes greeted his friend.

"Hey Heyes."

"Mr. Granger."

"Afternoon Mr. Heyes."

"You're lookin' better than the last time I saw ya'." Lom commented. "You could still stand to put on a few more pounds though Heyes, we don't need you getting' sick again come winter."

Heyes smiled. "Yes mother."

Lom gave him a nasty look. Then he and Steven glanced over at the guard standing by the rear door.

"Guard." Steven addressed him. "Would you please give us some privacy?"

Murrey pushed himself off the wall and then with a last look at the prisoner he turned to leave.

"I'll be right outside the door if you need anything." He assured the two men.

"As long as you're not right up against it." Steven cautioned him.

Murrey sent him a bit of a smirk and then left the three men alone.

Heyes looked confused. And impressed.

"How did you do that?" He asked. "Every time I tell them to go away I get rapt with the bully club!"

Steven smiled as he and Lom sat down at the table.

"Being officials of the court does have its advantages." Steven explained. "I sent the Warden a telegram stating that we were planning to appeal your sentence and I requested some time with you in private in order to discuss that issue. Legally he is obligated to grant you time to discuss your case with your lawyer—in private. So, here we are."

"Oh." Heyes responded and then was back to a broad smile again. "And are we going to appeal my sentence?"

"We are trying to Mr. Heyes." Steven assured him with a sigh. "Unfortunately the Judge is anything but co-operative and Governor Warren is fighting other fires right now and isn't too interested in seeing us."

"Ah." Heyes accepted that, but disappointment settled over him again. "So what do I owe this visit to then? Not that I'm not happy to see ya' Lom, but it seems an awful lot of trouble to go through just to say 'hello'."

"The Kid told me about the little arrangement the Warden is trying to make with you." Lom admitted. "And I just thought it would be a good idea for you to inform your lawyer about that—just so we all know what's going on."

"Ah." Heyes commented again. "I asked Kid not to tell ya'. I guess I'm going to have ta watch what I say to him from now on."

"C'mon Heyes don't be so cynical!" Lom admonished him. "Kid only has your best interests at heart, you know that. I for one am glad he told me. We're all on the same side here; it'd help if you would remember that!"

Heyes had the good graces to look a little embarrassed. There he was mouthin' off again and allowing the frustrations he was feeling over his predicament to be dumped onto the very people who were trying to help him.

"Yeah, you're right Lom, I'm sorry." Heyes apologized. "It's just—I don't see what you can do from the outside. Like I told the Kid, you try to put pressure on Mitchell then the next thing you know you'll be gettin' a telegram informing ya' that Hannibal Heyes was shot while trying to escape."

"You're quite right Mr. Heyes." Steven put in. "It would be safer for the moment if Warden Mitchell doesn't know that we discussed this. As far as he is concerned all we talked about was your possible appeal. But I believe it is important that we all know exactly what Mitchell wants you to do and just how far you intend to go with it."

"Well, again like I told the Kid." Heyes explained. "Mitchell wants me to spy on the guards and the other prisoners and then report back to him with anything suspicious that I might become privy to. If I agree to do this then I can not only expect to retain my current privileges, but that he will then also be more open to granting me a pardon in a year or two—if he's happy with the job I do for him."

"And if you don't agree?" Steven asked.

"Then he will make my life a living hell." Heyes answered sardonically. "As though it weren't that already."

"Yes." Steven nodded. "And how optimistic do you feel about the Warden granting you your pardon?"

Heyes snorted derisively then he sent a bitter smile over to Lom.

"What is it with these government officials Lom?" He asked his friend. "Why are they always tryin' to wheel and deal and then slime their way out from under? Mitchell is no more likely to grant me a pardon than Warren was in granting me an amnesty. I'm beginning to think that politics is a bigger racket than robbin' trains!"

"They're not all dishonest Mr. Heyes." Steven assured him. "Most of them are just trying to watch their backs, like everybody else."

Heyes snorted again. He wasn't convinced.

"So what are your intentions?" Steven continued. "Have you decided what answer you are going to give the Warden in regards to his 'offer'?"

"I'm not going to do it." Heyes answered decisively. "I'm not going to turn snitch for anybody."

Steven nodded with a sigh. "I'm not surprised at that." He commented. "Considering our past history I pretty much expected that to be your answer. But might I suggest that you play along for now? Simply agree to carry on with what you have always done in watching your own back and if by chance you hear of anything you warrant is worth bringing to his attention, you will do so."

"I donno Mr. Granger." Heyes looked skeptical. "Some of the other inmates here already know that I tried to make peace with the law before. If they even get a whiff of me possibly leaning that way again I could easily wake up one morning to find that my throat had been slit. It's a dangerous game."

"Yes, I realize that." Steven agreed. "But if you refuse the warden outright then he could do just as bad, and you're right; there really is nothing we can do to stop him. Using prisoners to spy on other prisoners is not anything new and any punishment he delves out to you can easily be made to look legitimate. Do you have any friends in here at all Mr. Heyes?"

"Ahhh, yeah." Heyes considered. "One of the senior guards, Kenny Reece tends to watch my back a bit, but not so much as anybody else would notice. Then the Doc over in the infirmary; we get along alright."

Steven glanced over at Lom. "Do you know any of these men?"

"Yeah." Lom answered. "I met both of them when Heyes was sick. Reece seemed like a solid enough fellow, but that Doc struck me as a bit of a lush."

"Aww, Morin's alright." Heyes defended him. "Just don't let him offer ya' a drink, that's all."

Lom smiled, and then continued. "Kid said that Reece was willing to get in touch 'unofficially' if he felt that Heyes was in any danger or if anything suspicious happens, so it sounds like he'll be a good contact."

"Really?" Heyes asked, surprised. "I didn't know that Kid and Reece had spoken at all. Hmm, that's interesting."

"Yes." Steven agreed. "It does seem you have friends all around you Mr. Heyes. Do try to keep that in mind when things get tough. And please consider what I said about how to deal with Warden Mitchell and we'll do what we can about setting up an appeal for you. If we're lucky the Territory of Wyoming just might have a new Governor by Christmas—perhaps one who isn't quite so gun shy."

"Yeah, alright Mr. Granger. Thanks." Heyes agreed. Then he smiled. "How's Bridget?"

Steven brightened up considerably.

"She's great!" He exclaimed. "She's picking up the routine at the office very quickly and already knows more about some of my cases than I do. I think she's going to work out just fine!"

"Yeah, in more ways than one, I hear." Heyes commented with a grin.

Steven suddenly went a little shy, but he smiled with pleasure anyways.

"Yes, I certainly hope so." He admitted.

"How are things goin' otherwise Heyes?" Lom asked him, letting Steven get off the hook. "You sure you're eatin' enough?"

"Yeah Lom! Stop pestering will ya'?" Heyes showed some irritation. "And aside from the bed bugs, no heat, cold coffee, lumpy oatmeal, guards tryin' ta get me to slip up so they can beat me to a pulp and other prisoners tryin' to knife me in the back, everything's fine!"

Lom sighed. "Yeah, okay Heyes. I'm sorry."

Heyes looked contrite. He really was in 'mouthin' off' mode today.

"No, Lom, it's not you." Heyes apologized—again. "It's just this place. Some days are harder to handle than others."

"I know." Lom assured him. "We'll keep on tryin' at our end and you keep on playin' your cards close in here, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for comin'."

"Alright Mr. Heyes." Said Steven as he stood up. "I will keep in touch."

"Yeah."

Then Steven walked around to the inside door and knocked. After a couple of seconds it opened up and Murrey came into the room.

"Thank you." Steven said to him. "We're done for now."

"Fine." Murrey answered and then walked over to the prisoner. "

"C'mon Heyes lets go."

He took the inmate by the arm and pulled him to his feet. In that instant before Murrey shuffled him around and back into the prison proper, Heyes locked eyes with Lom and all the regrets and frustrations of their present predicament flashed between the two friends before the contact was broken. Then Heyes was gone, back into the miserable existence that had become his reality and Lom and Steven made their own exit, neither one of them feeling that much had been accomplished.

Once Heyes had been released from his bindings and allowed a certain measure of freedom for the rest of the afternoon he decided to return to his cell to read and think. It wasn't a bad spring day out in the yard, but he wanted to be able to let his mind wander and not have to worry so much about his back and having learned his lesson from the previous incident it was off to his cell he went.

As soon as he stepped across the threshold and into his room, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, just a feeling; but he knew there'd been a 'home invasion'. Someone had been in his cell.

He quickly did a scan of the area, not too difficult considering the size of the shoebox. Nothing was out of place and yet something was wrong. He stepped in further and looked closer. His books were all in place; his cot had not been disturbed, and the box under his table which held his letters did not appear to have been moved. Then a sudden and terrible thought came to him and he grabbed the box and quickly started to rummage through it.

He flipped through the letters, becoming more and more distressed as he got deeper into the pile and wasn't finding the one he sot. Don't panic yet; He told himself, you might have just missed it. Look again, slow down, it must be here! But a second run through still did not produce what he was searching for. A chill of dread went through him and then the heat of rising anger; Abi's letter was gone.

He turned and looked out into the aisle way, his lips tightening with indignant hostility. In an instant he was out of his cell and heading down the stairs towards the outer doors; he knew who he was looking for and he knew exactly what he was going to do once he found him. Even through his anger a little voice in the back of his mind was nagging at him, trying to make the rest of his body see reason but he was doing his best to ignore it.

_"Don't do this!"_ His little voice was saying. _"You know what you'll get for fighting! Do you want to spend two days in the dark cell? Do you? Do you want to lose your privileges, hmm? It's not important—you've read that letter so many times you know it word for word, you don't need the actual letter, you've got it stored in your head! C'mon Hannibal, don't do this!"_

But his legs and his heart weren't listening to what his mind was saying and he burst out the door and into the yard fuming and ready for a fight! He did a quick look around the enclosure and then he saw them; Boeman and Harris over by the far wall. He headed straight towards them at a fast walk, his eyes locked onto Boeman like a cougar stalking its prey. His intent was obvious.

Boeman saw him coming and with a sneering smile of anticipation he straightened up and squared off; finally he'd found something that would rattle Heyes out of his lofty indifference to the natural order of things! Carson saw the two adversaries heading for a confrontation and holding his rifle at ease, he crossed his arms and settled back to watch the two rutting bucks lock horns.

Then all of a sudden; Dammit! Where did he come from!? Kenny was in Heyes' face, blocking his bead on Boeman. The guard grabbed him by his shirt front and shook him but Heyes was so focused on his intent that he walked right through Kenny. The guard did not relent. He dug in his heels and leaning his weight into the convict he then slapped him hard across the face.

Just for an instant guard and inmate stared at each other, challenging the dictate, then something akin to reason came back into Heyes' eyes and dropping his gaze he backed off and submitted. The charged atmosphere in the yard came down a notch in disappointment, the other lesser wolves in the pack had their appetites wetted for blood and they had circled hungrily to watch the two dominates rip each other apart. Now it appeared it wasn't going to happen.

"Convict, follow me." And Kenny turned and walked towards the main door back into the prison proper.

Heyes was seething but he was becoming too conditioned to following that particular order to ignore it. None the less he still turned to look at Boeman and in that one quick glance the two men reached an understanding; a confrontation was coming—this wasn't over yet. Then Heyes turned eyes forward and followed Kenny inside much to the grumbling of the most senior guard and the other inmates in the yard.

Heyes felt his anger starting to come down, but he was trembling with the adrenaline rush that had built up and then suddenly had no where to go. He kept his eyes focused on Kenny's back but his mind was racing. Now that he was calmer he realized that he couldn't even be sure that it had been Boeman who had taken the letter; it could have been Harris, it could even have been Carson hoping to set up the confrontation. But Boeman hadn't been surprised by Heyes' challenge, indeed he seemed to be expecting it so….damn! Maybe all three of them were in on it together, wouldn't that be a treat!

Finally the two men arrived back at the scene of the crime and Kenny ushered Heyes into his cell, then the guard slid the door closed and locked it manually.

"You stay in here for the rest of the afternoon Heyes." Kenny said quietly. "Take some time to calm down."

Then he was gone, leaving Heyes standing with his back to the isle and thinking that maybe he just might take the Warden up on his offer after all—and mean it!

Finally he sighed and sat down on his cot and pushing himself into the corner of the wall he mumbled and cursed and gave himself time to start thinking reasonably. That had been a stupid thing to do—again! He seemed to be doing a lot of stupid things lately. He just wasn't thinking clearly anymore. What happened to his devious mind set? What happened to being covert? That was stupid charging down there to attack Boeman in plain sight of everyone—of course he'd get punished for that! And Abi certainly wouldn't have been impressed; he could hear her in his mind admonishing him in her obstinate Scottish accent telling him exactly what kind of an idiot he was!

Heyes groaned audibly and ran his hands over his scalp—there being no hair there for the purpose of abusing. He hadn't done himself any favours with his 'over reaction' that was for sure. Kenny was mad at him, he could tell and the last thing he wanted to do was push the patience of that particular guard. Carson could send him to the dark cell, but Kenny by withdrawing his support could send him to the insane asylum.

Then a thought suddenly came into Heyes' mind and he furrowed his brow and turned still as stone while the thought took hold and spread out, slowly becoming a plan. It was a dangerous plan as he would very likely be hurt and almost a certainty be spending time in the dark cell and at that thought, fear shivered through him and he almost backed off the whole idea. But it wouldn't go away and he knew that he just might have to accept that punishment if he was going to play games with the Warden and the other inmates and still manage to keep himself alive.

Yes, the plan took hold and the more Heyes thought about it the more he was convinced that it just might work. And I believe that it is safe to say that if it wasn't for the fact that we all know Hannibal Heyes so well, it would have been an easy thing to mistake the subtle smile that played about his lips as being one of malicious intent. But since we do all know Hannibal Heyes so well….

Two weeks later Kid showed up for his usual visit and Heyes could tell right off the bat that Curry was concerned about what Heyes was going to do about the Warden's offer. Of course the Kid knew about Lom and Steven's visit and what was discussed, but he still wasn't too sure how Heyes was going to respond. They didn't jump into it right away, but sat across from each other as usual and started off with the typical small talk.

"How ya' doin' Heyes?" Kid asked. "You stayin' outta trouble?"

"Yeah, sorta."

"Sorta? What does that mean?"

"Almost got into a fight a while back, but Kenny stopped it in time."

"Oh. Well that's good. What was it about?"

"Someone went into my cell and stole Abi's letter."

"Oh!" Kid was surprised. "Who would do that?"

Heyes shrugged. "I donno." He admitted. "I thought I knew at the time, but the more I think about it the more I don't know."

"Well, why would somebody do that?"

"One of the other inmates here keeps trying to push me into a fight." Heyes explained. "At first I thought it was him that took it, but then I thought that maybe it was…." Then he stopped, remembering that Murrey was standing behind him. "….well—someone else trying to set up a confrontation between us."

Curry let out his breath. "Geesh, you really do have to watch your back in here."

"Hmmm."

"That's a shame about Abi's letter." Kid commented. "I know it ment a lot to ya'."

"Oh, I got it back again."

"Ya' did? How?"

Heyes shrugged again. "Whoever took it put it back the next day."

"Oh brother!" Kid rolled his eyes. "Somebody's playin' games with ya' Heyes."

"Uh huh."

"Speaking of which." Kid asked quietly. "You made up your mind about that other thing yet?"

"Yeah, uh huh." Heyes answered, but then cocked his head just slightly and rolled his eyes towards the guard standing at the door behind him.

Kid didn't follow Heyes' look, didn't change his countenance at all but he still got the message; what Heyes was going to say next was for the guard's ears and was to be taken with a very big grain of salt.

"I think I'm going to take the Warden up on his offer." Heyes commented. "It sounds like a fair arrangement and I think he will stand by his word."

"Yeah." Kid agreed. "I got the impression that he was an honourable man. It certainly won't hurt ya' to be on good terms with him."

"Hmmm, that's what I thought." Then Heyes smiled, changing the subject. "I see you don't have the cane anymore. Your feet healed up?"

Kid returned the smile, the mood lightening up a bit. "Yeah, they're good Heyes. I'm back working for Jesse again—oh and I took Karma over to meet her new boyfriend and we're all hoping that magic will be made."

"Ahhh!" Heyes' smile broadened. "The diva's going to be a mother is she?"

"Well, we're hoping." Kid repeated. "Throughout the whole trip she was squealing and carrying on like she always does when she's in season so hopefully this time it will amount to something. I'll be going to get her again in a couple of weeks and if she doesn't come in to season again next month then I guess we can figure she's pregnant."

Heyes nodded. His smile dropped and he turned serious again. "That's good." He said. "I hope Jesse gets a good colt with her. He deserves some payback for all we've put him through this past year."

"That's for sure." Curry agreed. "That bothers me sometimes. I feel like I owe him, but I don't know what to do about it. Geesh! He's still helping me out; letting me stay at the ranch and giving me work. I donno Heyes, part of me feels that I should move on, start making my own way." Then he became reflective. "Sometimes I think it might be better all around if I just disappeared for a while."

"Why?" Heyes asked. "Do ya' get the feeling that they want ya' to leave?"

"No! No, not at all." Curry insisted. "But….well, Belle said that what Beth was feeling for me was just a teenage crush, if I give it some time she'll probably get over it."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, but she's not gettin' over it Heyes!" Kid pointed out, a little louder than he'd intended. "Just the opposite! It's kinda awkward."

"Well maybe it's not just a teenage crush, maybe she's really in love."

Kid sent Heyes a look suggesting that this comment wasn't even remotely funny. Heyes was doing his best to stifle a smile; it wasn't very often he saw Kid at a loss as to how to deal with a young lady's affections.

"Yeah okay." Heyes acknowledged the look. "So as you stated last month; you'll just have to be strong." He reminded the Kid. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is; she can be pretty, well….you know…..she can be really….well…."

"What?" Heyes was enjoying this; he didn't get much entertainment these days.

"Enticing! That's what!' Kid yelled at him looking embarrassed and frustrated all at the same time. "I'm worried that one of these times I might just…well…you know. And then jeez, oh man! Jesse would skin me alive! So, I'm thinkin' maybe it would be better if I just left, give her a chance to meet some young fella closer to her own age."

Heyes nodded, considering that option. "Well, why don't you then?" He asked. "You could always head over to Red Rock and work for Mac for a while."

"Yeah, I know. But another part of me likes being at the Jordan's place. I got friends there—and family, I guess, so it's hard to get motivated to leave. Besides if I head over to Texas well then I wouldn't be able to get in to see you and I wouldn't feel right about that."

"Yeah, I can understand that." Heyes sympathized. "But jeez Kid, ya' got your own life now, ya' got a chance to build something for yourself. Don't go throwin' it away on a lost cause."

"What do you mean 'a lost cause'?!" Kid threw back at him. "I know damn well that Steven is working on an appeal for you—we're gonna get you outa here! And don't you even think for one minute that I'm going to turn my back on you and walk away! That ain't gonna happen Heyes!"

"Okay, okay!" If Heyes' hands hadn't been shackled he would have thrown them up in his own defense. "I'm just sayin'; I wouldn't be mad at ya' if you decided to…."

"No!" Kid was adamant. "It ain't gonna happen Heyes!"

Heyes just nodded, silently relieved but still feeling that he had to put the offer out there anyways, just in case.

"So, you think Jesse is just keeping you on out of the goodness of his heart?" Heyes asked. "Is there really no work for ya' there?"

"No actually, that's not the case at all. Just the opposite. Sam bought a small place just outside Brookswood and he's going to be getting' married next month so he won't be around as much. He'll still be working the ranch, but of course once he has a wife, he'll be goin' home at night!" Then Kid smiled as another thought struck him. "I think his mother is going to be sellin' her place and movin' in with them—hope that don't end the marriage before it rightly gets started!"

"Mmmm." Was Heyes' only comment.

Kid sent his cousin a frustrated look. "Yeah, I know." He said. "You're not really interested in what Sam is doin'. But I'm just explaining why Jesse kinda wants me to stick around some. I thought about taken' Rick Layton up on his offer to come work his spread for a while, but Lom don't think it's a good idea for me to come back here to Wyoming permanent cause too many people here don't agree with how my trial ended. He figures I should give it a few years, let things calm down."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Heyes agreed. "Don't want ya' gettin' shot in the back."

"No." Kid agreed. "And besides that, Morrison is the Sheriff in that town close to Rick's place so…I don't really want to be running into him, if ya' know what I mean."

Heyes' eyebrows went up and he nodded emphatically, totally agreeing with that sentiment. Then he sat quietly for a moment and considered the Kid's options.

"So." He continued with a shrug. "You may as well just stay on at the Jordan's for now and stop worryin' about it. Ya' got a job there and friends like you say, plus Mr. Granger is handy now that he's in Denver and who knows, maybe that appeal will come to something and I could be outa here by next Christmas."

Kid smiled. "That'd be great Heyes!" He said with some enthusiasm. "I just don't feel right about striking out on my own, not until all this nonsense in cleared up, so yeah, I think you're right and I'll stay put for now. I'll just have to be real careful where Beth is concerned."

Heyes smiled. "I got faith in ya' Kid!" Then; "How's your shoulder comin' along? Think you can hit the side of a barn yet?"

"Yeah Heyes! I can hit the side of a barn! Not too good with the smaller stuff yet though." Then he turned serious. "Still kinda slow too—I think even Belle could out draw me now."

"What does David say about it?"

Kid shrugged, looking heartbroken. "Just to keep at it. To keep on with the stretching every day and keep practicing and it'll improve."

"Well that's good isn't it?"

"Yeah but, I asked David how long will I have to keep on with the stretching and he said probably for the rest of my life!"

"Oh!"

"Yeah." Kid reiterated. "He says that if I stop stretching out those muscles then they'll just seize up on me and get stiff and I'll never get any speed back again—and even at that he figures I'll never be as fast as I was." Kid's voice caught a little on that last bit.

"I'm sorry Kid." Heyes sympathized, knowing how hard that decree would be for the Kid to accept.

Kid nodded, then he forced himself to brighten up and he smiled. "Still, David also said that the one time he saw me draw my gun I was so drunk I could barely stand up and he couldn't believe the speed of it! So if I keep workin' at it, then maybe I'll be able to get some of that speed back again even when I'm not lubricated with alcohol!"

Heyes chuckled. "There ya' go Kid! I always knew drinkin' was good for something!"

Not surprisingly, shortly after the Kid left the prison, Heyes found himself once more standing in the middle of the Warden's office. Mitchell was again sitting back in his comfortable chair behind his desk, arms folded while he scrutinized the inmate. Heyes stood quietly, waiting for Mitchell to get done with his little attempt at an intimidation ploy so they could get down to business. Ho hum.

"So, did you and your partner have a chance to discuss our little arrangement?" Mitchell finally asked through a sleazy smile.

"Yes sir Warden." Was Heyes only response. He knew damn well that Mitchell was already aware of what he and Kid had discussed. This little game was getting old.

"So." Mitchell continued with a bit of a shrug. "Care to elaborate?"

Heyes took this as permission to speak freely.

"I thought about it Warden." Heyes reasoned. "And I figured that, well…I ain't got no friends in here anyways, and all you're askin' me to do is just carry on doin' what I've already been doin'….so I don't see no harm in it. So long as I can keep my current privileges."

Mitchell's smile was so self-satisfied it almost made Heyes give up the game and throw the Warden's offer back in his face. Fortunately he was beginning to regain his devious mind set and remained subservient and accommodating.

"Of course, of course!" Mitchell agreed. "And, like I said; I can do even more than that for you if I'm pleased with your efforts. I'll arrange for you to see me about once a month, or if something urgent comes up, well you just let Murrey know and he'll bring you here. How's that?"

"Yes sir, Warden."

"Good! Guard!"

That night Heyes lay on his cot staring at a ceiling he couldn't see and thinking about the lion's den he had allowed himself to be walked into. He was so focused on this new challenge that he almost forgot to send Abi his nighttime thoughts at 10:00 pm. Almost forgot. It was so much a part of his routine now that it came into his mind unbidden and always at around the same time every evening.

He sure did miss Abi—hadn't seen her in ages but being in this place just made him miss her even more. He had a lot of reasons to try and stay alive through all of this and one of them was the hope of being able to see her again. See her and the life they could have had together, might still have together—maybe. Heavy sigh.

He had to stop thinking about that stuff. He had to stay focused now on what was going on around him, now more than ever. He couldn't allow himself to daydream—that could be fatal. He had to stay alert now, watching for any sign at all. He couldn't make his move until Boeman did, and when he did Heyes had to be ready to react instantly and explosively. For it to work, for it to be believable he had to send himself back to the dark cell.

The next couple of weeks down on the work floor were very stressful. Heyes kept on reminding himself that he had to appear relaxed, to just carry on with his duties and ignore everyone else. The way things were now, everybody was watching everybody so nobody was making a move. Boeman wasn't that stupid (though Heyes liked to think that he was.), he knew Heyes was watching for him and he wasn't going to try anything while Heyes' guard was up.

And speaking of guards, well it wasn't just Reece keeping a closer eye on things; the other guards had been warned that there was bad blood brewing between the two inmates and not to let them get too close to one another. Heyes had to relax, and let everyone else start to relax as well or things were just not going to happen.

The first day back at the infirmary after the near-fight out in the yard, Kenny made it very clear to Heyes what he thought about the inmate's behaviour. As the guard was walking him over to begin his day helping Morin, Heyes found himself being verbally reprimanded in such a way as to remind him of his days at Valparaiso. The fact that Heyes had once been the most successful leader of that infamous outlaw band 'The Devil's Hole Gang' didn't seem to impress Kenny Reece one little bit.

"I don't know what the hell you thought you were doin' Heyes." Kenny was going on. "I thought you were supposed to be smart! It's bad enough that you were launching sneak attacks on the other inmates just cause they ticked you off—and don't even think about denying it cause I know you were doin' it!" Heyes had no intentions of denying it. There were no direct questions in this onslaught anyways so how was he suppose to be able to deny it, even if he were thinking about doing so? "You seem to be taking your privileges for granted these days, but believe me you can loose them just as quickly as you got them so I suggest you smarten up and start toeing the line a little bit! You think you're so high and mighty just because you got friends looking out for you and a lawyer coming to see you—you think that means that you can get away with starting a fight with another inmate? Believe me it doesn't! You start doing stupid things like that and you are going to end up in real trouble—then what in the hell am I suppose to tell your partner? He thinks I'm in here looking out for you! But if you are going to insist on being stupid well, then you will be on your own cause even I can't stop you from being punished for fighting! I hope you're listening to me Heyes! I hope you hear what I'm saying!"

_Oh God!_ Heyes thought, miserably. _How can I not hear! Oh thank goodness, here we are at the infirmary!_

"Here ya go Doc." Kenny announced as they walked in. "I hope he doesn't give you any trouble today!"

Then Kenny was gone, back to the work floor to carry on with his day, leaving Heyes standing in the middle of the office, looking sheepish. Morin sent him a speculative look.

"Just can't stay out of trouble can ya' Heyes?"

Heyes sighed and rolled his eyes. If this was the flak he was getting hit with for some minor indiscretion, what was going to be the fall out when he deliberately goes out of his way to create an 'incident'?

"Yeah, I know Doc." Heyes admitted, playing the game. "It was stupid."

"Hmmmm." Came the response. "Just don't let it happen again—I need you over here."

Aww jeez, now comes the guilt trip. So not only was Kenny ticked off at him, but once things really get lit up, good ole' Doc Morin was going to be pretty pissed too. Oh well. He sure hoped he wasn't going to be cutting his own throat here.

Three weeks after the Kid's last visit, things on the work floor and in the prison proper had settled back down into the usual routine. Just about everyone had forgotten about the near fight out in the yard and Heyes had begun to relax his stance. Maybe Boeman wasn't going to make a move. Maybe he was waiting for Heyes to make the first move. Well that wasn't gonna happen. Sooner or later, Boeman was going to start something and Heyes knew it, all he had to do was be ready for it.

Then, when it finally did happen, it wasn't Boeman making the move, but Harris. And the intent wasn't just to battle it out for dominance, it was to commit murder.

It was laundry day for Heyes and he was up on the third level as usual, putting in his day of washing and folding and distributing prison garb and other materials back to their respective cells. Everyone else was down on the work floor and aside from the usual noise made by the production activities the cell blocks were quiet and uninhabited.

Heyes had just dropped off his last pile of clean laundry to the linen room and was heading back to finish up the last of his duties when a sudden movement in a cell to his right caught his eye. He didn't even have time to recognize it as a threat when he suddenly felt himself being propelled over to the railing and then a hand grasping his left ankle and hoisting him up and over.

Heyes let out a yell of shock and instant terror when he saw the work floor, three levels down come spinning up towards him as he went over the railing head first. Heyes' insistence that he could move like a whip snake at the first sign of trouble fortunately was not an exaggeration. His left hand made a frantic grab for the hand rail just as his torso came over and down, quickly followed by his hips and then his legs. But his grip on the railing held and the momentum of his fall carried him around and his swing continued with his right hand grabbing hold then and carrying him on through the arch and he catapulted himself up and over the railing again, to land gracefully very close to his take off point.

All of this happened in the flash of an instant, and once he was upright again, all he got was a fleeting glance of Harris' face and a pair of eyes filled with fear and surprise at the failure of his assault. Then he was gone and running like mad towards the stairs and the lower levels. Heyes took off after him—his blood was up and he was ready for a fight.

The inmates and guards down on the work floor had all glanced up at the sound of Heyes' yell and now the whole area was in an uproar as every convict was voicing encouragement to their own favored pit bull. The guards were instantly busy, some trying to get the assembly back under control, while others were attempting to intercept the two antagonists and prevent a brawl.

Heyes didn't even hear the uproar coming from the floor beneath him, or acknowledge the orders from the guards to stand down! Any game plan that he had worked out and intended on following at this point was gone from his mind and out the window. Harris had tried to kill him and Heyes had every intentions of reciprocating.

Harris reached the first stairway and ran down them three at a time, but Heyes got there right behind him and didn't bother with the steps at all. He leaped, from a flat out run and landed squarely on Harris' back. He grabbed hold, pulling both of them over and tumbling down the last few steps and onto the landing of the second level. They both felt the air knocked out of their lungs, but they were too far gone to care. Harris twisted around and plowed the heel of his right hand into Heyes' nose. Heyes grunted, his eyes watering; he fell back against the wall, losing his grip, and then Harris was up and sent a kick towards his adversary but Heyes dodged it and grabbed hold of the foot, intent on bringing his quarry down. But Harris twisted away again and pulled free, leaving Heyes holding onto an empty shoe.

Then the chase was on again, but by that time Murrey and Pearson were on their way up the first flight of stairs, their bully clubs out and ready for action. Harris saw them coming and grabbing the hand rail, leapt over the railing and landed hard in amongst the other inmates who were more than happy to grab him and send him on his way. Heyes instantly followed suite and was given the same reception as soon as he hit ground level. The inmates were cheering them on, giving them running room and doing their best to block the guards and preventing them from interfering.

Murrey and Pearson had instantly turned on their heels and came charging back down the stairs again, their clubs swinging to clear themselves a path. By this time Davis and Reece had joined Carson on the floor, trying to restore order but the mob mentality had taken hold and it was turning into a free for all!

The alarm klaxon was screaming out its warning and the prison proper instantly went into lock down while every armed and ready officer on duty made a dash for the work floor. All fire arms were locked up to prevent an inmate from overpowering an armed guard and getting hold of the weapon, so only bully clubs were brought to bear Many of the inmates had grabbed hold of broom handles and other convenient pieces of equipment, preparing to meet the onslaught of the guards, and the riot was in full swing!

In the mean time Harris and Heyes were totally oblivious to any other battle going on aside from their own. Harris was running like mad through the work area, knocking over benches and work tables in an effort to trip Heyes up. But Heyes just leapt over them and kept coming. Harris twisted in his run and threw tools at him but Heyes just dodged any projectiles that came his way and he kept coming.

Two more strides and Heyes was on to him, grabbing the back of his shirt. Harris scrambled and got hold of a broom handle and twisting again he yelled his war cry and swung the handle around, aiming for Heyes' head. Heyes brought his left arm up just in time, blocking the blow and didn't even feel the wood breaking against his elbow. He was seeing red as he lunged at Harris and got his hands around his adversary's throat. The two men went down with a crash and Heyes started to squeeze, his lips drawn back in an animalistic snarl.

Harris suddenly found himself fighting for his life! He twisted and squirmed, punched and kicked but no matter what he tried he couldn't get his assailant off him. Then out of no where Heyes felt an arm come around his throat from behind and instantly the tables were turned and Heyes was the one fighting for air! His hold on Harris loosened and that convict pulled away from the grip and was instantly on his feet and gasping.

Heyes came to his feet as well, desperately reaching behind him, trying to get some kind of hold on whomever it was choking the life out of him. He dug his heels in and pushed backwards, sending himself and his assailant tumbling over a knocked down work table. The hold on his throat loosened and he twisted around to come face to face with Boeman.

Heyes' rage came up another notch and as both men scrambled to their feet again he sent a right handed punch straight into Boeman's face, breaking his nose but all that did was enrage his adversary even more. Boeman retaliated with a power drive of a blow to Heyes gut and then a sharp upper cut to his jaw, sending him staggering backwards right into the waiting arms of Harris.

Harris took the advantage and grabbing hold of Heyes, he held his arms back in a vice and Boeman came forward and began his assault with his fists. Heyes kicked out at him, but whatever blows he was actually able to land did nothing to slow Boeman down and he came on with his attack until Heyes tasted blood and mucus and knew he was on the edge of passing out.

Meanwhile the scuffle between the guards and other inmates was violent but short-lived. The guards were well trained in the techniques of squashing an uprising and the thin broom handles were no match for the disciplined and effective onslaught of the bully clubs.

It didn't take long for the main insurgents to be beaten into submission and then the rest of the rioters were quickly subdued and pushed and prodded and cajoled back into their cells for the duration. At the same time as the group was being handled, Carson, Reece and Pearson came at a run to the three combatants who each seemed determined to demolish the work floor in their battle for supremacy.

Each guard grabbed an inmate and pulled them apart, but all three convicts were blinded by their battle rage and fought everything and anybody who came within reach. Pearson managed to drag Harris away and as that particular prisoner bit and kicked just for the sake of fighting, Pearson cold cocked him with the club and put him onto the floor. Then with the convict only semi-conscious, Pearson began to drag and haul him over to the stairs and back to his cell. One less to worry about.

But Reece and Carson still had their hands full. Once Heyes felt himself freed from Harris he head butted Reece and then lunged at the subdued Boeman and again went for the throat. Carson, Boeman and Heyes all went down in a heap and then Boeman was lose from Carson and he and Heyes were at each other again, fighting for the upper hand!

Carson was getting trampled by the two convicts and when Reece ran in to grab Heyes, he got nailed again with a staggering blow from Boeman that had been aiming for Heyes' face, but missed. All four men were still sprawled on the floor, Kenny shaking his head from the blow and trying to get back on his knees and bring his club into play. Boeman was sandwiched in between Carson underneath him and Heyes on top and was frantic to get himself out into the clear.

He swung again at Heyes, this time hitting him square on the side of the head, knocking him over and then Boeman rolled clear of Carson and was attempting to get to his feet when Heyes grabbed him again. Boeman twisted, kicking out, but Heyes caught his leg, pulling him off balance and then made another lunge at the man and this time, getting a hold on his throat that wasn't going to break loose. Boeman was lashing out, boxing Heyes on the ears, trying to kick at him but nothing was working and he was fighting for his life!

Reece was on his feet and hitting Heyes behind his knees with the bully club, trying to bring him down, but all that happened was that Heyes took Boeman down with him. Carson and Reece both had hold of their respective inmates, trying to break Heyes' strangle hold on his adversary.

"HEYES!" Reece was yelling at him. "LET HIM GO!"

But Heyes only squeezed harder. His lids were closed to slits and his eyes had rolled back so that only white was shining through, he was in a blood lust and heard and felt nothing. Boeman was turning blue.

"GOD DAMMIT HEYES! LET HIM GO! I SWEAR I'LL BREAK YOUR FXXXING ARM! LET HIM GO!"

Finally, seeing no other way to end it, Reece stood and raising the bully club over his head he brought it down in a crushing blow to Heyes' left forearm. There was a resounding crack as the bone broke in two and Heyes' left arm loosened its hold and dropped to his side. He was still hanging on with his right, but Carson had grabbed his wrist and squeezed it until the fingers started to release and Boeman suddenly gasped in a lungful of air. He started to scramble away from his assailant but then Heyes' lids opened wide and his eyes rolled down again and the rage that was in them was feral and beyond reason. He tried to lunge forward again and re-claim his hold on Boeman's throat with his right hand, ignoring the pain coming from his left, but Reece had too strong a lock on him and he couldn't quite reach his goal.

But he wouldn't let up and he kept fighting against Reece while Carson got in between Heyes and Boeman and was trying to use his club to punch Heyes in the ribs, to block the onslaught. But it was cramped quarters and Carson couldn't get any 'umph' into it and Heyes just didn't feel it. Then Kenny, seeing no alternative again, resorted to extreme measures and brought his club down on the back of Heyes' head and finally ended the battle. Heyes sank the rest of the way to the floor and lay there unconscious, his arm broken, his rib cage battered and bruised and blood covering his face to the point that he was unrecognizable.

The two guards breathed sighs of relief and pulled themselves back into sitting positions on the floor, taking in deep lung fulls of air and giving the adrenaline time to settle down. Boeman dragged himself away from his adversary and then lay on his back, mouth open gasping for air with a hand to his throat. Like Heyes he was bleeding from his nose, his mouth and his ears not to mention the numerous cuts and bruises obtained throughout the wild rampage through the work stations. He omitted the occasional groan.

Finally Carson got his breath back.

"All three of 'em." He stated between gasps. "Two days each in a dark cell. Beginning now! They can have the privilege of seeing the doctor when they get out!"

Reece was in no mood to argue.

When Heyes woke up he was instantly hit with a wave of panic, thinking he had gone blind! He tried to scramble to his feet and was assaulted by nauseating pain as his left arm collapsed under him and his head started to spin. He lay there for a few moments, still as stone giving himself a chance to stop trembling and listening to his racing heart gradually slow back down to normal.

As he lay there staring into the darkness his mind became rational again and he realized that he wasn't actually blind, but simply in the dark cell. At least that part of his plan had worked out. As for the rest of it, he closed his eyes and groaned. That had not been part of the plan; he had known he was probably going to get hurt to some degree, but this had been way over the top—he wasn't a masochist after all!

He knew damn well that Boeman was behind the attack. His antagonism towards Heyes had reached new levels, but he was smart enough to know that he couldn't get away with actually killing him, so next best thing was to convince someone else to do it for him. Obviously Harris was just aggressive enough and stupid enough to allow himself to be manipulated into doing it. Or at least trying to.

The only good thing about the viciousness of the ensuing battle was that now, hopefully both Boeman and Harris would leave him alone. That just because Heyes had, on the most part, been avoiding a fight, it didn't mean that he couldn't hold his own if the fight was pushed onto him. He just hoped that Kenny wasn't going to hold too big of a grudge.

Heyes sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He gingerly cradled his left arm and thought miserably that there wasn't one square inch on his body that didn't hurt. Even his head was pounding. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to relax. He thought ruefully that the one good thing about the situation was that he was so exhausted and beaten down that he just didn't have the energy to conjure up the dark terrors that generally assaulted him in this cell. As long as nothing crawled over him.

He wasn't aware of the passage of time but eventually he slipped into unconsciousness again and when he woke up the second time, he was hot and feverish. And he had the shakes. He was wishing he had his warm blanket to wrap around himself but not having it he simply curled into a ball, partly for warmth and partly to protect his hurting body.

Then the nightmares started and the hallucinations took hold so that even in waking the darkness still held the creatures of his imagination. He would push himself into a corner and scream out his terror to a world that couldn't hear him and didn't care. He'd pray for death to take him and this misery that was his life could be over and done with and he could find peace again.

But life went on despite his rantings and by the time his punishment was over and they opened the cell to release him he was only semi-conscious and he had to be dragged out into the light. He was carried over to the infirmary and left in the good care of Dr. Morin and Sister Julia.

They got him bathed and patched up, and Morin set the arm and administered Quinine for the fever and to help him sleep then got him settled in to one of the cots and left him to recover. Sister Julia stayed by his side through most of the duration to help him through his fever—again. She did also tend to the other two inmates who were there to recover from their various injuries, but as fair with her time as she tried to be, she still tended to spend most of it at the bedside of her friend.

She would sit beside him, cool compresses against his forehead and listen to his quiet ramblings, mostly about 'The Kid'. But some were about his sister or about someone named Bridget, and then Abi and then other mumblings that made no sense and would gradually peter out into nothing.

She worried about her friend, not only about his chances for long-term survival in this awful place, but also about the sanctity of his soul.

Of course she knew that neither he nor Thaddeus were church going men, not many single men were in this hard land, it often took a wife and a family to bring a man to the church. Then once she learned of her friends' true identities, it made even more sense that they had neglected the spiritual part of their lives. Therefore she had been pleased to learn that Joshua at least had been attending chapel here at the prison and would perhaps find a new path for himself.

But as time went on she realized that he had slowly but surely decreased his attendance to Sunday services, preferring instead to remain alone in his cell, reading his books or writing letters. And now, after seeing the end result of him allowing the dark part of his soul, the dark part that we all carry with us, to burst forth and wreck such havoc she couldn't help but feel worried and disappointed. She wanted to help him find his way back and she only hoped that he would let her.

Of course she was totally unaware of the complex game Heyes was playing or of the strategy involved with setting up his persona as a dangerous inmate. Despite the fact that events had gotten somewhat out of hand to the extreme, it was all still playing in with what Heyes was trying to accomplish. Hopefully he had made his stance clear to the other inmates now and would never have to set himself up to accept such abuses again. Guards and inmates alike would look at him now and see 'trouble', and hopefully the last thing they'd be seeing was 'snitch'.

Curry had come in to town with Sam to help with supplies on the morning that he had received that very unusual telegram. He stood out on the steps of the telegraph office, not quite believing what he was reading;

"J.C. (stop) Don't come (stop) HH privileges revoked one month (stop) Started riot (stop). K.R.

Jed stood there and read the message a couple of times over before shaking his head and mumbling to himself;

"He started a riot? What the hell was he thinking?"

Then he sighed and turning around went straight back into the office to send a reply.

K.R. (stop) Coming to see you (stop) When and where? (stop) J.C.

The next day Jed got his reply back.

J.C. (stop) This Sat. 8:00 pm (stop) Jail Breakers Saloon (stop) K.R.

Curry arrived at the saloon on Saturday evening at 7:45, ordered himself a beer and sat himself down at one of the tables. He deliberately chose one that was over in the far corner where he could not only keep watch on the front door, but would also give them some measure of privacy once they got to talking.

Shortly after he got settled, Kenny arrived and going up to the bar to order himself a beer he then turned and casually surveyed the room looking for his contact. Curry spotted him when he entered the establishment but didn't recognize him at first. He had only met the guard once before, after all—and tonight Kenny was off duty and wearing civilian clothes so the older man really didn't stand out as anyone special. But as he approached the bar, Curry picked up on the body language and meeting his eyes, he nodded to him in recognition. Kenny responded, and picking up his beer he headed over to the table.

Curry stood up and they shook hands in greeting.

"Mr. Reece." Curry acknowledged him. "Thank you for meeting with me."

"You know, you may as well call me Kenny." The guard responded as he sat down. "I get the feeling we're going to be chatting a lot as time goes by."

"Yeah, good point. Name's Jed." Curry informed him while at the same time noticing that Kenny was sporting a black eye.

Ken gave a small knowing smile. "Not 'Kid'?" He asked.

"Naw. Only people who knew me as an outlaw call me 'Kid'." Jed explained. "More and more folks are callin' me 'Jed' now." Then he smiled ironically. "Guess it's time to grow up and move on."

"Hmmm. As with all things…." Kenny prophesied and took a swig of his beer.

"Yeah, I suppose." Then Jed looked at him speculatively. "So what's all this about Heyes startin' a riot?"

Kenny swallowed his beer and rolled his eyes.

"That was crazy!" He expostulated. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into your partner! As I mentioned to you before he has always been a bit hard to handle but this past month it's almost as though he's deliberately asking for trouble."

"Well what started it?" Jed asked. "What set him off?"

"He and another inmate, Boeman have been circling each other like wolves ever since Heyes came to us." Kenny explained. "Now it's normal when a new prisoner comes in for things to get stirred up a bit, always a shuffling of the pecking order, you know. Everybody finding their footing again. Generally things get sorted out with just a look or a bit of gesturing, but not between those two." Kenny shook his head and sighed. "I guess what really sat in Boeman's craw is that he was sending out challenges to Heyes and Heyes was simply ignoring him. Kind of an insult I guess."

"Yup." Jed commented. "Heyes is good at insultin' people without even opening his mouth." Then he smiled. "Even better at it when he does open his mouth."

"Uh huh." Kenny agreed. "Then something happened about a month ago. Heyes came out to the yard and made a bee line straight towards Boeman and was looking for a fight. Fortunately I was able to defuse it that time, but trouble was brewing; we could all feel it, we all knew it was coming. I tried to talk reason to him, get him to stand down, to think about what he was risking by starting trouble, but I knew he wasn't listening." Kenny paused here, took another drink from his beer and then blew out a sigh. "Jeez, what a mad house! I don't know for sure what set it off. One of the guards who was on the floor at the time said that another inmate by the name of Harris tried to throw Heyes off the third level walkway."

"Ohhh." Jed groaned.

"Yeah." Kenny agreed. "He failed, obviously. But Heyes just went crazy! It ended up down on the ground floor level and had the three of them; Heyes, Boeman and Harris all going for blood. Of course that got the other inmates all worked up and the next thing you know we had a riot on our hands."

Jed just shook his head and the two men sat in silence for a few minutes.

"How is he?" Curry finally asked. "Did he get badly hurt?"

"Yup."

Curry closed his eyes and groaned.

"Aside from the damage that the three men did to each other, I had to get pretty rough on Heyes myself—again! just to stop him from killing Boeman." Kenny admitted. "He just wouldn't back off." Then he sighed and looked over at Jed. "I guess one of the reasons I was willing to meet you here is that I hoped that you would have some insight into why your partner is behaving like this. He was always very careful before, making sure he didn't get caught breaking the rules. Now all of a sudden it's like he just doesn't care anymore."

"Yeah." Curry mumbled. Then he looked over into Kenny's grey eyes and saw honest concern there.

Jed ran his hands through his hair and then came to a decision for better or for worse. He was going to trust Kenny explicitly until such time as the guard proved himself unworthy of it. Jed hoped that he was right in his instinct about the man; cause if he wasn't it could become even more dangerous for Heyes inside that prison. But Jed also knew that Heyes needed someone to watch his back in there and since Curry wasn't available to do that he just had to hope that Kenny was true to his word and was already doing it. That being the case, the more Kenny knew of the true situation, the better he'd be able to watch out for Jed's partner.

Jed gave a sigh and took the plunge.

"Do you know anything about the deal Warden Mitchell made with Heyes?" He asked the guard.

Kenny creased his brow. "No." He admitted. "What deal?"

"Mitchell 'recruited' Heyes to do some spying for him." Curry divulged. "Just…you know….keep on doin' what he's always been doin' in watchin' his own back, only now he was to report anything 'suspicious' to the Warden. In return the Warden assured him he could keep his privileges and maybe even be pardoned in a year or two."

Kenny snorted. "That's a hoot! I can't remember the last time Warden Mitchell pardoned anybody, especially a lifer. That's not gonna happen."

"Yeah, we already figured that." Jed assured him, knowingly. "But the Warden also made it very clear what direction Heyes' life would go if he refused the offer. So, Heyes decided to play along with the Warden, pretend to agree and then heavily censor whatever information he passed on to him."

Kenny slowly let out his breath. "Ohhh, that's a dangerous game."

"Yup." Curry agreed. "But we couldn't think of any other way out of it."

"Sooo…." Kenny speculated, thinking it through and then putting it into words. "All this sudden tendency towards aggression is really just a ruse on Heyes' part to make it appear that he's a dangerous criminal and therefore the last person anyone, guards and inmates alike, would suspect of being in cahoots with the Warden. When in fact he really isn't in cahoots with the Warden, but makes it appear to that gentleman that he is."

"Yup." Curry concurred. "That's pretty much it."

Kenny sighed again. "That's smart. And devious." Then he gave a half-smile. "And just the type of behaviour I've come to expect from him." He turned serious again and looked Jed in the eye. "But like I said, very dangerous. He's walking a fine line."

"Yup." Curry concurred again. "So I'm hopin' you'll watch his back, and maybe cut him some slack on the punishment end of things."

"I'll do what I can." Kenny agreed. "But Carson is senior to me and has the last say on that, but still I'll try to watch out for him." Then he hesitated and knitted his brow. "That still doesn't really explain the ferociousness of this last confrontation. There is no doubt in my mind that Heyes was going to kill Boeman; just how was that suppose to help his situation?"

"Ahhh, I have a feeling that wasn't part of the plan." Jed admitted sheepishly. "Heyes suspected Boeman of taking something that was real important to him and when everything came to a head, well; I think he kinda lost control."

"Yeah! Just a bit." Kenny emphasized with raised eyebrows. "You shoulda' seen the carnage left behind!"

Jed gave a little laugh. "Yeah, okay." He conceded, and then sent the guard a hopeful glance. "Sure there's no chance of getting' in to see him tomorrow?"

Kenny sighed and sent him a rather frustrated look. "I had a feeling you were going to ask me that."

Jed smiled and threw an inquisitive look back at him.

"Well." Kenny speculated. "Heyes will be in the infirmary for another day or two just to make sure the fever is gone." Then he stopped and thought about the pros and cons. Jed waited it out. "Carson's not working tomorrow, so….maybe I can sneak ya' in the back way."

Jed grinned.

"Maybe!" Kenny reiterated. "And not for long!"

"Sure."

Kenny sighed again. "Okay, come up to the prison tomorrow after breakfast and ask for me at the reception and I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks! I really appreciate it." Jed insisted.

"Yeah." Kenny shook his head, frowning. "What is it about you two? You always seem to manage to get what you want."

Jed simply smiled his answer.

Then the two men finished what was left of their beers and called it a night.

Following Kenny down the corridors deep within the bowels of the prison really was setting Jed Curry on edge. Even knowing that he was a visitor and could turn around and leave this place at any time, he could still feel the oppressive atmosphere weighing down on him. And that weight became heavier and more suffocating with every door that was unlocked and then clanged shut again behind him. It truly was a cold and daunting journey into hell. Jed had to constantly remind himself to just keep putting one foot in front of the other and not to panic.

Finally Kenny unlocked one more door and ushered Jed in to an open ward that could be nothing other than the medical facility. There were a number of cots lined up along the far wall, some occupied, most not, and if that wasn't enough to give it away, the place just smelled like a hospital; sterile and sickly all at the same time. At least it was light and airy, with windows running down the opposite wall making it seem a little less oppressive albeit the windows all had bars on them. So still, obviously a prison.

Kenny touched Jed's arm and then nodded over to the far cot where a rather pale and dejected looking convict sat with his left arm in a sling and was staring off into space with a haunted and distant look to his eye. All the other times Jed had come to see his friend, Heyes had known that he was having a visitor so obviously he had adopted a demeanor to match the occasion. But now Kid was catching him off guard, catching him without his mask on. Seeing that expression coming from his partner sent chills through Jed's chest and he had to remind himself to keep breathing; it was terrifying, as though little by little, breath by breath, Heyes' soul was dying.

Then something caught Heyes' attention, some little movement over by the far door that brought him back to the present and caused him to glance over. The last person Heyes had expected to see walking in to the infirmary was his cousin so when their eyes met the change in the convict's countenance was instantaneous. His face lit up with a smile that brought the sparkle back into his eyes and the bedevilment returning to his persona. Jed grinned back.

"Hey, hey Partner!" Heyes greeted him as he got up off the cot. "What are you doin' here? I didn't think I was getting any visitors for a month!"

"Yeah, well Kenny snuck me in the back way." Curry informed him. "So I could see how you were doin'."

"Aww, great!" Heyes was thrilled and threw his right arm around the Kid's shoulders in a big friendship hug that had been a long time coming.

Kid returned it and couldn't help but think how skinny his cousin felt underneath the coarse prison garb, but decided it would be best not to mention that just then. Heyes sent a quick apprehensive glance over towards Kenny who was busy talking to Dr. Morin at that moment. Obviously he was expecting to get reprimanded for the physical contact, but when no reprimand was forthcoming he relaxed and smiling again, he slapped the Kid on the back and then rested his hand on his cousin's shoulder, not wanting to break away.

"How ya' doin' Heyes?" Kid asked him, concern in his eyes. "Ya' look like you've been through the wars here. And what's with that bump on the back of your head?"

"No, no, nothin', I'm fine." Heyes insisted as he led the Kid back over to his cot and indicated a chair for him to pull up and use. "I just had a little trouble with the locals, you know."

"Uh huh." Came the skeptical response. "Kinda went a little over the top though didn't ya'? It's one thing to convince the other inmates that you're a bad egg, but another to actually get yourself killed doing it." Kid's blue eyes were filled with concern. "What is it with you these days Heyes? What is this, the third for forth time you've totally lost it? You used to be the cool-headed planner and I was the one with the explosive temper, remember?"

Heyes sent another quick glance over towards the guard and lowered his voice.

"Yeah, I know." He agreed a little sheepishly. "I guess it's just being cooped up like this. I don't know…I just…I'm trying to adjust to it, but it just seems like things bother me a lot more now and once my temper flares up I don't seem to be able to bring it back down again." Then he put a hand on the Kid's arm and sent him one of his impish smiles. "I know I did kinda lose control there for a bit, but it worked though, didn't it? Nobody's gonna suspect anything now."

"Uh huh." Kid commented again. "I hope you're right. But even Kenny thinks it's a pretty dangerous game you're playin'."

"You told Kenny?" Heyes asked him a little skeptically.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"C'mon Heyes." Curry assured him quietly, hearing the doubt in his partner's voice. "You said yourself we could trust him, and I needed to have someone in here watching your back."

"Yeah, I suppose."

Kid put a hand on Heyes' right arm and gave him a gentle shake. Heyes looked up from his brooding and met his eyes.

"You needed someone in here watching your back." Curry reiterated. "Kenny's the best bet we got."

Then Heyes smiled, bringing himself out of his doubts and letting Kid take the lead on this one.

"Yeah, you're right." Heyes conceded. "Of course. It's good." Then he brightened up and gave Kid a gentle punch on the arm. It was as though he was looking for any excuse to indulge in the physical touch while he could. "How's my favorite girl? Is she in 'the delicate' way?"

Kid snorted. "Your brain is addled Heyes; there ain't nothin' delicate about her 'way'!" Then he smiled. "But yeah, Jesse's pretty sure she is."

"Ha, ha! Good!" Heyes was all excited, smiling from ear to ear. "Now you gotta keep me up to date with this, right Kid? Keep me informed as to how she's doing and all."

"Yeah, of course Heyes." Kid agreed. "And you can bet that Beth will be writing ya' letters all full of what Karma is up to and who knows; ya' might even be home in time for the new arrival. It takes eleven months ya' know."

"Eleven months?"

"Yeah."

"That long?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Heyes became thoughtful. "Well, maybe."

"Thaddeus!"

Kid looked up, startled and then a huge smile broke across his face.

"Sister Julia!" He greeted the familiar face and habit. "Ho ho! Heyes told me you were helping out here!" And he gave her a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm fine Thaddeus." She assured him, obviously very happy to see him. "I'm so glad things have worked out for you—you deserve it."

"Well, I don't know about that Sister…."

"Now don't get going on that stuff again Kid." Heyes interrupted him. "Just be happy with what the fates gave ya'. Besides, like I said before; I need you out there to help me get outa here!"

Kid looked repentant and smiled. "Yeah, you're right Heyes." Then his smile brightened up. "I'll try to be more appreciative of the luck of the Irish."

"Yeah!"

Over on the other side of the ward Kenny stood quietly leaning against the counter and watching the three friends bantering back and forth. He'd known Heyes for almost a year now and had never heard him laugh before—at least not like this, not without the bitter and sardonic undertone to it. It made him wonder and not for the first time, at the legitimacy of the penal system that he worked in these days.

It was one thing to lock men up (and some women too) in prison. If they had broken the laws of the land or were dangerous to the citizenry of the country then of course they had to be dealt with. But the strict rules of no talking, and no physical contact between the prisoners with members of their family or of close friends, that just didn't seem right somehow. He wondered at the long-term psychological effect that those rules might have on an individual; it was just so contradictory to basic human nature.

Seeing Heyes come alive when his cousin walked in to the room, seeing his face light up with a smile, seeing him reaching out for the physical connection that is normally denied the inmates, brought all these musings back on to Kenny with a vengeance. The Hannibal Heyes whom Kenny had come to know was stoic and unpredictable and some might even say; dangerous. But there was intelligence there and a thinking, logical mind and Kenny also knew that a lot of Heyes' behaviour was in response to Carson's bullying. Still, Heyes' response was often very aggressive. The guard was always careful around him and had even wondered sometimes at the wisdom of allowing him to work in the infirmary, but Morin liked him and it seemed to help the inmate find some stability, so….

Admittedly, after this last episode Kenny was ready to accept that he had made a mistake in recommending Heyes for Morin's new assistant; that the convict really was too volatile and that he could not be trusted. Then he had met up with Jed Curry and was given a whole new insight as to what exactly was going on. And then there was this nun; Sister Julia who obviously knew both these men and seemed to think that they were worthy of her time and friendship. Hmmmm.

Then he was back to watching Heyes again. He was an enigma and Kenny wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with him. Then he thought that it probably wasn't going to be up to him anyways. Heyes' privileges had been revoked for a month when normally the behaviour he had exhibited on the work floor would have warranted a far harsher punishment and privileges revoked indefinitely. If, after the month was up and Heyes was back working in the laundry room and the infirmary then Kenny would know that what Jed Curry had told him was probably true; that Warden Mitchell believed that Heyes was working for him.

If, on the other hand, Heyes' privileges were not re-instated after that allotted time then Kenny might be safe to assume that Jed had lied to him in order to protect his friend from further punishment. Their loyalty to one another obviously transcended prison walls and one would apparently be willing to sacrifice anything in order to insure the safety of the other. Kenny sighed; like he thought before, Heyes was an enigma. Only time would tell what was really going on here and to be honest, Kenny wasn't sure which way he hoped it would go.

TO BE CONTINUED


	19. Chapter 19

Settling In

The month of punishment went by fairly slowly for Heyes which is, I suppose, not a big surprise to anyone. His left forearm did not cause too much of an inconvenience as the break had been clean and the infection that had developed in the dark cell was cleared up quite quickly once it got hit with the right medications. It did of course need to stay in a cast for six weeks, but not in a sling, so Heyes was still able to perform many of the duties required of him on the work floor.

Still, he missed his visitors and his books and the variety of duties that helped to keep the mundane from ruling his life. So when he was finally able to return to the infirmary to continue on there he found that he appreciated the privilege even more than he had when he had first started it. Kinda hard to miss having something if you hadn't had it in the first place.

The other person who appreciated Heyes' return to his regular duties was Dr. Morin. When Heyes had first been thrown into the dark cell yet again as punishment for fighting, ole' Doc Morin had raised quite a stink. Not only was he loosing the aid of the best assistant he'd ever had, but the risk of infection and fever to all three of the inmates who had been injured and then denied treatment for two days just went totally against his medical judgment.

In fact, it rankled the Doc so much that the next time he saw Kenny, which happened to be the morning that the guard had snuck Jed Curry in to the infirmary to visit his friend, Doc Morin quietly, but firmly stated his case.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOIN'!?" Morin snarked. "All three of 'em had injuries that should have been tended to right away. Harris wasn't too bad and fortunately didn't have any problems develop, but Heyes had quite a fever when he was finally brought in here and you're lucky Boeman didn't choke to death on his own blood!"

"Don't go chewin' me out Doc." Kenny said in his own defense. "Carson ordered it and he's the boss."

"Yeah, but you coulda' said something!" Morin accused him.

"Yeah, I coulda'." Kenny agreed. "But to be quite honest I was so mad at all three of them that I didn't feel much like getting into an argument with Carson right at that moment. Heyes damn near gave me a concussion when he head butted me not to mention this black eye from Boeman! So I wasn't feeling too compassionate about the fact that they'd been injured turning the work floor into a battle field! Not to mention inciting a riot!"

"What do ya' mean 'damn near gave you a concussion?!' I told ya' it was a mild concussion and that you should take a couple of days off." Morin challenged him, having gotten stuck on Kenny's first argument. "But did you listen to me? Nooo! Everybody knows better than the Doc! Serves ya' right!"

Kenny stopped talking at that point, realizing that he was getting pissed off all over again. He took a deep breath to try and bring his anger back down and stood watching Heyes interacting with his cousin.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I know you're right Doc." Kenny then conceded. "But it was still Carson's call, and those three idiots have been dancing around each other for months now so maybe after this they'll think twice about pushing for a fight again. I hope so anyway—enough of this bull-t!"

"From what I hear Carson's been pushin' for it too, maybe he's the one who needs to back off." Morin pointed out. "Heyes isn't the only one being punished here—now I have to go for a month without my assistant and that's just downright depressing!"

Kenny nodded. "I know Doc." He agreed. "I don't think even Carson expected things to get as out of control as they did so maybe he will just leave them alone now—let them work out their own truce. And as for your other complaint; you're the one who pushed to get Heyes over here. You coulda' requested any number of inmates to be your new assistant, ones who aren't so libel to be getting into trouble. I warned ya' what Heyes was like."

"I know, I know!" Morin grumbled. "But he's still the best assistant I've ever had so I guess he's worth the problems he causes."

Then both men stopped their conversation and looked over at the inmate in question. He was happy, almost playful in his conversation with his two friends now that Sister Julia had just joined them. Both men silently noted to themselves that they were witnessing yet another dimension to the convict's character that neither of them had ever seen before.

"Well, I got paperwork to do." Morin finally announced. "You gonna be much longer?"

"No." Kenny answered. "I'll give them some time to visit and then we'll be gone."

"Fine." And then grumbled as he walked towards his office. "Just don't send me any more patients, I'm gonna be short-handed for a month!"

Kenny smiled and nodded agreement and then went back to his observations and quiet musings concerning those two most notorious of outlaws; Jed 'Kid' Curry and Hannibal Heyes.

Much to everyone's relief, things did start to settle down at the prison after the big blow out. Everyone eventually got back to their regular duties and Kenny had pretty much accepted the information that Heyes playing at being a double agent was indeed the truth. It wasn't so much that Heyes' behaviour had changed but more because it hadn't. Not to mention his privileges were returned to him right on schedule and Warden Mitchell suddenly was taking more of an interest in how that particular inmate was coming along.

Heyes himself was pleased that, as hoped, both Boeman and Harris had decided to back off from him. They made a point of avoiding Heyes whenever they had the choice, and if they were forced into one another's personal space, well, body language and the lack of eye contact did a lot to convey the message; you leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. Since that was all Heyes wanted in the first place, this new agreement suited him just fine.

So time went on. Spring moved into summer and Heyes discovered that the prison could be just as hot during that season as it could be cold during the winter. Opportunity to join a work gang in order to get outdoors for a few days was jumped at by just about everyone. Even though it meant being chained and doing physical labour out in the heat of the day, it was still a relief compared to being cooped up inside the stifling prison all summer long.

Not to mention, some of the locals, whose fences were being repaired, or new barns being erected would often come out with water, or even lemonade to help slacken the thirst of the convicts. There was even one little old widow lady who brought out ice tea, chicken and apples not to mention sweet and endearing conversation for the lonely and tired work gang.

A couple of the guards tried to shue her away, but she just shued them back threatening to give their backsides a paddling if they didn't learn some manners! No harm came from her visits though, and the convicts were considerate and polite to her to a man so eventually she was allowed to carry on with her visiting, unhindered.

Back at the Double J, Jed was getting frustrated. Beth had been working consistently sending out flyers and letters asking for support in getting their friend pardoned from prison. Unfortunately, as in most things that carry on over time, people who were very accommodating at first were loosing interest and getting on with their own lives. Beth's requests were becoming more and more just a nuisance in people's busy schedules and were being generally ignored.

Jed's own attempts at getting in to see Governor Warren were getting just about as much notice as Beth's flyers and Steven suggested that he back off the harassment for a time just in case the Governor decided to file a court order against him. Jed and Beth both had hit a brick wall. What else could they do? Whatever information Abi might have obtained to use as leverage was now obsolete since Warren's questionable business dealings were starting to become public anyways and general opinion was that he wasn't long for the office.

"Just wait." Steven had strongly suggested. "Wait and see what happens."

"But now would be the time to hit him the hardest!" Jed had insisted. "If he's about to be thrown out of office anyways, what more damage could be done by pardoning Heyes?"

"He's fighting for his political life!" Steven countered. "When your boat is sinking, the last thing you're going to do is add more water to it!"

Eventually Jed had to concede anyways. Even Lom wasn't getting in to see the Governor these days and any requests for an audience from Curry were just being blatantly ignored. It was proving to be a difficult summer.

One pleasant respite from the frustrations was the much anticipated marriage of Sam Jefferies to Maribelle Riley. The wedding day in mid summer had been warm and promising for the young couple and since just about everyone in town had been invited it really turned into quite a shindig and an enjoyable time was had by all.

Only two minor details marred the festivities for a couple of the guests. One being that Bridget had decided to be extremely busy that weekend and therefore, much to her mother's disappointment, would not be attending. The second minor incident was that Beth caught the bouquet, much to Jed's disappointment. But those two things aside, everyone had a good time and the dancing and consuming of punch went well on into the early hours.

Everyone slept late the next morning, even Belle who was usually up with the dawn allowed herself a couple of extra hours to recuperate from the festivities of the previous day. Fortunately the youngest member of the Jordan family was content to allow her to do this and didn't start complaining for breakfast until he actually heard his mother start to stir.

Belle quietly rolled herself out of bed so as not to disturb her snoring husband and then donning her housecoat and slippers she glided over to the crib to tend to the baby. She quickly and quietly changed his diaper and then hoisting him up to her shoulder, carried him downstairs amongst happy coos and gurglings. He really was getting heavy.

Once downstairs she put him down on the floor so he could crawl or attempt to walk anywhere he chose to while she lit the stove and started the coffee for when the rest of the family decided to rise and shine. Oatmeal was next on the agenda. She was busy with all these preparations when she heard the door to the downstairs bedroom open and she turned to see a rather disheveled Jed Curry stumble out towards the kitchen.

"Good morning Thaddeus."

"Hmmm."

"Coffee?"

"OH, yes!"

Then there was some delighted gurgling from Jay as he maneuvered his way over to his favorite 'uncle'. Little hands grabbed onto a pant leg and pulled himself up to his very unsteady feet and made it quite clear that he wanted some attention.

"Oh, hey there little man." Jed greeted him sleepily. "What do you want?"

"Ahhhg."

"What's that?"

"AHHG!"

"Up?"

"AHHG!" And a little fist punched a manly knee.

"Oh, you want up." Jed teased him. "Well why didn't you say so?"

Then Jed reached down and swung the willing tyke up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes that reverberated with wild shrieks and excited laughter.

"Well if that doesn't get the rest of the household up, nothing will." Belle commented with a smile. "I guess we all had quite a late night."

"Uh huh." Jed agreed. "But the horses will still be wanting their breakfast and since I am supposed to be filling in for Sam here, I guess I better get to it."

"Well here." Said Belle as she handed him a cup of coffee. "I'll trade you."

Jed smiled as he took the cup from her and then leaned down a little to help shuffle Jay over into his mother's arms. The little guy protested at first, but once he realized that Mama was about to feed him breakfast all thoughts of play went out of his mind. Jed headed outdoors just as Beth and her father were making their way downstairs.

It really was a pleasant summer morning and Jed yawned and stretched as he headed over to the barns. The coffee tasted good. Then the onslaught began. The three dogs were the first to realize that the humans were finally on the move and they came running over with their tails wagging indicating a desire to be fed. Rufus greeted Jed with one loud 'woof' then turned and with an important air about him, led the way towards the barn where the food was stored. Peanut and Pebbles danced and yapped joyously about Jed's feet and also helped to escort him in the right direction.

By the time Jed had entered the barn the horses had been well informed that food was on its way and he was greeted by loud snorts and nickerings and stamping of feet. He went into the feed room and began dishing out the various different portions and quickly got the dogs out from under foot. Then he emptied a large bag of grain into a wheelbarrow and making his way down the aisle began scooping a serving of grain into five of the six occupied stalls. Soon the barn was filled with the contented banging and munching of most of the horses.

Karma was not pleased. Why was she not getting her grain at the same time as the others? Her ears went back and tossing her head in agitation she began pawing at her stall door. Then as soon as Jed appeared out of the feed room, carrying a 'special' bucket of feed, her ears shot up straight and she began to nod at him in anticipation.

Opening her stall door, he had to push her searching nose away so he could dump the supplemented feed into her manger at which point, she eagerly tucked in and began to devour it. Jed smiled and gave her a rub on the neck.

"There ya' go, young lady." He softly murmured to her. "Eating for two now aren't ya'?"

He was answered by a contented snort.

Next on the agenda, Jed climbed up the ladder to the hay loft and dragging a bale over to the opening he pushed it through and let it tumble down to the isle floor. Then he climbed back down after it and dragged it into the feed room. He broke it apart and putting six flakes into the same wheelbarrow he headed down the isle again and tossed a flake each into the six stalls. That done, he gave his own gelding a pat on the neck, then pushed the barrow back to the feed room and headed to the house for his own breakfast.

Once he was done with his morning meal then the horses would also be done with their's and Jed would let them all out into the different pastures and set about cleaning the barns.

All in a day's work. It was Sunday so there was no point going into town for supplies and it was likely going to be a laid back kind of day anyways. At least that was what Jed thought as he was heading into the house for breakfast, but things don't always turn out the way we think they will.

Later on, after a very casual lunch of sandwiches and tea, Jed was out by the pasture fence making sure that the horses had water for the rest of the warm day when he turned around and nearly walked into Beth. She looked fresh and pretty, wearing a light summer frock with her blond hair pulled back into a pony tail. She smiled openly at him, her brown eyes sparkling.

"Ahhh, hi Beth." He began tentatively.

"Hello Thaddeus. Are you going for a ride this afternoon?"

"Hadn't planned on it." Jed admitted. "Buck's still kinda tired from the ride into town and back yesterday."

"He's tired just from that?" She asked with knitted brow.

"Well, he's not a spring chicken anymore." Jed explained. "And it was pretty hot yesterday." Then added in a mumble. "Gettin' kinda warm right now too."

"Yes, I suppose it is." Beth agreed with a shy smile. Then she perked up. "Wasn't that a lovely wedding yesterday? Maribelle looked so pretty and happy too!"

"I hope she'd be happy!" Jed commented. "She's gonna be spending the rest of her life with Sam, so if she wasn't happy about it, there's something wrong."

"I suppose." She agreed. "I guess when you've met the right man, you just know, don't you?"

"Well, sometimes."

Then Beth brightened up again. "I caught the bouquet, did you know?"

"Yup." Jed nodded. "Uh huh." He started to feel a slight dread hit him in the pit of his stomach.

"You know what that means don't you?"

"Yup." Jed admitted. "I wouldn't put too much stock in that though, it's just an old wives tale."

"Oh." Beth looked disappointed.

Jed smiled and put a hand on his friends' shoulder. "C'mon Beth." He said. "You've got lots of time before ya' gotta start thinking about that stuff. Live a little first. Get out there and enjoy life, give yourself a chance to find out what you really want."

"But, I know what I want!" She insisted with a bit of a sulk.

"At seventeen?" Jed asked with an incredulous tone to his voice.

"I'm almost eighteen!" She insisted indignantly. "I think I'm old enough to know my own mind!"

"Aww Beth." Jed was sympathetic. "Believe me, you don't know yet. The last thing you want to do is rush into a marriage before you've had a chance to explore your options. I've seen it happen too many times. Marrying too young and then living to regret it. And once you're married, you're kinda stuck and then you'll be miserable for the rest of your life."

"But I wouldn't be miserable." Beth insisted. "And I'm not too young to know."

Jed sighed and leaned back against the fence. He looked off into the distance for a moment and then down at his own hands, trying to put into words the thoughts that were swirling around him. How to explain this without hurting her feelings, without treating her like a child? He gently squeezed her arm and she looked up at him, into those brilliant blue eyes and her heart did a little somersault. But the look that he sent back to her was one of compassion and concern but not love and it scared her a little bit.

"I remember when I was seventeen—almost eighteen." He said quietly. "I remember thinking that I knew what really mattered and what was important. Beth, you were at my trial, you heard me admit to doing certain things. I'd already killed when I was younger than you are right now. I'd made the worse mistakes of my life all before I was twenty years of age. And all the while thinking that I was right, that I was justified, that that's what I wanted. By the time I was twenty-five the choices I had made had already set my life onto a path that was dangerous and self-destructive. All the while we were thinking that we were in the right, that we were the smart ones—that we had life by the horns and we were going to live it to the fullest.

"It took a long time for us to realize the selfishness of our choices—the conceit. And now Heyes is paying for both of us. Paying the price for our bad decisions and our arrogance in thinking that we were better than everybody else. That because of what we had been through we had the right to do what we did.

"I'm just getting to a point in my life now where I only know what I don't want. I'm not going to be able to think about what I do want or even, who I really am until all the consequences of those bad choices have been dealt with and cleared away. And I have no idea how long that is going to take. You can't possibly know what you want yet Beth. You need to take the time to get to know yourself first."

"But a lot of those choices you made were because of the things that happened to you when you were a child!" Beth felt like she was fighting for her life. "I never had to go through any of that. I had a happy childhood so it would only make sense that I would know myself better now—I'm not a child Thaddeus!"

"I know that Beth!" Jed agreed. "I can see that! But you're still…."

"Bridget's only a year and half older than I am." Beth cut him off. "And she's being courted by Steven. Two of her friends got married last year and one of them already has a baby! My friend Jane who is three months younger than me got married this past spring and my other friend Ruth is betrothed!"

"It's not a race Beth!" Jed pointed out. "And there is one big difference between them and us!"

"What?!"

"I'm fifteen years older than you!" Jed said blatantly. "All your friends married young men who are around their same age. They've all know each other for years—grew up together. That makes a big difference!"

"Bridget didn't grow up knowing Steven!" Beth pointed out. "She's only known him for a year!"

"I know that." Jed admitted. "But they are still a lot closer in age than we are and they share a lot of things in common. And believe it or not Beth, at your age a year and a half encompasses a lot of growing up!"

"But Momma is a lot younger than Papa—almost fifteen years! And they have a wonderful marriage."

Jed sighed. This was not going well. "I know that." He admitted. "But your Papa had a lot more to offer as a husband and a father than I do. I've got nothing to offer you Beth. I have no money, very little education and even fewer prospects—you could do so much better."

Beth was almost stamping her foot in frustration.

"I don't want 'better'!" She insisted. "I want you. Why don't you want me? Don't you like me?"

"Of course I like you Beth." Jed answered her gently. "I like you a lot."

"But you still go in to town to see those saloon girls." Beth pointed out. "If you like me so much why do you go to see them?"

Jed stood dumbfounded for a moment, his mouth hanging open. He had no idea how to answer that! How do you explain to a maiden the difference between having sex and making love? He looked at her and her big brown eyes stared back at him, awaiting an answer.

"Aww, Beth. Ahhh." He sighed, a hand on her shoulder. "Beth, you don't…..that's not real….." Oh brother, what now? "You don't want me coming to you for that Beth." He finally explained quietly. "That's just frivolous—it doesn't mean anything. You want a man to respect you, to come courting."

"Hmm." Beth commented thoughtfully. "That's what Momma said."

"Well she's right." Jed backed it up, though feeling a little exposed knowing that Beth had already spoken to her mother on this topic. Could a man have no privacy around here?

"So if you like me, then why…?"

"Beth, please." Jed was almost begging. "I'm still trying to work out who I am now and what I need to do to help my partner. I'm just not able to even think about marriage or even courting anyone until I get these other things in my life sorted out. Can you understand that?"

"But that could take years!" Beth complained. "All of my friends are either married or getting married soon! At this rate I'm going to end up an old maid—I'm not getting any younger you know!"

Then Jed couldn't help it and he laughed out loud.

"Ho ho! Beth darlin'! You're so young it scares me!" Then instantly realized that he had said the wrong thing.

Beth drew herself up in total indignation and with a horrified look that soon became awash with tears; she pivoted around and made a wild dash towards the house taking a hurting heart with her.

Jed slumped back against the fence having been hit with his own level of regret and frustration. And yes, hurt too.

"Aww, no. Jeez." He mumbled. Then stood up and shouted after her. "Beth! Beth don't! Please. BETH!"

But she had disappeared into the house at that point and obviously wasn't listening to him. He had started to run towards the house himself, but then stopped half way and realized the futility of that. He sighed again and then with slumped shoulders, turned and walked over towards the barn.

Dammit! He had really put his foot in it that time. Why does everything have to get so complicated? He had tried so hard not to hurt her feelings and had ended up saying the worse thing ever! What the hell was the matter with him anyway? He kicked an empty bucket and hit the wall with a fist! Rufus decided it was time to go outside and sleep in the sunshine.

Jed continued to pace around inside the barn, mumbling to himself and shaking his head in the frustration of not knowing how to deal with this very sensitive situation. Finally he stopped and sighed and thought about what he usually did to help clear his mind and settle his nerves. That was easy; target practice. Oh, but Damn! His holster and gun were in his bedroom in the house and he really didn't want to go in there just now. He sighed again. Damn.

Then a small sound caught his attention and he looked up to see Jesse standing in the doorway of the barn. Oh, damn again! It's bad enough causing a scene with a young lady who is sweet on ya', but when the father of that young lady is well within earshot it can be downright inconvenient.

"Problem?" Jesse asked him rather casually.

"Aw, Jesse. I donno!" Jed fussed, running fingers through curls. "I didn't mean to upset her. I like Beth—a lot." Then as a quiet aside; "Maybe too much." Jesse's eyebrows went up. "But I just can't give her what she wants right now!"

Jesse smiled and walked deeper into the barn.

"The problem with being young, especially a young lady; is that everything hurts so much." He explained. "Beth thinks she knows what she wants—and I don't know, maybe she does. But because she is so certain of her feelings she just can't understand how you could not be, so she takes it personally."

"No, she shouldn't take it like that." Jed insisted.

"I know that." Jesse assured him. "But she doesn't. Unfortunately it might take one or two heartbreaks for her to realize it."

"But I do care about Beth." Jed repeated and then sighed again, feeling even more frustrated. "I don't want to be the one who hurts her like that."

Jesse shrugged. "Sometimes we're not the ones who get to decide that." He said. "All you can do is 'handle with care'." Jed snorted. "No, I've been watching you." Jesse admitted. "You've always treated Beth with respect and consideration and kindness—a father can't ask for more than that. You've never led her on or played with her affections and she's just going to have to learn the difference between friendship and romance. And that can be a hard lesson to learn."

"Oh brother." Jed did not sound convinced. "I donno Jesse, maybe I should just leave after all. I don't want to; you folks well, you aren't 'like' family anymore; you are family. And David is a really good friend and I guess I've gotten kinda used to having that now. And without Heyes, well being on the trail seems kinda lonely. But—this isn't fair on Beth. I should just get out of her life for a while, give her a chance to get over it and meet someone else more appropriate."

"Well that's up to you." Jesse responded. "We'd all be sorry to see you go." He smiled. "Not just Beth. Don't make any rash decisions Jed. Why don't you saddle up ole' Spike and go for a ride, clear your head? You can bet your bottom dollar that Belle is in the house right now having a talk with Beth and by the time you get back, well there could be a whole new slant on things."

Jed thought about that for a moment and then nodded with a quiet smile.

"Yeah, okay." He agreed. "That's probably a good idea."

"Fine."

Jay was contentedly playing on the dinning room floor while Belle was finishing up in the kitchen after the mid-day meal when she heard Thaddeus shouting her daughter's name. Of course that got her attention and she turned away from her cleaning up just in time to see her youngest daughter come running through the front door and up to her room. Obviously something earth shattering to a teenage heart had just transpired as Belle could not help but notice that Beth had her hand over her mouth and was fighting the angsty sobs of operatic tragedy.

With a resigned sigh, the mother of three scooped up her son and among squirms and complaints from that young man, headed up the stairs to try to calm the flow of tears. When she got to the door of Beth's room she was surprised that all she heard was silence from inside, so she knocked quietly and waited for her daughter's permission to enter. A strained little 'come in' followed and Belle opened the door to find Beth sitting quietly on her bed looking tear-stained but sheepish.

"What happened?" Belle asked as she put Jay down to explore his sister's floor. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Came the sloppy answer as she gulped and sniffed and wiped her tears. "I have been such a total idiot!"

"I think that is a bit of an exaggeration." Belle countered as she went to sit down on the bed as well. "Do you want to elaborate?"

Beth sighed. "It just dawned on me that I have been doing exactly what you told me not to do."

Belle smiled. It's always nice to have your children acknowledge your wisdom.

"And what was that exactly?" She asked.

"You told me not to chase after him, to wait until he was ready to come to me." Beth explained. "But now I realize that I have been doing just that! I didn't think that I was, I just wanted him to like me! But you were right; all I've done is push him further away!"

"Oh. I see."

"Now I'm sure he hates me!" Beth insisted, anger at herself taking over from the tears.

"I highly doubt that." Belle countered. "From what I have seen Thaddeus very much enjoys your company."

"Really?"

"Of course he does!" Belle insisted, then smiled and patted her daughter's arm. "You just need to give him some room."

Beth nodded, emitting another large sigh. Then she caught her breath as an alarming thought occurred to her and she turned large and frightened eyes to her mother.

"You don't suppose he's going to leave do you?"

Belle only got so far as to open her mouth to respond when Beth jumped up from the bed and headed at a run towards the door.

"OH NO!" She wailed. "He can't leave!"

And then she stampeded down the stairs and out the front door the way that only a teenage girl can do. Belle sighed and glanced over at her son.

"Thank goodness you are a long ways off from putting us through this."

Jay smiled and gurgled at his mother while he stuffed one of Beth's socks into his mouth.

Down in the first barn, Jed was just in the process of throwing a saddle onto the back of a very nice pinto gelding when Beth made a somewhat self-conscious entrance through the open double doors. She quickly, though a little late, began to straighten out her hair and her frock and make sure the last of her silly tears were gone from her face and then she took the plunge.

"Thaddeus?"

Jed turned; surprised to see her there and then he looked a little self-conscious himself.

"Oh, Beth….ahhmmm."

"No Thaddeus!" She assured him as she quickly stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I've been pushing and I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh, well…."

"I know you've been through a lot this past year." Beth acknowledged. "And actually, for a lot longer than just the year. You're actually been having to re-discover who you are all over again." Then she smiled mischievously. "In a way you could say that I'm older than you are."

Jed snorted then laughed. "Yeah, I suppose you have a point there."

Then she turned serious again. "I also know that you are very worried about Joshua."

"Yup." Jed nodded, turning serious again as well. "He's having a hard time Beth. I don't know how much longer he's gonna be able to hang on there and to be quite honest I'm at a loss as to what else I can do about it. Lom and Steven are doing everything they can, but a lot of the doors are just gettin' slammed in their faces and the governor sure ain't any more accommodating towards me!"

"I know." Beth agreed. "It's just like all my letters asking for support—nobody seems interested anymore. It's like they'd rather just forget all about Hannibal Heyes."

"Yeah, well I don't intend to forget about him!" Jed insisted with a bit of heat. "I just gotta figure out another way of comin' at them!"

"Bridget is working as Steven's assistant now." Beth pointed out, and then she smiled and put both hands on Thaddeus' arm. "Will you let me be yours? Let me help you."

"You have been helping Beth." Jed reminded her. "I know it was all the work that you and Bridget did that saved my neck. And you've carried on doing the same for Heyes. You have been helping."

"But we have to do more, because the letters are no longer working." She said. "Won't you let me come with you when you go see the Governor and when you go see Joshua?"

"Oh now Beth." Jed backed off of that. "I told you that Joshua doesn't want you coming to see him there and on top of that I really don't think your Papa would approve of you traveling around the countryside with me and no chaperone!"

Beth sighed in frustration. "Oh that is so silly! But I suppose you're right. Still," She continued. "I want to do more to help you with this, will you let me?"

"Of course Beth." Jed agreed. "I could use all the help I can get!"

"Good!" She smiled and presented her right hand for him to shake.

Jed laughed, but then he took her hand and they shook on it.

"Friends?" She asked him.

"Friends."

"Good!"

"Now how would you like to join me for a ride before supper?" Jed suggested.

"I'd love to." Beth accepted with a smile. "Papa said that it was still alright to ride Karma just as long as I don't gallop her."

"Good." Jed agreed. "She could probably do with a stretch. I'll get the horses tacked up while you go get changed. How's that?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Heyes sat in the visitor's room again, waiting for his company to arrive. Not surprisingly, Kid had been his first visitor right after the punishment period had ended and now Heyes was anticipating a session with his lawyer.

He was shackled hand and foot yet again since the cast had been removed from his arm by this time. The bone had healed straight and clean and Heyes was not oblivious to the favour that Kenny had done him. He had no doubt in his mind that Carson had meant it when he warned Heyes that he had crippled inmates before and wouldn't mind at all doing it again. Heyes knew he had been lucky that Kenny was the one who had landed that blow since Reece's intent, always, was to subdue not to cripple.

Heyes sighed and sat back while he awaited his legal counsel. He and Kenny definitely had an unusual relationship. There seemed to be a mutual respect there but at the same time neither one ever took the other for granted. Kenny was an old hand and knew his business so he sure wasn't about to take any nonsense from a youngster like Heyes. But at the same time the guard was well aware of the inmate's reputation and acknowledged him as a step above the average convict. Still, there was an order to things that had to be maintained and as long as both accepted that, they'd get by.

Then Heyes was brought out of his inner musings when the outer door opened and Steven stepped into the room. Heyes smiled a greeting, but then his expression suddenly changed from acceptance to surprise and then anger. He was on his feet so abruptly that he knocked his chair over and Pearson, still a little edgy from the riot thought Heyes was going to attack his visitors. The guard jumped forward and grabbing Heyes by the belt yanked him back and into the wall. Heyes lost his balance and went down, the business end of the guard's rifle suddenly staring him in the face.

"NO! No, don't treat him like that!" Came the feminine protest and the young lady ran around the table to protect her friend.

Pearson was instantly between them. "NO! Miss! STOP!" He ordered her. "This inmate is dangerous! Get back to the other side of the table! NOW!"

"HE'S NOT DANGEROUS….!"

"BRIDGET!" Heyes yelled at her. "Do what he says! NOW!"

"Bridget, come on." Said Steven. "You promised me you would not approach him…no matter what. Remember?"

"Come on Sweetie." Came Clem's soothing tone. "Come on back here so we can all sit down and be reasonable!" This last bit aimed directly at the guard.

Bridget reluctantly submitted to the logic of her friends and retreated to the other side of the table but it didn't stop her from glaring daggers over at the guard.

Once Pearson was satisfied that everyone was where they should be he grabbed Heyes under the arm and hauled him to his feet. He then pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back into the wall.

"Just wait there Heyes." He ordered. "Don't move."

The inner door opened and Murrey stuck his head in.

"Everything alright in here?" He asked.

"Watch Heyes for a minute will ya'?" Pearson asked him. "Let me get this sorted out."

Murrey stepped inside the room, his rifle ready while Pearson righted the knocked over chair and then looked over to the lawyer.

"I don't think this is a good idea." The guard said to him. "I know you're his lawyer and you have the right to a private session with him. But he is very unpredictable and with these ladies here…."

"No, it's alright Guard." Steven assured him. "Both of these ladies are friends of his, he won't hurt them."

Pearson did not look convinced.

Steven smiled at him. "I'll take full responsibility." He reiterated. "He'll be fine. I'll call you if we need any assistance."

"Fine." Pearson conceded. Then he motioned to the inmate. "Alright Heyes, sit down. You better behave yourself or you'll be back in the dark cell for sure. I'm beginning to think that you're starting to like it in there."

Heyes rolled his eyes, shuffled his way back over to the table and sat down again. Then the two guards left and shut the door behind them. Heyes sat silently; he was not pleased.

"Joshua…."

Heyes snapped his eyes onto Bridget; they were in a slow burn. Bridget felt a slight twinge of fear; she had never seen her friend angry before—she had heard him angry, in the jail cell back in Cheyenne, but never had she seen it, and certainly not aimed at her. The Joshua she knew had always been so kind and amiable but now she was getting just a glimpse of the threatening and intimidating outlaw leader that the law had always insisted he was. She wondered, briefly if this side of him had always been there and he had just hidden it away from them, or if being in this terrible place was causing it—or, more likely was it a bit of both?

Bridget took a deep breath and summoned up her courage, reminding herself that he was still the same man whom she loved and had come to think of as a brother. She looked him straight in the eyes and met his anger.

"I'm sorry I over-reacted." She told him. "But before you get all accusing on me, I should let you know that I have every right to be here."

Heyes opened his mouth to argue that point but Steven cut him off.

"She's right, Mr. Heyes." He emphasized. "Bridget is my assistant. She has come with me on a number of occasions to the prison in Colorado and has always conducted herself in a professional manner. Until today." And he raised his eyebrows at her.

Bridget rightfully looked contrite

"I already apologized for that." She defended herself. "But you are right, that was not professional." Then she looked over at her friend again. "But is that normal? Is that standard procedure for the guards to treat you like that?"

Again Heyes opened his mouth to answer, and again Steven cut him off.

"It is a prison, darling…."

Heyes' eyebrows went up at the use of that endearment. He just hadn't expected it.

"….not a church social. Many of the prisoners here are very violent people. And that reminds me…" Steven turned his attention back to his client. "…the Warden stated that you caused a riot. What was that all about?"

Heyes started to answer but was again cut off before he could get a word in edgewise.

"Oh Heyes!" Clem admonished him. "Can't you be anywhere without needing to be in control? What….did one of the other inmates try to tell you the 'proper' way to crack a safe or something?"

Heyes clenched his jaw and would have crossed his arms if he had been able to. Then he sighed in frustration and went into a sulk. The other three people in the room sat silently, waiting for him to respond.

"Oh!" He finally sniped. "I'm expected to speak now am I?"

"Joshua…"

Clementine sent an accusing look over to him. "Well I can certainly see that prison hasn't done anything to sweeten your temperament." She commented. "Still snarky as an old bear."

"Steven's my lawyer, Bridget is his assistant. What's your excuse?" Heyes shot at her.

"Well for one thing, I wanted to see you although now that I'm here and you're being so sulky I'm wondering; what was the point?" Then Clem took on an air of self-importance. "But that aside, I'm also Bridget's chaperon. Whenever Steven and Bridget need to go on a business trip, I come along to make sure that no hanky-panky takes place."

Heyes snorted derisively.

"HEY!" Clem was quite indignant.

"She is right Mr. Heyes." Steven confirmed. "That was a condition that Mr. Jordan insisted on for Bridget to come and work for me. She was to have a chaperon with her. It's mainly so she could have a friend with her this being her first time away from home, but it is also the proper thing to do."

"Obviously Jesse doesn't know Clem very well."

"HEY!" Clem reiterated. "My, but you are in a snarky mood today!"

"Ahhh, perhaps we should get on with the business at hand." Steven suggested. "It's not like we have all afternoon."

"Fine." Clem agreed, though still a little indignantly.

"Fine." Heyes also agreed, grumbling.

"I actually was able to get in to see Judge Parsons and speak with him about the possibility of an appeal." Steven explained. "He wasn't terribly accommodating but he did say that if you were willing to change your stance and name the other people involved in that fraud then he might consider reducing your sentence."

Heyes looked over at Clem, almost feeling like it would serve her right if he did. She and Bridget should not have come to come to this place.

"What does Miss Hale say about that?" He asked, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Heyes, you know I already said that I would come forward with that." Clem reminded him. "I told Steven and the Kid both that I would do that but nobody would let me!"

"And the Judge doesn't want it from her." Steven clarified. "He wants to hear it from you."

"Ahhh!" Heyes nodded with a sardonic smile. "Wants me to admit that prison broke me, is that it? Wants me to come crawling back to him to apologize for showing contempt of his court? That I've learned my lesson—that I'll tell him anything he wants to know!"

Steven sighed, knowing that this wasn't going well. "Something like that, yes." He admitted.

"But Joshua." Bridget was almost pleading. "Don't you want out of here? Clem has agreed to it, and Steven doesn't believe that the Judge would send her to prison, especially when she explains the circumstances."

"It's not just Clem, sweetheart." Heyes told Bridget, his anger at her beginning to abate. "The other person involved probably would be sent to prison, and I just can't do that to him."

"But we miss you so much." Bridget pushed. "We all want you to come home."

Heyes could almost feel his heart break in two. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

"I want to come home too." He admitted. Even to himself, his voice sounded a little choked. He cleared his throat again and then not being able to look into Bridget's misting brown eyes, he turned his attention back to Steven. "You said that Judge Parsons would consider reducing my sentence." Steven nodded. "By how much?"

"He said that he would be willing to consider ten years." The lawyer answered quietly.

Heyes closed his eyes and groaned. Then he looked at Granger again, shaking his head.

"He wants me to turn in my friends just to shave off ten years of my sentence?"

"It would still be cut in half, Mr. Heyes." Steven tried to be positive about it. "I know that looking at it from this end, it doesn't seem worth it, but I'm sure that in ten years time you'd be happy for the reduction."

"Mr. Granger." Heyes explained. "One way or another, in ten years time I don't intend to still be in this prison."

This statement was met with three sets of shocked eyes, staring at him.

"Oh Heyes! Don't talk like that!"

"But Joshua…"

"What do you mean by that comment Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes was silent for a moment, looking down at his shackled hands.

"Just that, Mr. Granger." He finally said. Then he looked over at his lawyer. "I'm sorry, but I won't betray my friends to this hell hole in order to reduce my own sentence." Then he shook his head and reiterated. "I simply won't do it."

"What did he mean by that comment?" Bridget asked as the threesome made their way out of the prison and over to their waiting surrey. "Surely he ment that he was confident that we would have him out of here by then, right?"

Steven and Clem exchanged quick glances.

"Oh I'm sure that's what he ment." Clem insisted. "Heyes has always been so melodramatic. Don't you worry about him; he's a survivor."

"I don't know." Bridget was pondering the different possible intentions of her friend's words. "It didn't really sound like he was feeling very positive."

The three people stepped up into the surrey with Steven giving a gentlemanly hand to the ladies. Then he stepped aboard himself, picked up the reins and clucked to the pacer to move them along. Everyone was quiet, busy with their own thoughts and concerns. Finally Bridget sighed and looked up from her musings.

"Well, either way, we're going to have to tell Thaddeus about this." She stated. "Maybe he'll have a better idea of what Joshua's intent was."

"Ahhh, we can't really do that Bridget." Steven reminded her.

"Why not?" Bridget queried. "Thaddeus is his partner; he has a right to know what is going on."

"Bridget, you know that anything said in a private consultation is privileged communication and considered confidential." Steven emphasized. "You cannot tell anyone what was discussed in there." In the back seat of the surrey Clem opened her mouth to speak. "And that goes for you too Clementine."

Both ladies pouted. Clem pursed her lips wondering how he had even known that she had been about to protest!

"Surely Joshua wouldn't mind if I told Thaddeus what he said." Bridget continued with her case. "They are partners, cousins, best friends…."

"And if Mr. Heyes wants his cousin to know about what we discussed then Mr. Heyes can tell him himself." Steven insisted. "We cannot."

"But Steven…"

"Bridget, you knew this beforehand!" Steven reminded her. "Confidentiality is one of the most important conditions of our profession. You better decide early on what matters to you. If you can't keep a secret then working in a law office may not be for you."

Bridget was stunned into silence. An icy dread encircled her heart as she feared she may have disappointed her suitor. Being away from home and actually working in a law office brought with it a whole lot more responsibility than she had ever imagined, but she loved her job and she loved her man and didn't want to lose either one of them.

"You're right Steven, I'm sorry." She finally said, and then she sighed feeling disappointed in herself. "And that's the second time today that I've had to apologize for being unprofessional."

Steven smiled. "That's alright." He assured her. "You're still just learning the ropes and I know it was a shock for you to see your friend like that."

"I didn't think it would be." Bridget admitted quietly. "I saw those inmates at the Colorado prison so I thought I had prepared myself for what to expect. But I suppose seeing someone you know and care about being in that situation—and being treated like that!" She added with a bit of heat. "There was no reason at all for that guard to be so rough with Joshua; he wasn't going to do anything!"

"I know." Steven sympathized. "He's your friend and you care about him and you know that he would never do anything to hurt you."

"That's right."

"But I also know that Mr. Heyes has proven to be a difficult and unpredictable inmate." Steven continued. "And as far as those guards are concerned, he has been violent in the past and is considered 'dangerous'. That guard was well within his rights and he was only doing it to protect you."

"Well, perhaps the guard did feel that he was only doing his job." Bridget argued. "But to say that Joshua is dangerous—that's just nonsense!"

"But he is." Came Clem's voice from the back seat. "At least, he can be."

Bridget swung around on her friend with an indignant and accusatory tone.

"How can you say that?!" She demanded, feeling betrayed. "You've known him longer than either of us!"

"Exactly!" Clem pointed out. "I've known Heyes and the Kid for well over twenty years. They're loyal, loving, considerate, compassionate not to mention, just plain, well—passionate!" And a knowing devilish smile flitted across her features that might have caused Bridget some concern if she had seen it. "But they are also lazy, self-centered, arrogant, manipulative; especially Heyes, and if the need arises—dangerous. Taking in to consideration the situation that Heyes is finding himself in now, I can see why the guards might consider him to be unpredictable and warranting of extra caution. He never did give in to authority easily." Clem sighed then, sadly watching the scenery rolling by on their way into the town of Laramie.

"Poor Heyes." She murmured more to herself than to the two people up front. "He never could stand being cooped up either. This must be killing him."

Bridget and Steven exchanged quiet glances.

The rest of the ride in to town and to the hotel was concluded in silence.

Later that same afternoon Heyes found himself being escorted over to the Warden's office again for their monthly discussion. It was becoming more and more difficult to come up with tidbits of information that would keep the Warden happy and himself safe from inmate retribution. As it turned out, Heyes needn't have worried about that end of their agreement this time because Warden Mitchell conveniently provided him with something else to worry about instead.

"You do realize that Dr. Morin is an alcoholic don't you?"

"He is?" Heyes asked innocently. "No sir Warden, I wasn't aware of that."

"Oh come now." Mitchell chided him. "You're over there working with him every week. Do you mean to say you have never noticed anything unprofessional in his habits?"

"No sir Warden." Heyes lied. "He's a fine doctor."

"I'm not disputing that." Mitchell conceded. "When he's sober. But that's not the point. If he is drinking while on duty then he's a danger to his patients, and we can't have that. Have you ever noticed him taking a drink while on duty?"

"No sir Warden." Heyes lied again without missing a beat.

"Well, that surprises me." Mitchell continued. "Still, he's probably just hiding it from you. So, I want you to take a look around his office and the infirmary just to see if you can find any evidence of him drinking."

"Like what, sir?"

Mitchell was beginning to wonder if Heyes was actually as smart as his reputation suggested.

"A bottle of alcohol would be a good start." The Warden pointed out. "Empty shot glasses would be another indication. Alcohol on his breath. How about that? Do you think you could manage to take note of anything like that?"

Heyes shifted uncomfortably. "I donno Warden." He mumbled. "I would think that stuff like a bottle and glasses would be kept locked up—especially if he knows he's not suppose to be drinking."

Mitchell sighed in exasperation. "I am well aware of your talents Mr. Heyes. I'm sure you would have no difficulty getting passed any locks he might have on his cabinets."

"Well….I'd need special tools…."

"It's an infirmary!" Mitchell was loosing his temper. "It's filled with special tools!"

"Oh. Yes sir. Hadn't thought of that."

"Tell me Mr. Heyes, how is it that you were able to avoid capture for so many years?"

Heyes sent him a vacant look. "Luck?"

Mitchell rolled his eyes. "That'll be all Mr. Heyes. Just let me know if you find anything."

"Yes sir Warden."

Then Murrey escorted the inmate back out of the office.

Mitchell sat back in his chair shaking his head. Geesh…how disappointing. The outlaw had seemed to be very intelligent upon his arrival at the prison but now apparently that façade was beginning to crack. But then the Warden became reflective as another possibility occurred to him; obviously something here was a façade, but which was it? Was Hannibal Heyes a fool and just putting on airs of intelligence, or a smart man pretending to be dumb? Yeah, dumb like a fox. Only a real fool wouldn't know the answer to that one.

The Warden smiled to himself. If Heyes wanted to play games, Mitchell could go along with that—for now. Give it some time and then we'll see; who's the cat and who's the mouse.

Heyes had been deep in thought during his escorted walk back into the prison proper. This new situation was not good. He was not only being asked to spy on one of the few friends he had in this place, but the Warden was also telling him to 'break and enter'. That was something that Mitchell had initially assured him he would not be expected to do. Just keep your eyes open; 'it's not like I'm asking you to sneak into their cells and rummage through their belongings.' Hmmm.

Well it seems the rules had been changed. What a surprise.

The next time Heyes found himself back in the infirmary he already knew what he was going to do. It had been a no-brainer really. He wasn't about to turn in the Doc.

"Hey Doc." Heyes got his attention once they had some time to themselves. "You still got that bottle of whiskey stashed away somewhere?"

"Sure." He admitted. "Why? Ya' want a drink?"

"NO!" Heyes cringed a little and then lowered his voice. "No Doc, that's not it."

"Well what's the problem then?"

"It's the Warden." Heyes explained. "He knows you've been drinkin' on the job and he's just itchin' to catch ya' at it so he can fire you."

Morin creased his brow and looked a little ticked.

"Well how would you know that?" He demanded.

"Cause Mitchell asked me to spy on ya' Doc." Heyes admitted. "To look around and see if I could find any evidence—even to break into your cabinets if I needed to."

Now Morin was really ticked.

"That fxxxing son of a whxxe!" Morin swore. "Who the fxxk does he think he is? It's bad enough having to work in this fxxxing sxxt-hole of a place without that little pxxxk poking his fxxxing nose into my business! I oughta' take that whiskey bottle and shove it up his xxx!"

Heyes couldn't help but smile at the torrent of profanities that flowed from the good doctor's mouth, and he waited quietly until Morin stopped to come up for air.

"He knows who he is Doc." Heyes pointed out. "And he is out to get ya'. If he gets evidence that you're drinking on the job you will be out of a job."

"Sxxt!" Morin expostulated. "As much as I bxxxh about working here I'd be in real trouble if I lost this job."

"Well yeah, that's what I figured." Heyes admitted. "And that's why I'm tellin' ya'. You gotta get rid of that stuff Doc, get it outa here."

"Why?" He asked. "You're not planning on snitchin' on me are ya'?"

"NO! Of course not!" Heyes was indignant. "But if Mitchell asked me to spy on ya' what's to stop him from askin' somebody else to do the same. Somebody who don't care about what happens to ya'?"

"Hmmmm." Came the familiar response. "Ya' got a point."

"Yeah. So like I say; ya' gotta get that stuff outa here—tonight, if possible. Okay?"

"SXXT!" Morin let out one last obscenity, and then sighed with acceptance. "Yeah, you're right. I will." Then he gave Heyes a pat on the shoulder. "You're a good man Heyes, a good friend. I won't forget this."

Heyes' dimples made a rare appearance. "Gee, thanks Doc."

The 4th of July found Steven, Bridget and Clementine coming out to the Double J for the long weekend to enjoy the festivities with family and friends. When the Sunday morning rolled around everyone pooled their resources in order to get the necessary chores done and then a number of horses were either saddle up or hitched to surreys and the whole gang headed into town for 11:00 a.m. services.

The whole town was alive with festivities and the population seemed to have doubled in size with everyone from within miles coming to join in. 12:45 found our group of celebrants casually walking along the boardwalk taking in the sights and sounds of the town done up for a party. Of course there was the inevitable town band making it's noisy way along the main street and there were banners and flags flying and not to mention a whole sky full of Karma-Lou's nemesis; BALOONS. Everyone was in a festive spirit, but also thinking as a whole about the possibility of nourishment.

Taking the lead, Belle and Jesse were keeping the pace slow since they had little Jay with them and he was insisting on doing his share of the walking along with everyone else. He still wasn't quite able to manage this feat on his own and clung on to a hand belonging to each parent and doing his very best to put one foot in front of the other. As stated, this was a slow process, but no one seemed to mind and Jed especially got a kick out of watching the little fella having the time of his life.

Jed, as suggested was second in line with a lovely lady on each arm. Clem, on his left was chattering away as usual, commenting on everything from that extremely revealing line on that dress that so-n-so was wearing to what an interesting aroma that was coming from the sweets shop. Beth, on Jed's right arm was quiet, but smiling with the enjoyment of the day and watching the antics of her younger brother. Sometimes competing with Clem when she got on a roll just wasn't worth the effort.

Behind them came Steven with Bridget on his arm. They were quite content to keep the pace slow as it gave them all the more time together without having to interact with anyone else. They casually laughed and flirted and chatted about everything and anything that caught their attention, lost in a world of their own that only two young people in love can create.

Eventually the group did make it to the town center where many tables were set up for families to sit and sample the culinary delights of various different venders in the area. Jesse scooped Jay up in his arms and walked on ahead to find a table that would accommodate their lot. Very soon they found one that would do and both father and son started waving at the others to get their attention.

They had all just settled down with various lunches when they were joined by one more acquaintance.

"David!" Jesse greeted him. "Come on and join us!"

"Actually that was my intention." David admitted with a smile of greeting to everyone present.

Room was made at the table and David slid in to sit between Belle and Beth and prepared to tuck in to lunch.

"Where is Tricia?" Belle asked him. "Will she be joining us?"

"No, I don't think so." David answered. "She's not feeling well and just wanted to stay home and drink tea."

"Oh." Belle commiserated. "Nothing serious I hope?"

"No, no." David assured her. "Just a summer cold I think. But she wanted me to leave her alone and kicked me out of the house. She says I'm a pest—can you believe that?"

Both Jed and Jesse snorted.

David smiled but did his best to ignore their opinion.

"How is everyone on this fine 4th of July?" He asked around the table. "Any great plans for the rest of the day?"

"No, I don't think so." Jesse answered him. "I think after lunch the ladies want to take in the flower show and the baking competition. As for us gentlemen—well, I do believe Ned has brought in samples of his fine beers and there is also a shooting competition. You might be interested in that Jed."

Jed shrugged. "Yeah, maybe." He answered. "The problem with shooting competitions is that I always figure I could do better. Used to be dangerous for me to enter them 'cause it would bring unwanted attention. Now, I might just end up embarrassing myself."

"I don't know about that." Beth commented. "I've been watching you practice and you've improved a lot over the last few months."

Jed smiled. "Well thank you Beth." He responded. "But I'm still a long way from top form."

"How is your shoulder coming along?" David asked. "You been keeping up with the stretches and stuff?"

"Yes David." Jed assured him with a long-suffering roll of his eyes.

David laughed. "Yes okay! Onwards! Let's have some fun."

As the afternoon progressed the group just naturally split up into sections and went their own ways. The four gentlemen, as suggested, went off to sample some beer etc. Belle with Jay in tow joined a number of her friends to view the vibrant floral arrangements and sample some fine baked goods—and of course to gossip. The three younger ladies went off to window shop and to indulge in their own version of gossiping.

The three friends eventually ended up at the soda shop, and with some sweet treats in hand found themselves a lovely private little table outside where they could sit and chat without too much concern of eavesdroppers.

"How was he?" Beth asked, full of concern. "Is it really as bad as Thaddeus insists?"

"Yes." Bridget answered. "It was worse. It was heartbreaking. I thought I was prepared to see him like that, but it was such a shock! And then that guard being so abusive!"

"Abusive?" Beth repeated in a quiet voice, her face paling. "But Joshua has always been such a kind man—why would they treat him badly?"

Clementine rolled her eyes. "You girls really do need to grow up." She commented.

Both young ladies sent defensive looks over to their older 'friend'.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Beth demanded.

"There you go again!" Bridget accused her. "Condoning the treatment that Joshua has been receiving! How can you say that it's alright?! That he deserves it?!"

"I'm not saying that!" Clem defended herself. "I'm just saying that you have to harden your hearts if you want to be of any use to Heyes. You have to get over this naivety about prison life and about how 'it's not right!' and 'how dare they treat him like that!' etc. etc. One thing you girls really need to understand is that Hannibal Heyes is NOT Joshua Smith. Heyes was the most successful ever leader of The Devil's Hole gang and you don't get to that status by being 'the nice guy'!"

Both girls were looking at her now, their eyes wide and shining. Neither of them wanted to hear what Clem was saying and yet they were hopelessly fascinated by it as well.

"Heyes was an outlaw. He was a con man, a card sharp and a thief!" Clem continued. "And those guards know exactly who Heyes was, and is—better than you do! They are not going to take anything for granted when it comes to dealing with him. Heyes can be a handful, and that's for sure!"

Then Clem, seeing the frightened, yet totally enthralled faces looking back at her, softened her stance and smiled warmly in memory. "And yet he is one of the most generous and kindest men I have ever known—Kid too." Big sigh. "They really are ones to set a young lady's heart to fluttering." Beth and Bridget both smiled appreciatively.

"So." Clem continued with a more business-like air. "If we are going to help Heyes, then you two have got to toughen up! You have to stop crying over 'what is' so that we can start deciding what exactly to do about it. Goodness knows we've left it in the hands of the men for long enough."

The two sisters nodded agreement, their expressions changed to ones of hardened determination.

"I have to get in to see him." Beth insisted. "I need to see for myself what we are going to be up against."

"Well yes, of course! But how to get you in there." Clem agreed speculatively. "I don't think your parents would approve."

"No!" Beth agreed.

"That's for sure!" Bridget seconded. "And Joshua won't be pleased about it either. He was quite angry with me for coming to see him!"

"Why?" Beth asked. "I thought he would be pleased to see you."

"Stubborn male pride." Clem chimed in. Then seeing the confused expressions coming back at her, tried to explain the male ego. "He knows he's at a disadvantage. He also knows that you two look up to him, maybe even admire him." Two enthusiastic heads nod vigorously. "So put yourself in his shoes. He's been subjugated—knocked down to the lowest level of humanity, his pride and his confidence beaten out of him. He's ashamed and embarrassed. Do you really think he would want you to see him like that?"

The sisters sat quietly for a moment, digesting what Clem had said and then nodding in acquiescence; of course Joshua would find that difficult. Actually now that Clem had explained it to them, they reprimanded themselves for not having realized it before.

"I guess that's why Thaddeus refused to take me to see him." Beth commented reflectively. Then she gave a determined sigh. "But I still want to go. I need to see for myself how he is and what conditions he's living in!"

"Neither of us is arguing that point." Clem assured her. "But we still have to find a way to get you there—without your folks or Kid knowing what you're doing."

Beth thought about it for a moment. "Thaddeus mentioned a Catholic Sister who has access to the prison." She informed the others. "Apparently she knows both Joshua and Thaddeus and has helped to care for Joshua when he gets sick or injured."

The other two ladies sat and looked at her, waiting for her to explain how this just might be helpful.

"Well, perhaps if I could get in touch with this Sister and explain what we want to do, maybe she would take me in." Beth suggested.

"Ohm, that's debatable." Clem commented. "And besides, you would still have to find a way to get there."

"You could always tell Momma and Papa that you're coming to stay with us for a week or so—just for a visit." Bridget suggested. "Steven and I are already planning to come here for Christmas, so if you were to come visit us for Thanksgiving, that wouldn't be suspicious."

"Yeah." Beth commented uncertainly. "But then, what happens when Momma and Papa ask Steven about my visit?"

"You can actually come for a visit." Bridget explained. "Where you go after that is your business."

Clem was looking very skeptical. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I would be in if Steven and your folks found out I was helping you with this? I'm supposed to be your chaperon! I'm supposed to make sure you stay out of trouble!"

Both girls looked back at her with their big brown eyes, imploring her solicitousness.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Clem declared. "I don't know how I get roped in to these things! I swear!"

Then all three ladies very nearly jumped out of their chairs when someone, probably the local male child population set off a string of fire crackers that split the air. Suddenly the street was even more active than intended with horses rearing and trying to head for the hills, and people running in circles trying to control the horses and catch the culprits! The fireworks were for later that evening after all! Not in the middle of a family filled festive afternoon.

Meanwhile, Belle with Jay in tow had sat down at an outside table with her own group of friends. All four ladies had tea and pastries to attend to and with Jay settling in for an afternoon nap on his mother's lap they all looked forward to some time to chat.

"That was certainly a lovely wedding wasn't it?" Mable commented while sipping her tea. "Maribelle looked so pleased and Sam was very handsome."

"Yes." Belle agreed. "They seem well suited. And Sam is certainly a hard working young man. He should do well for himself."

"Yes, but what a shame about he and Bridget." Suzie piped in. "You must have been quite disappointed when that all fell apart."

"Oh good gracious no." Belle contradicted her. "Not that Sam isn't a fine young man, but I knew Bridget wasn't too serious about him. She was just flirting, you know. The way young ladies do."

"Ohhh yes!" Her three friends all nodded knowingly.

"She was very hurt at first by what happened." Belle admitted. "But I think it was more wounded pride than a broken heart."

"And my! But she's found herself quite a beau now!" Millicent exclaimed. "Being courted by that handsome young lawyer! A young lady couldn't ask for anyone better."

Belle smiled. "Yes." She agreed. "Mr. Granger is indeed a fine young man."

"And what of Beth?" Asked Suzie. "She's done with school now and is of an age to be thinking about marriage. As you know my Lucille is already betrothed to young Mr. Thomas and they plan to be wed over the holidays."

"Yes, we know Suzie dear." Chimed in Millicent. "And we're all sure that Lucy and Theodore will be quite happy together. They've know each other since they could crawl for goodness sakes!" Then Millie looked over to Belle again. "But what of Beth? She's such a pretty little thing—have you no one in mind for her? Don't want to wait forever you know or all the good ones will be snatched up!"

"I think Beth is making up her own mind about that." Belle answered. "I believe she has decided to hold out until the right one comes around."

"Oh, such childish nonsense!" Quipped Millicent. "The right one! She should set her sights on an eligible young man and go for it—otherwise she'll be left an old maid. Surely there must be some young men in the county whom you would consider 'acceptable'! What about Michael out at the Twin Star ranch, or Philip right here in town?"

"I do believe that Philip is already taken Millie dear." Suzie informed her. "He and Sharon Wilson are probably going to be wed very soon."

"That was quick!" Millicent responded with wide eyes. "Why they just barely started to notice one another!"

"Apparently they did a lot of noticing when no one else was noticing!" Suzie continued with a knowing air. "It seems they 'have to' get married—if you catch my drift. And soon too!"

"Ohhhh!"

Belle smiled. "Well these things do happen don't they?"

"Ummm hmmm."

All the ladies smiled and took more tea.

"Might I mention my own boy, Charlie?" Mable took up the topic again. "He's a fine young man and is still quite available!"

"Yes, yes ladies! I know." Belle smiled. "But Jesse and I believe in allowing our girls to make their own decisions when it comes to choosing a husband. Unless, of course we had a very strong aversion to the young man in question! But we can hardly complain about Mr. Granger and I'm sure that Beth will make just as wise a choice."

"Oh I don't know about that." Suzie commented dubiously. "The way Beth hovers around that Mr. Curry. Tch tch!" Then she smiled with a slightly dreamy look to her own eyes. "Still, I can certainly understand the attraction; he is a very handsome man. I can certainly understand how a young, inexperienced maiden could be smitten by him. Considering who he is and all." Then she became serious and shook her head knowingly. "But hardly a wise choice, given his—background."

"Well, who's to say?" Belle responded with a small smile. "We are all very fond of Thaddeus. He's gone through a very difficult time but he seems to be coming out the other end of it now and he is proving himself to be quite worthy. If he and Beth decide that is what they want, we would not have a problem with it."

This declaration was met by three buxomly gasps from around the table.

"Surely you don't mean that?!"

"He's an outlaw and a gunslinger!"

"He has no prospects! What could he offer her?!"

"Well now he was an outlaw." Belle corrected them. "He has turned his back on that lifestyle, of that I have no doubt. As for him having no prospects, I don't believe that's true. Thaddeus has a lot to offer a young lady. He is a very intelligent and resourceful young man. I'm sure that once he finds his footing, he'll find his nitch."

"Well from what I hear." Stated Mable. "All Mr. Curry cares about now is getting that partner of his out of prison! Just where do his loyalties lie? If he has turned his back on that life as you say, then shouldn't he be thinking more about his own future rather than wasting his time on some convict? Since only Mr. Curry was given a pardon then it would appear obvious that Mr. Heyes was the true scoundrel and was sent to prison for a reason! I would think that Mr. Curry would be wise to sever all ties to that swindler and get on with his own life!"

This statement was met with some vigorous head nodding and murmurs of approval from the other ladies present.

"Oh ladies! Please!" Belle was adamant. "What happened to poor Joshua was the biggest parody of true justice as I have ever seen. It's all politics! Governor Warren crucified one in order to justify giving to the other what had been promised to both! My opinion of Thaddeus would be poor indeed if he were to turn his back on his friend now simply in order to 'get on' with his own life. It would be poor indeed."

"Well, if that's what actually happened, then I suppose…." Mable quickly tried to back step.

"Still, that could take years." Millicent stepped in. "Just how long would Beth be willing to wait?"

"And is it worth it?" Suzie added her opinion. "How do you know that Mr. Curry is even interested in…..?"

Then all four ladies nearly jumped out of their seats as the festivities were loudly interrupted by the explosion of fire crackers renting the air! Jay was startled out of his comforting nap and started to cry.

Again, meanwhile the four gentlemen of the party were gradually making their way to the saloon where they knew some fine home brewed beers were waiting to be tasted and then voted on. Jed could hear the fast draw contest in full swing down one of the nearby side allies but had decided discreetly not to join in. He was with friends now and he would enjoy the day as a family group.

They were all just stepping up onto the boardwalk in front of the saloon when quite unexpectedly Jed walked very much accidentally into one of the local young ladies who just happened to be passing by on her way to the soda shop. Jed stepped back and smiled down at the pretty brunette and tipped his hat in apology.

"Oh, excuse me ma'am, ah, Miss Baird isn't it?" He asked.

"Why yes Mr. Curry." She smiled sweetly up at him. "How kind of you to remember my name."

"Well it's easy to remember the name of such a pretty young lady." He commented casually.

Miss Baird smiled even more sweetly. "Why, thank you Mr. Curry. Will we be seeing you at the fireworks later this evening?"

"I do expect to be there, yes ma'am."

"Lovely! I'll look forward to seeing you then." She flirted back at him, and then she moved on with a very sweet and smoldering brown eyed look back at him.

Jed settled his hat back on his head and watched the enticing young thing walking away from him to join her friends over at the soda shop. Then he looked around towards the saloon to find his three friends smiling at him.

"Oh, don't even start!" He warned them. "That was just a…"

"An encounter?" Finished David.

"Yeah. NO!" Jed floundered. "That was nothin'!"

"Yes, of course it was nothing." David teased him.

"Better not tell Beth." Steven commented.

"There's nothin' to tell!" Jed was getting flustered.

Finally Jesse took pity on the young man and getting in between him and the other two, he draped a conciliatory arm across his shoulders and headed him into the saloon.

"C'mon Jed." He assured him. "Don't listen to them; they're just jealous because some pretty little lady isn't fluttering her eyes lashes at them."

"There was no fluttering of eye lashes!"

"Uh huh."

Then the four men settled themselves up at the bar and began in earnest to sample some of the fine beers that were being made available. They looked around, hoping to find an empty table that would accommodate all of them, but no such luck. It seemed that the saloon was a very popular place for the numerous husbands of the county and every table was occupied. So the four friends turned back to the bar and continued their conversation leaning there and enjoying their drinks.

"How is business going Steven?" Jesse asked his future son-in-law. "You keeping busy?"

"I'll say!" Steven admitted. "Since I still have my office in Cheyenne running and now the one in Denver, I'm kept very busy!"

"Why are you keeping two offices running?" David asked him.

"I still have open cases in Cheyenne—including Mr. Heyes'." Steven explained. "I didn't feel right about just walking away from them."

"Han's case is still open?" Jesse asked.

"Oh yes!" Steven confirmed. "I'm still trying to set up an appeal, but unfortunately neither party is willing to compromise."

"How do you mean?" Asked David.

"Well, Governor Warren won't even speak with me." Steven explained. "The Judge won't relent on his sentence unless Mr. Heyes is willing to concede and give up the information that he refused to release during his trial which he is still refusing to do. And neither one is willing to negotiate the terms."

This was met by a chorus of frustrated sighs and then everyone looked over at Jed.

"What?" Jed asked them.

"He's your partner." Steven pointed out. "Can't you talk to him?"

"And tell him what?" Jed asked again. "That he should knife two of our friends in the back in order to get out of prison?"

"Actually, it wasn't in exchange for a total pardon." Steven reluctantly revealed. "The Judge said he would be willing to reduce Mr. Heyes' sentence to ten years instead of twenty to life if he surrendered the information."

Curry snorted in disgust. "That'll never happen." He said.

"Yes." Steven admitted. "So Mr. Heyes has already informed me."

This information was met with another chorus of frustrated sighs.

"Well." Began Jed rather intently. "What's the next step? What else can we do?"

There was a moment of silence as everyone considered this question.

"I still say that the best step is to wait and see what happens with Governor Warren." Steven commented. "I doubt that he is going to be in office much longer. Once we get a new Governor in there, well maybe he will be willing to honour the pardon."

"Yeah right." Jed mumbled. "We've been through this before. A new Governor is going to be too concerned about keeping the big budget business men happy to be willing to pardon Hannibal Heyes. I just don't see it happening."

"I know." Steven acknowledged. "I'll keep at it from my end and continue to petition the Judge for an appeal and I know that Bridget is still writing to various newspapers about the promises made and broken. I don't know what else she can do right now."

"Well, Beth is busy doing much the same thing." Jed offered. "Keeping in touch with the individuals who helped out before. Asking them for more letters to the Governor's Office and all that. I don't know. It just seems like everyone is ignoring us now. Nobody wants to think about it anymore."

"What about your friend Mr. McCreedy?" Jesse asked. "Is he still involved?"

"Yeah." Jed answered. "I know he's still putting pressure on Governor Warren, but again he's getting shut out. Big Mac has money and influence, but mostly in Texas! Wyoming doesn't really care. But he is still trying."

"He is still sending me retainers." Steven admitted. "It helps me to keep pushing for an appeal. I just wish there was more we could do."

"What about that other judge, the one you boys knew from before?" Jesse asked Jed.

"Who? You mean Judge Hanley?"

"Yeah." Jesse agreed. "He seemed to be quite supportive of you. Is he still in the picture?"

"I guess." Jed answered. "He's not well these days and I suppose Warren figures that giving me the amnesty sort of makes them even. I don't know if Judge Hanley is really up to continuing the fight." Jed sighed. "Maybe Beth could get hold of him again and see if he can still help out."

Just then the batwing doors of the entrance slammed open and five or six young bucks exploded into the saloon laughing and hooting and slapping one particular young fella on the back.

"Hey! Frank here just up and won the fast draw competition! Beers all around for us!"

"Woo hoo! That was some mighty fine shooten' you fellas missed! Ya' all shoulda been there!"

"Yeah! I ain't never seen nobody faster!"

Jed casually glanced over at the group as they collected up their beers and he met the eyes of the excited young Frank who was all puffed up with his victory. The lock on was only for an instant and then it was broken by the celebratory group heading away from the bar and taking possession of a table that had recently been made available. Jed sighed almost regretfully and then turned his attention back to the conversation.

"Yeah." Steven agreed. "Keeping pressure on the powers that be can't hurt. I still think our best bet is to wait for a new governor to be appointed and go from there."

Jed sighed dejectedly and stared down into his half empty glass of beer. It's all well and good for them to just wait and see, but what about Heyes? He was the one who really had to just hang on and wait and how long would he be able to do that for? All the doors seemed to be getting shut in their faces and nobody was coming up with a feasible 'next step'.

He sighed again and took another swallow of beer. Then his blood went cold in his veins.

"KID CURRY!" Came a yell from behind him. "I'M CALLIN' YOU OUT!"

Jed's three friends all turned as one to look at the young man doing the yelling. It was Frank, the winner of the fast draw competition. He apparently was feeling his oats and with the support of his friends, got to thinking that he was invincible.

Meanwhile, once the instant chill had left the Kid's body, his well honed instincts took over. His heart rate and breathing slowed and a calmness settled on to him as his right hand dropped inconspicuously to rest quietly by the handle of his gun.

"What's he look like?" Jed asked Jesse who was standing the closest to him. "Is he wearing his gun tied down?"

"Yeah." Jesse whispered. "Much like how you wear yours."

"Damn it." Jed sighed regretfully. "Get away from me." He told his friends in a whisper. "And for goodness sakes, don't stand behind me."

"No Jed, you can't be serious." Jesse argued.

"I'm not the one callin' him out Jesse!" Jed responded in a whispered hiss. "And he sounds serious. Move away from me—now!"

"YOU HEAR ME CURRY?!" Frank called out to him again. "Or have you gotten soft since you became all legal?!"

Then everyone in the silenced saloon quietly shuffled away from the two gunmen. The atmosphere inside the establishment had gone from carefree and festive to one of oppressed anticipation as the seriousness of the challenge became apparent. Even Bill, the bartender had snatched up some of the more expensive bottles and had taken cover behind the bar.

Jed sighed one more time, and then he straightened up and turned away from the bar to face his adversary.

"Listen." He said, trying to defuse the situation. "This has been a nice quiet…."

Then Frank made his move and Jed didn't even have time to think about it. His body reacted on pure instinct. The muscles in his right shoulder contracted and like an electric shock running down through his arm and into his hand the nerves and tendons responded instantly. His six shooter exploded with the report and then the wisp of smoke and the smell of gun powder filled the air.

Frank lay writhing on the floor, clutching his right thigh, his own gun having clattered uselessly to the floorboards. There was stunned silence for a heartbeat and then everyone was brought out of their stupor by the sound of firecrackers taking over the scene, followed by horses screaming in fear and people shouting off in the distance to try and get things back under control.

Then everyone in the saloon was talking at once, with the occasional 'Whoop!" and "Did you see that? I ain't never seen anything so fast!" And then David was on the run over to tend to the stricken man and someone else was running for Sheriff Jacobs and Steven was standing there with his mouth open, not so sure that he had seen what he'd just seen.

Jed had returned his six-shooter to its holster and leaned back against the bar looking very disappointed. Jesse put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jeez Jed." He said quietly. "Is that how it happens? So fast—with no real warning?"

"Yup." Jed nodded sadly. "Usually it does."

"Well." Jesse sighed. "At least you know you're still fast."

Jed just shook his head. "No." He said. "I'm way off. If that had been Danny Bilson I'd be dead right now. And I was aiming for his holster, not his leg. I didn't want to actually hit him."

Jesse and Steven exchanged looks at that admission; it had seemed plenty fast to them. Then David looked up from his administrations and beckoned to the lawyer.

"Steven, could you run over to my place and get my medical bag?" He asked. "I need to get this bleeding stopped then we can move him to my surgery and I'll patch him up over there."

"Oh, sure." Steven agreed. "I'll be right back."

Then Jesse gave Jed another pat on the back. "Com'on Jed." He said. "Let me buy ya' a shot of whiskey. You're shaking."

The two men turned back to face the bar just as Bill came up with a bottle of the good stuff and three glasses.

"No fellas, it's on me!" He offered as he started to pour. "And I'll join ya'. That has got ta' be the dangest thing I ever seen! Talk about a 4th of July! Whooeee!"

The three men downed their whiskey just as Sheriff Jacobs entered the building. He did one quick look around and then headed over to speak with David first and get the prognoses of the young man bleeding on the floor.

"No, it's not bad Sheriff." David told him. "I'll get some padding onto it and then get him over to my office. He'll be limping, but he'll be walking tomorrow."

"Good." Jacobs nodded. "Did you see what happened?"

"Yes, I did."

"Good." Jacobs said again. "When you're done with him come over to my office and give me your version."

David nodded and then went back to trying to soothe the whimpering contest winner. Jacobs looked over at the bar, sighed and shook his head. Always something on the 4th of July. He started over towards the bar, practically having to push eager witnesses out of his way. All of a sudden everybody wanted to offer up their version of what happened.

"I saw everything Sheriff! It was absolutely amazing!"

"You're not gonna believe it Sheriff! What a gunfight—I ain't never gonna forget this!

"Hey Sheriff! I'll be happy to tell ya' what happened! I had a real clear view of the whole thing!"

Jacobs nodded politely to all the townsfolk who were so eager to be of assistance, but he still steadily made his way over to the bar and to the man he really wanted to have a conversation with.

"Mr. Curry." He greeted the gunman.

"Sheriff."

"Howdy Jesse."

"Hey Carl."

So with the pleasantries dispensed with the Sheriff turned his attention back to Jed.

"You want to tell me what happened here?"

Jed sighed; this was never going to get any easier.

"We were just having a drink at the bar when that young fella called me out." Jed explained. "I tried to calm him down, to talk him out of it but he went for his gun and I just reacted. I'm sorry; I tried not to hit him but I guess I'm still not as accurate as I used to be."

"Uh huh." Jacobs sounded skeptical. "No reason for it? He just decided outa the blue to call you out?"

"That's right Sheriff." Jed reiterated. "I guess he was feelin' punchy, having won that fast draw contest and I suppose he'd already had a few beers before comin' here and then he saw me at the bar the figured he'd make a show of it. I guess he found out the hard way that shootin' at a spinning plate ain't quite the same as shootin' at someone who could shoot back."

"Uh huh." Jacobs nodded. "Is that pretty much how you saw it Jesse?"

"Yes." Jesse agreed. "That young fella started it. Jed did try to talk him down but it just wasn't gonna happen."

Jacobs let go a big sigh and all three men looked over to where David was helping Frank up to his feet and a couple of Frank's friends were each getting under an arm to help escort him over to the Doctor's office. David sent a quick smile over to the three men at the bar and then a look of concern flashed across his face when he noticed Jed supporting his right arm with a thumb hooked into his belt. Then he was gone, tending to the more immediate need but making a mental note all the same.

Steven came over to re-join his friends at the bar. He gladly accepted a welcoming shot of whiskey himself.

"How about you Mr. Granger?" Jacobs asked him. "You agree; that young man started the whole thing?"

"Oh yes Sheriff." Steven backed up the story. "There's no doubt about it." Then he smiled. "And if you have any intentions of arresting Mr. Curry here, well I'll be quite happy to defend him—free of charge!"

Curry sent him a look, like; why did you have to bring that up? But Jacobs laughed and then shook his head.

"Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary." He assured the group. "On the contrary, I believe I will ask the good Doctor how much he's going to charge for the medical services and then whatever's left over from that young fella's winnings will conveniently be the amount of his fine for disturbing the peace and inciting a gunfight." Then he tipped his hat to the small group at the bar. "Good afternoon gentlemen. Enjoy the festivities, but please try to stay out of trouble."

"Yes sir Sheriff." Jed answered with a relieved smile.

"See you later Carl." Jesse added.

Jed slumped in relief and then poured himself another shot from the bottle.

"I am never gonna get used to talkin' to a badge." He mumbled into the glass.

Jesse smiled and gave him a pat on the back. "C'mon." He said. "Let's go find the ladies. I'm sure rumours of what happened will be all around the town by now and they'll be worried."

A couple of hours later found the whole group together and seated around another outside table, enjoying supper before the evening got too much further along. David had tended to his patient, gave him painkillers and then sent to sleep away the rest of the evening at his hotel room. Then the good doctor had rejoined the festivities though he was a little disappointed that his wife was still not feeling up to snuff and had again decided to stay home and rest.

"Well, what an exciting afternoon." Belle commented while she tried to help her son get food into his mouth rather than all over his face and hands. "Thank goodness it wasn't too serious."

"Yes." David agreed. "It turned out to just be a graze; painful but hardly life threatening. Hopefully he's learned his lesson."

"Yeah." Jed grumbled. "Unfortunately for every one who learns the lesson, there's five more that still need teachin'."

"Don't you think the majority of them will leave you alone now that you've been pardoned?" Jesse asked him.

"I donno Jesse." Jed admitted. "I hope so. But like I said at my trial 'there's always one who wants the reputation.' And knowin' that my shoulder ain't what it used to be might just make it all the more inviting."

"That's just silly!" Beth exclaimed. "Where's the honour of out shooting a man who's been injured?"

Everyone at the table smiled.

"A woman's logic." Belle commented.

"Well, let's hope you're right Beth." Jed told her. "But in the mean time I'm gonna keep on practicing just in case you're not."

"That reminds me." David piped up. "How is your shoulder feeling after that? I noticed you supporting it in the saloon. Is it still bothering you?"

"No David, it's alright." Jed assured him. "It's just a little stiff. It'll be fine."

"Okay. But if it's still sore tomorrow, come in and I'll work on it for you."

Jed groaned. "David! It'll be fine."

"Oh don't be such a baby!" David threw back at him. "You know it feels better after I've worked on it. I swear; I've never known a grown man to whimper as much as you do!"

Jed glared a look over the table at him, but David met it with an innocent smile—obviously teasing his friend. The young ladies giggled.

Soon all the supper plates were cleared away and everyone was enjoying dessert and one final cup of coffee before evening plans were brought up for discussion.

"I'm sure you young people want to stay for the festivities tonight." Jesse observed. "There's going to be dancing and of course fireworks once it gets dark."

"Yup." Jed agreed. "I believe that's a fair assumption."

The three young ladies were smiling, with sparkles in their eyes in anticipation of a fun night in town.

"Well, that's fine." Jesse continued. "Though I do believe Belle and I will be heading home shortly." Belle nodded a tired but enthusiastic agreement to this statement. "Our young man here needs to get to bed—not to mention the old man! I just ask that when you people do get home tonight that you try to be quiet. Please."

"Of course!"

"Certainly!"

"And you young men." Jesse took on a stern manner, indicating Jed and Steven. "You'll be escorting my girls, so I expect you to behave like gentlemen! You understand me?"

"Of course!"

"Certainly!"

"Good!" Then he and Belle exchanged a look. If Jesse had had any concerns about honourable behavior—or lack there of—his daughters would not be staying in town for the evening. "On that note." He continued. "I believe we will call it a night."

Everyone who stayed in town for the party ended up having a wonderful time. The town center was eventually cleared away to make room for dancing and the local band got itself set up to play and the fun soon began!

It seemed that though our group tended to stick together when it came time to eat or drink or just sit one out, when it came to dancing no one was sticking to just one partner. It wasn't really surprising though, since most of those in attendance were of the same age group and had basically grown up together. But even the new comers were familiar enough faces around town to feel like they belonged and it was one big happy family having fun.

Jed got one scare added on to his day when he left the group to tend to necessity and he spotted two of Frank's friends coming towards him. He felt a twinge of resentment that they might be coming over looking for revenge, but that supposition was soon laid to rest when both young men smiled at him and offered hands for shaking.

"We sure do want to apologize for Frank acting like such an idiot there this afternoon Mr. Curry." One of them started in. "He's not a bad fella, but he can be a bit frisky sometimes, especially when he's had a few ta' drink!"

"Oh, well that's okay fellas." Curry responded, relief washing over him. "No hard feelings."

"Good! Good!" Stated the other. "I must say though, it sure was an honour to see ya' in action. We ain't never gonna forget that!"

"Yeah, that's for sure!" Agreed the first. "It was almost worth Frank getting shot to be able to see that, yes sir!"

"Uh huh."

"And ah…" Started the other, a little more somber this time. "We really want ta' thank ya' for not killin' em. Like we say; he's not a bad fella."

"Yeah, sure." Mumbled the Kid. "No problem."

And then amongst a few more hand shakes and a slap on the back, the men parted company and Jed carried on with his mission hoping he was never going to have to set eyes on those fellas again.

Then, on his way back to his group of friends, one small incident did transpire that was taken quite seriously by some, and shrugged off as irrelevant by others, depending of course on your gender.

As was stated, Jed was returning to his friends when he found himself once again bumping into Miss Baird. Again, he quickly back stepped and apologized. She smiled and batted her lashes.

"Miss Baird!" He said. "I do apologize. I seem to be bumping into you a lot today."

"That's quite alright Mr. Curry." She smiled back. "And please—this is an informal gathering; feel free to call me Isabelle."

"Well thank you—Isabelle." Curry was smiling by this time as well. "My name is Jed."

"Yes I know."

Jed then offered her his arm and they strolled back to the dancing together.

"I certainly heard about that incident this afternoon." Isabelle commented. "How very frightening for you! And how relieved I was to learn that you had not been injured."

"I've gotten pretty good at taking care of myself Isabelle." Jed assured her. "It was hardly worthy of your concern."

"Yes, I'm sure you are quite able to take care of yourself." She flirted back up at him. "You strike me as a very capable man—in more ways than one."

"Ohh hoo, Isabelle." Jed teased her. "I believe you're changing the subject."

"It would seem that you are very astute as well."

At which point any further conversation was cut short by the appearance of Clem and Bridget who were very quick to intervene! Before Isabelle had any notion of the combined intervention being reigned down upon her those two worthy friends had nipped in between the couple and were quickly ushering Jed off to a neutral corner! By the time Isabelle was aware that her quarry had been absconded with and had got her breath back to protest, she was instantly silenced by two sets of dark smoking brown eyes just daring her to try that again!

Jed himself was a little surprised to find the very attractive Isabelle suddenly replaced by his two friends, one on each arm, hustling him off towards their table. As far as he was concerned, he was just being neighbourly.

"Whoa! What's going on!?"

"You don't want to be seen with her!" Bridget explained. "She has a reputation!"

"What? We were just talking!"

"Besides." Clem added. "Beth wants this next dance with you!"

"She does?" He asked. "Why didn't she just say so?"

"Well she's just shy." Clem explained. "Go on! Get over there and ask her for the next dance!"

Then Clem and Bridget, each with a hand pressed against the small of his back gave him a push towards the main focus of their discussion. Jed very nearly tripped over one of the chairs that was scattered about, but caught himself just in time and came up face to face with a smiling Beth.

"Beth." Jed addressed her politely. "Would you honour me with this dance?"

Beth beamed up at him, smiling broadly. "Of course Thaddeus! I'd love to."

Then with a furrow browed look towards the two instigators, Jed offered his arm to Beth and they headed towards the dance area.

Bridget and Clementine rolled their eyes, and shook their heads in astonishment.

"Men!" Clem declared. "Sometimes they can be so obtuse!"

At which point Steven and David offered their arms to the two ladies and everyone except Isabelle joined in to dance the evening away.

The next morning, no one was quick to rise and shine but eventually the household started to stir and coffee was quickly prepared and passed around. Fortunately for everyone, even young Jay wasn't too interested in getting out of bed so it became a very relaxing morning, mostly spent sitting out on the front porch and drinking tea or lemonade.

Then Jed groaned as they all spotted David's surrey making its way down the lane towards the open yard. As usual Buck and Karma came dancing over to the fence to greet the visitors and David's little gelding tossed his head and sent them a nicker. Belle stood up and waved at him as he turned his horse into the hitching post and disembarked.

"David!" She greeted him. "How good to see you. How is Tricia today?"

"Feeling better I think." He answered with a smile. "Just a twenty-four hour thing."

"Good! Would you like some tea, or lemonade?"

"Some lemonade would go down very nicely right now, thank you."

"Fine." Belle answered. "Come on up and have a seat. I'll get you a glass."

"Morning David." Jesse greeted him. "What brings you out this way?"

"Yes, David." Piped in the Kid, suspiciously. "What does bring you out this way?"

David came up onto the porch, stepping over the three stretched out dogs as he headed for the empty chair. So much for being on the alert! Then he sat down between the two men and smiled over at Jed.

"I think you already know what brings me out." He answered. "I decided I wasn't going to wait for you to do the right thing, so I just included you in on my rounds for this morning. You'll thank me later."

"David—I'm fine." Jed scowled, not wanting to mention that he had hardly slept the previous night due to the aching in his shoulder.

"Hmm hum. Oh! Belle, thank you!" David accepted his drink while Belle pulled up another chair and joined them again. "I take it everyone got home alright last night. Quite an event wasn't it?"

"I'll say." Jesse agreed. "I don't think anyone is going to be forgetting this 4th of July for some time to come."

The conversation carried on in this vein for half an hour or so and then David put down his empty glass and started getting to his feet.

"Well Jed, c'mon let's get to this." He said. "Best if we go inside, get you sitting in a straight back chair."

"How about we just don't bother doing it at all?" Jed suggested sourly.

"Nope." David didn't accept that and then headed indoors, totally expecting Jed to follow him.

Jed sighed, but didn't move.

"You best get it over with Jed." Jesse suggested. "You know he won't let up until you do."

"Grrrrr." Jed grumbled but started to push himself to his feet anyways. "My shoulders fine." He mumbled as he headed indoors. "Why does he have to be such a pest?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry."

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

"SHUT UP!"

David stepped back, a little surprised at the level of hostility.

"What's the matter?" He asked his friend. "Why are you in such a snarky mood today?"

Jed sighed and slumped his shoulders.

"I donno, just am." He mumbled.

David moved back in and continued to massage the shoulder.

"Here you go again." He accused him. "You do know why, you just don't feel comfortable talking about it."

"Yeah, fine." Jed agreed, and then grimaced in pain. "David that hurts."

"Yes, I know. So, what is it you don't feel comfortable talking about?"

Jed sighed again. Poke prod, poke prod. Jed just couldn't understand why he liked this man so much.

"ALRIGHT!" Jed finally conceded. "I'm frustrated—okay!?"

"What about?"

"HEYES!" He shouted. "What else?! Here we are, doing everything we can do that's legal—and nothing's happening! And people wonder why we just went outside the law to get what we wanted! Ya' just turn old and gray tryin' ta' do it the right way! All summer long he's been working outside the prison walls! All I gotta do is get some of the boys together from Devil's Hole and go cut him loose! Head down to Mexico or something! But here I sit, waiting for the next new Governor, cause just on the outside chance, he might be agreeable. Well damn 'agreeable'! I should just go get him—to hell with the pardon!"

"Hmmm." Was David's comment as he moved around behind Jed and started to massage both his shoulders. The man was getting tense. "Have you mentioned this to Hannibal?"

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"No." Jed admitted, calming down a bit. The massage was helping. "He'd just get mad at me. He's already told me not to blow my own chances now. Even said that he'd 'understand' if I decided to just forget about him and get on with my own life. Can you believe that? That he would say something like that to me?! Geesh!"

"Well, I guess he's just trying to let you know that you have choices now." David hypothesized. "I can certainly understand him not wanting you to do anything illegal now that you have your pardon. Maybe he sees it as; after all that hard work at least one of you has benefited. If you go and blow it now, well what was it all for then?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "I suppose."

Then a stampede of giggles and skirts came charging in to the front room, being followed by a more sedate Belle. Jed quickly put his shirt back on.

"David." Belle said. "Would you like to stay for lunch?"

David smiled.

That evening the family was all relaxing in various positions between the dinning room table, living room armchairs and the front porch. Belle was comfortable settled into an armchair and was busy knitting various items for the upcoming cooler months. She was a little quiet in her mood at this time as she knew that Bridget along with Clementine and Steven would be heading back to Denver in the morning. She had known that they would not be staying for long but she was still sad to see her daughter going again.

Those same three people were out on the front porch laughing and talking together like the old friends that they were quickly all becoming. Bridget, as is usual for youngsters leaving the nest, was eagerly anticipating getting back to her new life in Denver and had no clue as to how difficult this whole transition had been on her mother. Belle certainly wasn't going to let her know!

Jesse, Jed and Beth were all sitting at the table quietly involved in their own endeavors. Jesse was doing the never-ending paperwork involved in running a business. Jed was busy cleaning his gun—again, something which he did every evening, but much to Belle's relief always after Jay had been put down for the night. Beth was sitting quietly and watching with fascination while her friend dismantled his gun, cleaned every single little piece of it and then put it all back together again without missing a beat. She'd watched him do it night after night and still couldn't keep up.

"Have you asked Joshua what he would like for Christmas Thaddeus?" Belle suddenly asked from her corner.

"Ah, no I haven't." Jed admitted. "But I do seem to recall him saying that a woolen hat would be appreciated."

"A woolen hat?"

"Yeah. They shaved off his hair, remember." Jed reminded her. "His head gets kinda' cold."

"Oh my goodness!" Belle admonished herself. "I had totally forgotten about that!" Then she sighed reflectively. "I suppose it's because I haven't seen him. Whenever I think of him I still see him as he was here, with that lovely thick head of hair. I guess he looks quite different from that now, doesn't he?"

Jed sent a sad look over to her. "Yeah, he does." Then he smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "So, a woolen hat and some mittens if you have the time."

Belle smiled. "Of course I have the time. Joshua takes priority these days. Do you know what you're going to get for him?"

"No. I hadn't really thought about it. I suppose I should—Christmas will be here before we know it." Then he stopped and looked down at the small cleaning tool he was holding in his hand and he turned reflective. "Heyes gave me this cleaning kit for my birthday, I guess about five years ago. I already had one, but some of the tools were missing and I was just kinda' makin' do. I hadn't said nothin' to him about needing a new kit 'cause I knew we didn't really have the money for one. But I guess he saw that I needed it and he found the money somewhere."

Belle sent him a gentle look. "That was very considerate of him."

"Yeah."

"Do they do anything at the prison for Christmas?" Beth suddenly piped up.

"Oh, yeah." Jed answered her, pulling himself out of his reminiscence. "There is actually a woman chaplain there who gives services and lectures on Sundays for the inmates and I believe holds special services for Christmas and Easter."

All three heads looked up from what they were doing at the mention of this rather amazing piece of news.

"Really?" Asked Beth. "A woman chaplain? At a prison?!"

"Yeah, that's what I said too." Jed agreed. "From what Heyes tells me she's very well educated and even has her doctorate."

"Well." Belle commented. "Who would have ever thought? I hope Joshua is getting some enjoyment out of the services and lectures. Someone else of an intellect perhaps, to keep him interested?"

"Yeah—I donno." Jed admitted. "I think lately Heyes has been backing off that stuff. Keeping more to himself, you know."

Belle frowned. "That doesn't sound good." She commented. "Joshua has a very active mind. If there is someone there who is willing to give lectures and spiritual instruction he should take advantage of it."

"Heyes never was very spiritual." Jed pointed out.

"Yes, I know." Belle conceded. "But there's something to be said about the spiritual side of things, especially during hard times. It might make his life now a little easier for him."

Jed sighed. "Well, there is Sister Julia." He mentioned. "We met her a few years back and now she's helping out at the prison sometimes. She seems to have taken Heyes on as her new project."

Belle smiled. Beth perked up at the name of this person of interest.

"Yes, you mentioned her before." She commented. "Didn't the sisters bring gifts for the inmates last year?"

"Yeah." Jed confirmed. "That's right. That's how she found out that Heyes was there."

"Oh. Do the sisters live close by to the prison then?"

Jed became reflective. "Well, there must be a convent close by I would assume. She would live there, with other sisters—I suppose."

"Oh. So she goes to the prison often?"

Jed shrugged as he started putting his gun back together again. "I donno how often. Usually when the doctor there needs help she'll come to act as nurse. I know when Heyes was sick last winter she did a lot to get him through it."

"Yes! That was frightening." Belle remembered the episode. "I certainly hope he doesn't get that sick again."

"Well, he's eating better this year, so hopefully not." Jed assured her and then smiled. "And a nice woolen hat and mittens will certainly help him to stay warmer!"

"We'll just have to make sure he gets them then!" Belle declared.

"So would the convent be in Laramie do you think?" Beth asked, bringing the topic back to her point of interest.

"I don't think so." Jed answered her. "I certainly haven't seen it. But how many convents can there be within a days' wagon ride of the prison? It must be around there somewhere."

"Yes, I'm sure it is." Beth agreed. "The locals probably know exactly where it is."

"Hmmm."

"Well!" Said Belle as she got up from her armchair. "I'm in the mood for an evening cup of tea. Anyone else?"

"That would be nice." Jesse responded.

"Sure." Came Jed's answer.

"Not me Momma." Said Beth as she got up from the table. "I'm still really tired from our late night yesterday. I think I'm just going to go up to my room and read a little while there's still light."

"Oh." Belle was surprised. "Alright Beth." Then she smiled. "I suppose you all did have a rather boisterous evening."

"Yes. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Beth."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Beth made her way up the stairs and into her room which she was now sharing with Bridget and Clem while there was such a full house. She quietly closed the door and went over to her little writing desk and sitting down, took out a piece of clean paper along with her ink jar and pen. She sat for a moment, reflective, wondering just how exactly to word this very sensitive letter. She must have sat for at least ten minutes just staring into space when finally she dipped pen into ink and began to write.

_To; Sister Julia_

_Convent_

_Laramie, Wyoming_

Then she stopped and thought about it some more. It wasn't much of an address but it was all she had. She could only hope that her letter would actually find its way to the proper recipient.

_"Dear Sister Julia…"_

TO BE CONTINUED


	20. Chapter 20

A Year in the Life

Heyes and the Kid sat across from each other in their usual manner, both in their own way trying to ignore the fact that Pearson was standing behind the inmate with a loaded rifle, probably eavesdropping on everything they said. Curry was at a loss; he'd run out of conversation. Heyes wasn't helping; he was in a mood. Stoic, depressed—silent.

"Been a change in the weather." Curry finally commented, falling back on the typical topic that people tend to fall back on when there's nothing else to say. "Starting to feel a chill in the air."

"Hmmm."

"Karma's looking good." Curry continued, and then smiled—albeit forced. "She's startin' to look a little plump if you know what I mean."

"Yeah."

Curry sighed, frustrated. "C'mon Heyes give me somethin' will ya'? The snows are gonna be flyin' soon. I don't know how many more times I'm gonna be able to get here before winter sets in."

"Yeah, I know."

Silence. Even Pearson was beginning to look bored.

"OH!" Curry brightened up as he remembered a piece of good news. "Seems like David and Tricia are expecting—finally! David's walking around with his head in the clouds. He's just tickled pink—if you can say that about a man!"

"Hmmm. Well he is a doctor; he oughta know how it's done."

The smile dropped from Curry's face. "C'mon Heyes. What kinda talk is that?" Kid reprimanded him. "David's one of the good guys—remember?"

It was Heyes' turn to sigh but then he had the good graces to look a little contrite.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry Kid—it's just…."

"What Heyes? What's eaten' at ya'?"

"It's just…." Heyes couldn't look the Kid in the eye. "It's been a year."

The rest of Curry's attempt at pleasantries dropped from his countenance and once again silence fell between them. Heyes looked like he was going to cry—almost. But he didn't and with a subtle cough and a shifting in his chair, he simply stared off into space focusing on something beyond the Kid's left shoulder.

"Yeah, I know Heyes." Curry finally said softly. "I was hopin' that maybe ya' wouldn't realize it—stupid really, thinkin' that you wouldn't realize it. But—I was hopin', that's all."

"Yeah." Then Heyes shifted again and this time brought his eyes down to meet his partners'. "I donno Kid, I guess I just kept thinking that something was going to happen, ya' know? Like it always does. We always seemed to be able to talk or fight or just scam our way out of these things, so I figured something was going to happen. Some miracle. I mean; surly this wasn't it! This wasn't going to be my life from now on! This was just a bad dream and I would get out and we'd look back on it and laugh about what a close call that had been, and how we showed them! You know—the usual."

"Yeah. I know Heyes."

"But now, it's been a year and suddenly it does feel like this is my life from now on." Heyes continued. "That this is it. There is no exit out the back. My life outside of these walls just doesn't exist anymore."

"Heyes, it does exist." Kid insisted. "C'mon, don't give up on that. I know it's taking longer than we thought and doors keep on getting' slammed in our faces but we're not giving up on ya'—you gotta know that!"

Heyes sent his partner a soft smile. "Yeah, I know that Kid." He said and then sighed deeply. "I guess I gotta just dig in and hang on—right?"

Curry didn't answer him. The sarcasm in his tone was subtle but obvious to one who knew him so well.

"Are ya' goin' to services at all Heyes? Or readin' those medical journals? You seemed to be gettin' quite a lot out of those things before."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes agreed. "I just haven't been really interested in that stuff lately." Then he smiled again, a little sadly. "I think I should just leave the doctorin' to David. I don't really have the knack for it."

"Yeah? Well….have you been talkin' to Sister Julia lately?" Kid was grasping at straws. "She's a friend."

Heyes shrugged. "Yeah. One of the other inmates was sick for a while so she was here to help with him, but since then she hasn't been around much. I guess she's been busy with orphans and such, what with Christmas only a couple of months away."

"Well, maybe you could write her a letter, or write David a letter or write somebody a letter! What about Lom?!"

"What about him?"

"Well—write him a letter!"

"I got nothin' to say."

Curry slumped. "Is Kenny working today?"

"Why? Ya' want me to write him a letter?"

"No!" Kid retorted, sending him 'the look'. "It's just that Belle sent some things for ya'. They're actually Christmas presents, but since we didn't want to take the chance of everybody getting snowed in, she asked me to bring them to ya' early. You'll probably be needing them soon anyways."

"Oh." Heyes mumbled. "Yeah, I think he's here today. Just ask for him. You know the drill."

"Yeah Heyes, I do."

Heyes remembered something akin to manners. "I guess you should thank Belle for me. It's good of her to put the effort in."

"She's happy to do it Heyes." Curry assured him. "She's always askin' after ya'. She's worried you're gonna get sick again."

Heyes smiled. "Tell her I'll try not to."

"Yeah, I will. I'd appreciate ya' not getting' sick again too."

"Hmmm." Heyes sat silent again for a moment, then… "How are the girls?"

"They're fine." Curry assured him. "I think Beth is going to be spending Thanksgiving in Denver, weather permitting. Then they're all going to be coming out to the ranch for Christmas."

"Hmmm." Was Heyes' only comment again. He was staring off into empty space, a sadness enveloping him, a sadness that was deeper than any that Curry had ever seen before, and it scared him. Like Heyes had lost yet one more piece of himself—like he was giving up.

Then Pearson shifted his weight just slightly, but Curry had come to recognize that little bit of body language as 'time to wrap it up' and he was a little angry with himself for feeling relieved. This had been a difficult and awkward visit and part of him was glad that it was over with. But on the other hand, Curry felt anxious about leaving his friend when he was in this kind of mood. He was no longer sure about what Heyes was or was not capable of doing.

"I guess our time is up Heyes." Curry told him. "I gotta go."

"Yeah, okay."

"Don't do anything stupid, alright?"

"No, I won't."

Curry smiled. It had been a very simple exchange, but it was enough of a reassurance that the Kid was able to relax a little and feel confident that he would be seeing Heyes again.

"Hopefully I'll get in ta' see ya' one more time before winter really hits." Curry tried to promise him as he got to his feet.

"Yeah, okay Kid—oh and Kid?"

"Yeah Heyes?" He asked, and he looked over to his partner to see a sparkle in those dark brown eyes and a dimpled grin upon his face.

"Try not to worry so much, okay?"

Curry gave a quiet laugh. "Yeah Heyes, okay. See ya' later."

Once out of the visitor's room, Curry went over to the guard at reception and asked about seeing Mr. Reece.

"He's busy." The guard told him. "What do you need to see him for?"

"Well, I need to give him this parcel that I left here with my gun and coat." Kid explained. "It'll only take a moment."

"Like I said; he's busy." The guard reiterated. "You can leave it with me; I'll make sure he gets it."

Kid smiled. Not his friendly smile, but his 'I'm talking to an idiot' smile.

"Sorry, can't do that." Curry informed him. "I have to give it directly to Mr. Reece."

"He could be a while."

"That's fine. I'll just sit over there and wait."

"Suit yourself." The guard smirked as he handed Curry's belongings over to him. "But like I said; he's busy."

Curry went over to the lounge area and sat down, settling in for a long wait. Since the guard at reception was making no move to let Kenny know that he had a visitor, Curry was preparing himself for a really long wait. Then, twenty minutes later, much to his surprise, Mr. Reece himself put in an appearance.

Curry stood up and the two men shook hands.

"Afternoon Jed." Kenny greeted him. "How are you?"

"Fine." Curry told him. "How did you know I was here?"

"Pearson let me know you wanted to see me." Kenny informed him. "I also wanted to have a word with you before you went. I had asked the receptionist to let me know when you were here, but obviously he forgot."

"Oh." Curry answered, sending a quick glance over to the reception counter where that guard was conveniently not looking their way just then. "Yeah, he forgot alright." Then Jed shrugged it off and pulled his attention back to Kenny. "Well, first off I wanted to give you this so you could make sure Heyes got it. It's just a woolen hat and some mittens, but they're a gift from a friend."

"Yes, okay. I'll be sure he gets them." Kenny said as he took the parcel. Then he sent the Kid a quick searching glance. "I guess you noticed his mood."

"Oh yeah." Jed answered emphatically. "What brought that on? Is it just the 'one year' thing?"

"Partly." Kenny nodded, and then gesturing over to a quiet alcove where they could sit and talk in some privacy, he continued. "The one year anniversary is hard on many of the inmates, especially the lifers. It just seems to be when they start to recognize the reality of their situation. Don't worry about that part of it too much Jed, he'll get over it and when he does he'll be more accepting and things will get a whole lot easier for him."

"Yeah, okay." Jed felt a little relieved at that. Obviously Kenny recognized the pattern. "But you said 'partly'. Has something else happened?"

"Yeah." Kenny admitted a bit reluctantly. "One of the other inmates, a young fella who was due to get out in six months, well he died last week."

"Oh. What happened?"

"Pneumonia." Kenny stated. "Thing is, by rights he shouldn't have died. He was young and healthy; never been sick a day the whole two years he was in here. He should have been able to fight it off. Heyes was looking after him in the infirmary, was with him when he died. He took it kinda hard."

"Aww jeez!" Kid groaned looking back towards the door to the visitor's room. "Why didn't he tell me? Dammit! He mighta' felt better if he'd talked about it!"

Kenny shrugged. "Who knows?" He said. "Maybe by not talking about it he could just pretend it didn't happen."

"Yeah." Jed reflected. "I suppose I can remember thinking along those same lines myself not too long ago. It doesn't work."

"No, it doesn't." Kenny agreed with a smile. "He cares about people. I've seen so many convicts come through here and most of them don't give a damn about anybody but themselves—especially the lifers. That's why they're lifers, most of them are sociopathic and they just can't function 'out there'. But not Heyes. I mean, he comes across as being callous doesn't he? But it's just an act; he really does care about people."

"Yup." Jed agreed. "Loosing that young fella would have been hard on him." Then Curry became contemplative for a moment. "He's also used to being in control of things. I guess in here that control has been taken away from him and maybe working over in the infirmary and just having a better understanding of how things work made him feel like he had some say again in things that happen around him. Loosing a fella like that, a fella who was young and strong and as you say; shouldn't have died in the first place—yup, that would have been real hard on Heyes. Always was; loosing a man he has taken responsibility for—he takes it personal."

"Yeah. I mean, it's obvious isn't it? The man is not a sociopath. It kind of makes me wonder why he was given such a harsh sentence." Kenny commented.

Jed smiled. "Yeah, it do don't it."

The two men locked eyes for a moment and it seemed to Jed that a whole conversation passed between them. For that to happen between him and Heyes was normal, but considering that Jed had not known Kenny for very long, it was an unexpected occurrence. Kenny nodded and then continued with the verbal aspect of their communication.

"I was hoping—again!" He began. "That since you do know him so well, that you might have some insights as to how to get him to engage like he did when he was first introduced to the infirmary. He was doing well for a while and I hoped we'd had it beat, but now he is withdrawing more and more into himself and becoming more violent just like he was when he first came here. He'd stopped going to services a while back and now with what happened to that young man, well he doesn't seem to be getting much satisfaction out of the infirmary anymore either." He sighed reflectively. "Bad timing, really—that incident happening right on his first anniversary here."

Jed sat quietly for a moment, becoming reflective himself and thinking back on the Hannibal Heyes he knew way back when.

"The problem with having a mind like Heyes' is that it needs to be constantly doing something." Curry explained. "It needs to have new and challenging problems to deal with or it starts to create its own problems and then gets itself into trouble."

"Yes, I'd noticed!" Kenny emphasized. "I never know what to expect from him. He can be volatile, unpredictable—explosive even, and then at other times he's thoughtful, inventive and creative. Then all of a sudden, he'll turn around, and be sullen and moody or, like now; downright depressed. I'm at a loss!"

"You can hardly blame him—being stuck in here!" Jed pointed out. "Heyes has always been a doer, always something on the go. He can't stand being cooped up and you're surprised that he's unpredictable? I know you're trying to help him—far more than I would have expected anyone here to be willing to do and hopefully once he is passed this 'one year' hurdle he will be more accepting of things like you say. But he is still going to need things to challenge his mind or he's going to end up self-destructing."

"I agree. That was mainly why Doc and I worked so hard to get him in at the infirmary. Keep him interested and challenged and then hopefully he would stay out of trouble." Kenny then smiled ruefully. "It partly worked." Then after some thought, he continued. "I had hoped that he would find some interest in the lectures that our minister delivers here after services. She's very knowledgeable on many subjects and puts every effort into getting the inmates to engage." Kenny commented, then shrugged and shook his head. "But again, he seemed interested at first and then gradually became bored with it all and eventually stopped attending all together. Dr. Slosson herself is feeling quite frustrated by it all."

Jed nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if anything your minister had to offer up as an education would have just been child's play to Heyes. Especially if she was directin' it more towards the average inmate. Ya' gotta understand that Heyes really is a genius. I'd always tease him about it." Curry smiled in recollection. "He could just be so arrogant sometimes, he needed to get knocked down a peg or two or his head would explode. But he had to understand numbers an' stuff in order to pull off a lot of the jobs that we did. That is what put us above the average outlaw—if you get my meanin'."

"Uh huh." Kenny nodded. "I remember reading about that robbery in Denver, when Heyes blew that Pierce and Hamilton without so much as singeing the contents." He smiled in admiration. "That was nothing short of brilliant."

Curry beamed. It always pleased him to hear others recognize his partner's abilities. But then Kenny suddenly looked slightly embarrassed, realizing that he was practically condoning an illegal act.

"Ugm hmmm." He coughed slightly to cover it up. "Anyway. I know that Sister Julia has already discussed this situation with Dr. Slosson, perhaps if I suggested that she make the lectures more challenging for him, give him something to latch on to. At least until this mood passes and he finds his footing again."

"Yeah." Then Curry became reflective once more, trying to think of alternatives. "Or maybe Dr. Slosson should try somethin' completely different. Like I said; Heyes is already real familiar with numbers and science and stuff. Maybe he needs somethin' completely new. After all, that's what drew him in to the infirmary—medicine was totally new to him, that's what made it challenging."

Kenny nodded. "Alright, thank you Jed. I'll discuss this with Dr. Slosson and maybe she'll come up with something. She's nothing if not inventive—and tenacious—and determined—and tireless—and fearless….."

Curry smiled broadly. "Sounds like someone else we know."

Kenny laughed. "You're right." He agreed. "We need to get them both on the same track." Then he nodded again and stood up. Jed followed suit. "Thank you again. And now I'd best be getting back to work. I'll see that Heyes gets his parcel."

"Thank you."

And the two men shook hands and parted company.

Once Heyes was let loose back into the prison proper he decided to head outdoors for a while in the hopes of clearing his head and lifting his spirits a little bit. Even before he arrived out in the yard he was starting to feel a little guilty over the way he had treated his partner. Curry made the trip from Colorado every month just to spent one hour talking with him and then Heyes sits there all sullen and moody and was even downright rude. Damn it! He'd tried to lighten it up at the end there, but 'too little too late' as they say.

Unfortunately going outdoors didn't really help him to feel any better. At least Curry got to leave here, got to go home, back to a life that ment something. When Kid would start talking about events back at the ranch, even minor ones it just reminded Heyes all the more of how he was stuck in here. So now there's David and his wife expecting their first born—normally that would be happy news but now it was just another time piece, ticking away the months, and now the years.

There was nothing like children to make the passage of time so apparent. Last time he had seen Jay, the boy was still an infant in arms, now he was sampling solid foods, making attempts to walk and talk. Kid was like an older brother to him, or an uncle—a member of the family. Heyes was a stranger, a nobody as far as Jay was concerned. Just a name that got mentioned from time to time but had no real substance.

Now David and Tricia were expecting. Another little time piece coming in to the world. Bridget and Steven were courting and by the way things were going they would be betrothed soon. Then married. Then more children would be arriving. And time would tick on and Heyes would still be here walking around the perimeter of the territorial prison. Where time stood still.

Why did Billings have to die? God Dammit! He should'na died! He was so young—barely twenty and he was going to be outta here in six months! He had a life waiting for him—and Heyes kicked a pebble and watched it bounce across the yard and then bang into a wooden bench. Deep sigh. He felt responsible. Sister Julia had been there as usual, tending to the sick man, helping him through the fever and the coughing and the nightmares. She was so diligent and never left his side.

Then Heyes had come into the infirmary for his day on the job and he had taken over for her so she could have some well earned rest and a meal. He had sat by the young man's bedside, holding his hand and keeping the cold compresses caressing his forehead and neck, trying to keep the fever at bay. Billings seemed to calm down during the late morning. Morin had given him something to ease the coughing and to help him sleep and he really did seem like he had turned the corner and was going to get better.

Then all of a sudden the fever spiked again for no apparent reason and he became distressed and it just seemed that no matter what Heyes did the young man would not quiet down and the fever would not back off. Heyes thought he knew what to do to break a fever, he'd read all about it in the medical journals, he'd even helped other inmates go through it and come out the other end. He'd had all the confidence in the world that he would see Billings through this just as he had the others.

But Billings wasn't improving and eventually Heyes had gotten a little scared. Then he had just been about to call for Morin, for him to come and take a look and make some suggestions when Billings finally calmed down and seemed to be settling. Heyes had breathed a sigh of relief. Then, totally unprepared for it, he heard the death rattle and the young man died right there, with Heyes holding his hand and staring in disbelief at the silent face on the pillow; willing it to move, to breath, to do something! Silently pleading with the young man to give any kind of sign at all that life still lingered so that Heyes would not have to admit that he had failed.

That's how Morin found them when he returned to the ward ten minutes later. Heyes was sitting beside the bed staring blankly into space and still holding on to the dead man's hand. The Doc came over to them and did a quick check on the patient's vital signs even though one look told him that it was already too late. Then he sighed and put a consoling hand on Heyes' shoulder.

"Try not to take it too hard Heyes." He tried to comfort the younger man. "Sometimes that's just the way it goes."

"But why?" Heyes asked in a quiet, shocked voice. "He was young and strong, he should have been able to fight it off. It's like he just gave up."

"There's no rhyme or reason to it." Morin rationalized. "Why one person pulls through and another doesn't. I could never figure it out." Then he started to walk away, mumbling as he went. "Why do ya' think I drink so damn much? Could use a fxxxxxg drink right now, I tell ya'."

Heyes hung his head, still holding onto the lifeless hand. Even though Morin hadn't ment it as an accusation his comment made Heyes feel guilty, since he was the one who told Morin to get rid of his stash in the first place. Now more than ever he could understand completely why Morin always had a bottle on hand 'cause now more than ever, Heyes felt like he could do with a drink too.

Heyes stood out in the prison yard, staring up at the walls and thinking absently about how impossible it would be to scale them. It had nothing to do with the barbed wire that was strung along the tops of them, or with the ever watchful guards up in the corner towers with their ever ready rifles always on hand. No; it was the walls themselves that defied any attempt to scale them and it was like they knew it, standing there all rigid and stark, towering over the inmates, closing in on them, suffocating them. Laughing at them.

"What ya' thinkin' about convict!?"

Heyes just about jumped out of his skin! Dammit! There he was again allowing his mind to wander and not watching his back. He really did need his partner in here with him—how could he be so bloody stupid all the time?! He was startled into eye contact but then quickly looked away and down. It was one of the new hires; a younger guard named Thompson. He was a bully in the making and it riled Heyes that he had to submit to him knowing that in his own element Heyes would have chewed this youngster up and spit him out before breakfast.

"Nothin' sir." Heyes answered to the guards shoes. "Wasn't thinkin' about anything."

"Sure as hell looked to me like you was thinkin' about somethin'!"

"No sir, just daydreamin'."

The end of the bully club caught Heyes in the mid-drift and caused him to catch his breath and stagger, but he didn't go down.

"I don't recall askin' you a direct question! Was that a direct question Convict!?"

Heyes was trying to unclench his jaw and start breathing again when the club came in for another blow because Heyes wasn't fast enough to answer the question about it being a direct question. Heyes' lips pulled back in rising anger both at himself and at the young guard. Of course that hadn't been a direct question! The guard had thrown the bait out there and Heyes had walked right in to the set up like some green newbie! What an idiot! Surprisingly enough though, he was able to keep his anger in check which was quite a feat considering the foul mood he had already been in and he answered the 'direct question' as meekly as he could.

"No sir, it wasn't."

"Good." Thompson gave mock praise. "I was beginning to think you were so stupid you didn't know the difference. A little word of advice; you wanna be out in the yard, that's fine. But don't be standin' around, starin' at the wall like you're makin' plans. You understand me Convict?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Nice ta see ya learnin'."

Then Thompson sauntered away, swinging the bully club like he was just out for a Sunday stroll. Heyes stood where he was for a moment, clutching his gut and reprimanding himself for his own stupidity. He really was beginning to lose his mind. Although, in some ways, he mused, having to cow down to that 'boy' really did kind of bring some understanding as to how it must have been for Wheat. All those years ago in another place and another life when Heyes had 'jumped the cue' and taken over command of Devil's Hole. How that must have rankled the older man who had been in the gang longer and ranked higher while Big Jim had been the boss. Then that little 'up start of a know it all' with his gun slinging partner had decided that they were going to run things. The fact that the gang had then prospered better than ever before had only made it a more bitter pill to swallow.

Yup, Heyes got a little more insight as to how that must have rankled the older man and now Wheat just might be thinking that Heyes was getting his just desserts. Or maybe Heyes was just feeling so down on himself that it would stand to reason that everyone else must be feeling the same way about him too. Hmmm.

Finally Heyes took a deep breath and slowly made his way towards the entrance to the cell block, making sure he didn't send a fleeting glance back towards the walls again. Thompson was probably waiting for him to do just that and would love a reason to justify inflicting another beating on the inmate so Heyes made sure he didn't give him one.

A quick trip down to the kitchen for a coffee and then spend the rest of the afternoon in his cell with the hopes of lifting his spirits with a good book. Yup; that was the plan. Then when he got to his cell he noticed the forgotten about parcel that Curry had brought and that Kenny must have delivered and left on the cot. Heyes smiled briefly then putting his coffee down on the side table, he settled into his pillow and opened up the parcel.

Sure enough it was a hat and some mittens, but also more socks and a scarf as well. There was also a tin container with some of Belle's wonderful Christmas baking inside and Heyes smiled even more—some of those cookies would go perfect with his coffee! Have to keep those hidden, though he might take some over for the Doc and maybe brighten his day a bit. These days they could both use some Christmas Cheer, even if it was a little early.

There was also a letter apparently from Belle, which was a nice surprise as Heyes hadn't heard from her for some time now. He settled himself even more so into his pillow that was between him and the wall and tried to get comfortable—not an easy feat as he rubbed his bruised rib cage. He was certain; if he ever got out of here he would be sporting a permanent array of bruises made by those damn clubs. It seemed as though every new hire or latest transfer just had to prove himself to the boss and apparently the only way they could think of to do that was to beat up an inmate. Somehow it just seemed to go with the territory.

Finally having settled in, Heyes laid the letter out on his drawn up knees and with coffee cup in one hand and a tasty Christmas cookie in the other, he began to read.

_October 1886_

_Dearest Joshua;_

_I have been meaning for some time now to sit down and write a letter to you as I'm sure things must get very dreary there. So finally this afternoon I have taken some time to do just that. I'm sure I'm only repeating what Thaddeus has already assured you of, but the truth does not suffer from repetition. Just know that we all miss you very, very much and look forward with much anticipation to the day when you can come home and sit around our dinner table again and enjoy this family that is yours._

_I'm not sure if Thaddeus will have told you (since this is hardly news that young men would find of interest) but David and Tricia are expecting their first child which is due in early spring. Both young people are very excited and insist that they can hardly wait for the big day. I can't help but smile to myself at their joy and think playfully that I should loan them Jay for a week just to give them a taste of what they are heading in to. But common sense prevails and I continue to keep young Jay at home! Don't want to scare the new parents-to-be out of their joyous anticipation!_

_As for Jay himself, he is growing in leaps and bounds—I'm sure you would not recognize him, all brown eyes and blonde hair! And mischief! Now that he is crawling everywhere, nowhere is safe! I am still amazed at how different he is from the girls—so much more of a handful. But thank goodness Beth enjoys him so much as she does take a lot of the strain off of me. And believe it or not; so does Thaddeus. He has taken quite a fondness for the boy and will often play with him and even take him for rides around the yard on his ever patient gelding! In return, Jay just loves him to pieces and pesters him no end!_

_The ranch is doing very well and Jesse was able to quit his teaching job some time ago and focus on running this business. I thought at first that he might have a hard time with that, as he loves teaching so much, but he has settled into it with no problems and seems to enjoy being home more now. Although he is still often away to check up on stock out on the back pastures but on the most part he leaves that to the younger hires (or Thaddeus) and focuses more on the business end of things._

_Karma is also doing well and seems to be blossoming with her pregnancy. She is loving all the extra attention that Beth dolls out on her and of course is happy with the extra feed she is receiving. She is such a lovely mare Joshua and I can certainly understand why you are so fond of her. Rest assured that she is well looked after here and seems to be quite content with her lot._

_Beth will be spending Thanksgiving in Denver with Bridget and your friend Clementine and I know that she is very much looking forward to it. I do hope that Miss Hale doesn't mind being invaded by our two daughters! She seems to be a very energetic and agreeable young woman and I'm sure has a life of her own, so having two young maidens suddenly dropped into her guardianship must have been quite a shock. Still they do all seem to enjoy one another's company and I have heard no complaints so hopefully she is alright with the current arrangement. She is invited to join us all out here for Christmas in any case and I am hoping she will attend. Another full house!_

_Dear Joshua—I know you must be feeling very frustrated by now that no progress has been made towards your pardon but please let me assure you that no one here has given up. We are at a bit of a stalemate now, but I'm sure that this is just temporary. Goodness knows, whenever Steven is out here the after dinner conversation always focuses around you and what the next step should be. Even David gets involved whenever he can._

_I must admit though, that there are times that I fear for Thaddeus. He gets so frustrated just sitting back and waiting for the legal system to start working. I suppose he is so accustomed to taking whatever measures are necessary to achieve his goal whether they are legal or not, that having to do things by the book is very infuriating for him. Jesse, David and Steven (not to mention your friend Lom Trevors) have done a lot of talking to him over the months to keep him from giving up his own amnesty in a bid to 'break you out' and then head to Mexico! So far we have been able to keep him focused on our combined goal but we can all tell that the enforced inactivity is wearing on him._

_All I can ask of you Joshua, is that you keep the faith and know that we all love you and that we are still doing all we can to bring about your pardon. And please stay safe. The little that Thaddeus has told me of your life in that horrid place is enough to send shivers down my spine! Every night I pray for your continued safely and well being—and please, keep your strength up! Your illness last winter was a trial for all of us!_

_Keep safe!_

_With all my love and warm thoughts;_

_Belle._

Heyes sat back with a sigh. He took a nibble of cookie and a sip of coffee and contemplated Belle's letter and wasn't sure if it made him feel any better or not. Again, hearing about all the things going on at home was very frustrating for him; it was all just more reminders of how life was carrying on without him.

But then that comment of Kid thinking about breaking him out and the two of them disappearing south of the border—well, that just wasn't acceptable! Heyes would have to have a word with his partner about that next time they got together. No way was Kid going to throw away his life now in order to save Heyes—that was not going to happen! Trust his partner though, to be thinking along those lines. He didn't know anyone who was as bullheaded and stubborn as Jed was but he was just going to have to learn self-control and patience and start getting used to doing things the legal way.

Then Heyes groaned a little as he again regretted his sullen mood during the Kid's visit earlier that day. It was one thing for Heyes to be feeling that way, but he really needed to try harder to hide it away when the Kid came to see him. All this stuff was hard enough on his cousin without Heyes making him feel guilty at not getting things moving faster. It wasn't Kid's fault, Heyes knew that, but he also knew that Jed would feel it as such and that just might make him throw all their hard work to the wind in order to get Heyes out.

This was all so frustrating! Why did all these things have to come at him at once? The one year anniversary of being stuck in this place was bad enough, but then Billings had to up and die on him and that had just knocked his confidence so far into the floorboards that he didn't even want to go back to the infirmary anymore. Now, here's Belle stating that Curry was actually contemplating an illegal act in order to get him out of prison.

Now it was going to be another month before he would be able to speak to the Kid again and there was nothing Heyes could do about it. Hopefully the other, calmer heads in the group would continue to talk sense to his cousin and prevent him from undertaking such a desperate maneuver. It was almost a good thing that the colder weather was approaching and that it would be almost impossible to attempt such a rescue!

Heyes sighed again, finished his cookie and then his coffee and stretched out, thinking about what his next move should be. He knew he should probably write to David. Not so much because of his pending state of fatherhood, although Heyes would of course offer his congratulations along those lines, but more so because Heyes needed to discuss with his friend what had happened in the infirmary.

Morin, of course had assured him that it wasn't his fault. Sister Julia had offered comforting words and solace, but they had all sounded empty to Heyes, like they were simply patting him on the head and placating him as though he were a child who couldn't have helped it simply because he didn't know any better. Heyes couldn't help but feel that if Dr. Morin had been in the ward at the time then young Billings wouldn't have died. Morin of course, denied that but Heyes still felt it was his own inexperience that had allowed it to happen and for a man who was usually so confident in his own abilities, this was a crippling blow to his ego.

So he would write to David, knowing in his heart that it was simply because he needed reassurance; needed someone whom he respected and admired to tell him that these things happened and that he shouldn't blame himself etc. etc. Indeed, all the things that Morin and Sister Julia had already reiterated to him but that just didn't seem to mean anything until David said it too.

Then, since Heyes was only allowed to write one letter a week, he would include comments to Belle and a lecture to Curry all in the same transcript and instruct David to pass them along. 'There!' Heyes thought as he stared up at a ceiling he could see. 'Kill three birds with one stone and that'll be everyone taken care of!'

Then Heyes thought he had lost his mind when he heard a woman's voice calling his name!

"Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes jumped and looked over to the door of his cell, then instantly scrambled to his feet at the sight of Kenny escorting a very unexpected visitor!

"Dr. Slosson—Ma'am!" Heyes suddenly felt very self-conscious and vulnerable and he didn't quite know where to look. Finally he looked down, which is of course the most acceptable stance for a convict.

"Mr. Heyes, please don't be concerned." The Reverent assured him. "And I do apologize for disturbing you during your leisure time."

"That's alright Ma'am." Heyes stammered. "It's no disturbance at all."

Dr. Slosson smiled. "I hope you will not be offended when I tell you that Sister Julia and I have been discussing you."

"Discussing me Ma'am?"

"Yes. We have both been very concerned about you." The Reverent admitted. "You have stopped coming to services even though you seemed to greatly enjoy it when you were coming. Especially the singing. You do have a very fine singing voice on those rare occasions when you allowed it to come forth."

Heyes suddenly felt very awkward and he continued to stare at the floor with his hands behind his back, not quite sure what he was supposed to say.

"Ahhh, thank you Ma'am." He finally stammered out.

She smiled. "Why have you stopped coming to services Mr. Heyes?"

"Ahhh." Heyes stood there with his mouth open, but his silver tongue had gone into hiding. He glanced over to Kenny but there was no help coming from that quarter. "Ahhmm. I just….I, ah had been given some books that I wanted to read so was staying here to read them." Even to him that sounded lame.

"Sister Julia fears that you are depressed and becoming withdrawn." Dr. Slosson explained. "Mr. Reece here has made the same observation and has suggested that we offer you something new and challenging in order to assist you through this difficult time."

"I don't think that would be necessary…."

"On the contrary Mr. Heyes, I feel it would be a good idea."

Heyes sighed resignedly. He was being ganged up on, he could tell. He couldn't help but send a subtle but accusatory glance over to the guard. Kenny chose to ignore him.

"Why don't you come and join us at our next service?" Dr. Slosson continued. "I can't help but feel that you will be pleasantly surprised."

Heyes sent another glance towards Kenny and a quick, silent conversation took place between them. Kenny broke eye contact with a slightly raised eyebrow. It was an unheard of occurrence for a guard to look away from an inmate, but it was Kenny's way of telling Heyes that the decision to attend chapel was totally up to him. But the raised brow added in no uncertain terms that he had better make the 'right' decision.

The left corner of Heyes' lip twitched in a slight smile that he tried to hide.

"Yes Ma'am." He agreed. "I will certainly attend the next service Ma'am. I'll look forward to it."

"Good! I'll look for you there."

Then, with one last glance back at the inmate, Kenny escorted the good Reverent out towards the exit. The smile dropped from Heyes' face and he went back to looking dejected. 'Crap!' He thought. 'Why couldn't people just leave him alone!?'

As soon as Jed Curry stepped off the train in Brookswood, he knew something was wrong. When you finally get the chance to put down roots in a place you slowly begin to get to know it just as you would get to know a new friend and just as with a person, in time you get to recognize the moods. It's a subtle shift in the feel of a town when something tragic has happened and a drifter just passing through might not pick up on it, but Jed was no longer that drifter and he knew; something had happened while he was away.

He stood on the platform of the train depot and tried to get an inkling of what was wrong. He watched the people moving up and down the boardwalk going about their daily business and there was nothing apparent in their moods or expressions to suggest anything amiss, and yet….

He furrowed his brow and thought on it for a moment. Where was the best place to go to get information? The Sheriff's office was always a good start—well, hadn't been 'always' until recently, but now—yeah. Then there was the telegraph office or the Mercantile, they generally knew what was going on in town. Hmmm. He started to walk. The telegraph office was the closest so may as well start there.

"Hey Clayt." Curry greeted the man behind the counter. "How's everything going?"

"Fine, fine." Came Clayt's non-committal answer. "Nothin' for you today though. Ya' wanna send somethin'?"

"Nope. Just checkin'." Curry commented. "Anything new in town?"

"Nope." Clayt answered with a bit of uncomfortable shuffling. "Everything's quiet."

"Uh huh." Came the suspicious response. "Ya' sure?"

"Yup."

"Okay, see ya' later." And Jed turned and left the office much to the relief of the other occupant. Those kinda things, well, men just don't talk about them. That's what women folk are for, dagnabbit!

Well, that was a lost cause so Jed headed over to the Sheriff's office. Surely Sheriff Jacobs would know what was up and wouldn't be all squeamish about discussing it either.

"Howdy Sheriff."

"Oh—Mr. Curry." Jacobs acknowledged him. "You're back huh?"

"Yeah." Curry looked at him suspiciously. "What's goin' on? Everything alright out at the Jordan's place?"

"Oh, yeah, everything's fine out there." Jacobs assured him.

"Well what then?" Curry was starting to get frustrated. "I know something's happened, but no one will tell me what!"

"Well, it's just not something people want to talk about is all." Jacobs tried to explain. "You're friends with the Doc ain't ya'?"

"Yeah." Curry agreed suspiciously.

"Well, maybe you should just go talk to him." Jacobs suggested. "Actually that might be a real good idea. I'm pretty sure you'll find him over in the saloon."

"At the saloon?" Curry questioned. That was odd. David wasn't generally a drinking man and it got Jed a little worried if that's where the doctor was to be found.

"Yup." Jacobs reiterated. "At least that's where he's been all night and most of this morning so I expect he's still there. Might not be sober though."

"Right." Jed nodded and feeling very much on edge now, he left the Sheriff's office and headed over to the drinking establishment.

It was early afternoon, so the place was still quite quiet but one quick glance around at the tables did not produce the desired result, so Jed made his way over to the bar and waved Bill over.

"I was told that the Doc might be in here, but I don't see him." Curry explained. "Is he around somewhere's?"

"Oh yeah." Bill answered with a nod. "He's sittin' at that table over in the corner there. You know, the one that ya' can't see from the door."

"The one under the staircase?"

"That's it."

"Okay, thanks."

"Ya' want a beer to take with ya'?" Bill suggested. "You could be a while."

"Oh, yeah okay."

Curry collected his beer and then headed for the disclosed table that was settled in the shadows under the staircase. Sure enough, there was David sitting quietly by himself, staring off into space with a distant expression on his face. There was a half empty whiskey bottle on the table by his arm and an empty shot glass still being held in his hand and the whole scene just dripped with oppression.

"David?" Jed quietly spoke to his friend as he approached the table. "What's wrong? What's happened? Is Tricia alright?"

David looked up at his friend as though suddenly realizing he was there, and then he looked over at the whiskey bottle and decided to pour himself another drink.

"Yeah, Trish is alright." He answered non-committedly.

"The baby?"

"Baby's fine."

"Well what then?" Jed asked as he sat down and put his beer on the table without having taken a drink. "What's the matter?"

David looked over at him with a sad and dazed expression in his eyes. Jed had never seen his friend looking so distraught and it scared him a little. Jeez, first Heyes and now David—was it a full moon or something? David always seemed to be so much in control.

"I don't….I don't really want to talk about it." David said and he looked away.

"Oh no ya' don't!" Jed countered him. "You never let me get away with that and now I'm gonna return the favour! What the hell happened David!?"

David looked at him again, and suddenly tears spilled from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He gasped in his breath and quickly wiped the tears away.

"Awww David." Jed said quietly. "C'mon, tell me what happened."

David sighed deeply and then relented. "You remember the Robertson's? They were expecting a baby, due right around Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, I know who you mean." Jed acknowledged. "They have that small spread just five miles south a' here."

David nodded. "Two days ago Wendy started having contractions."

"Eww, that's early." Even Jed knew that wasn't good.

"Yeah." David agreed and downed his whiskey, then poured himself another. "I knew as soon as I got out there that something was wrong—not just that it was early, but something was really wrong. Wendy was just in agony; the contractions were strong, and she was bleeding but nothing else was happening. The other two kids were scared and crying and poor Floyd was just beside himself trying to keep it all together." Down went the next shot of whiskey, and another one poured. David took a deep shuttering sigh. "Turns out the baby was breech. I've delivered breech babies before, but this one was bad and in distress."

"Breech? What's that?" Jed asked quietly, his own beer forgotten.

"Feet first." David answered. "The baby hadn't turned around the way it should have and it was hung up and wasn't moving. Of course Wendy was pushing, the contractions were strong just like they should be, but nothing was happening. I knew we were running out of time; the baby was going to suffocate if I didn't get it out quickly but the birth canal wasn't wide enough and I couldn't get in there to maneuver the baby into position. I was preparing to do a caesarian…"

"What's that?"

"It's when the birthing canal is blocked. You make an incision in the woman's abdomen and get the baby out that way."

"Ohh." Jed went a little pale.

The next shot of whiskey went south and David poured another one.

"So." David continued. "I was just getting prepared to do that when Wendy screamed and suddenly the baby was born. But it wasn't right. It was small—well that's not surprising really considering how early it was, but it had a bluish tinge so I knew it hadn't gotten enough oxygen. I got hold of it and cleared his mouth and tried to massage his lungs to get him breathing, and he did! You know, he coughed a little and started to squirm and he took a couple of breaths and then…."

"What David? What happened then?" But Jed had a dreadful feeling he already knew what happened.

David shook his head and the tears rolled down again.

"He just died." David whispered. "One minute I was holding this small precious little life in my hands and the next it was just gone."

"Aww David, I'm sorry."

"But then I had to just put him aside and tend to his mother." David continued. "Wendy was bleeding something awful. She was torn up inside and by this time she was really weak. Poor Floyd was in shock—he was holding on to her hand and trying to comfort her but she had passed out by then. The two other children were screaming. I was doing everything I knew how to do to stop her from bleeding out but nothing was working." Another shot of whiskey disappeared. Another shot was poured. "I kept hearing Hannibal yelling at me;_ 'you're a doctor! You're supposed to save people! Save him!'_ And I was trying to! I was doing everything I knew how to do to save her!" Then he turned imploring eyes over to Jed. "Please tell Hannibal I really was trying!"

"No, David." Jed tried to comfort his friend. "Heyes didn't mean any judgment on you when he said that. You told me yourself that he was terrified—he was just grasping at straws, at anything. He didn't mean to imply that you weren't trying."

"Yeah. And I was trying."

"And you saved my life David."

"Yeah." David acknowledged that, but then he sobbed and the tears came forth again. "But I didn't save hers!"

Jed felt his heart break. He didn't know the Robertson's very well, but they seemed like a decent enough family. He put a hand on his friends shoulder and tried to offer what solace he could but he knew that it was far from being enough.

"I lost both of them Jed!" David stated through his tears. "With her husband and her children right there waiting for me to save the day and to make everything alright. I lost both of them."

Jed sighed and then got up and walked back over to the bar. He returned a moment later with another bottle of whiskey and a second shot glass. This was going to be a long afternoon.

The two men sat quietly together while David worked his way through his misery. Jed poured himself a drink and re-filled David's glass from the bottle that was already open. May as well finish that one up before starting on the second. At least David lived within walking distance of the saloon so both men could sit here and get drunk and not have far to go to find a bed to sleep it off.

Half an hour later Sheriff Jacobs entered the saloon, and doing a quick scan of the premises, figured that they were sitting in the corner and sauntered over to check up on them.

"I see ya' found him alright." Jacobs stated the obvious.

"Yeah." Jed answered. "I think we'll just be sittin' here for a while."

"Well, okay." Jacobs answered. "Not going to be any trouble is there?"

"No Sheriff, no trouble." Jed assured him. "I'll make sure I don't get quite as drunk as he does."

Jacobs chuckled. "Yeah, okay. At least ya' know where he lives."

"Yup." Jed commented. "Does his wife know he's here?"

"I'll go over right now and tell her." Jacobs offered. "I'll also let her know that you're with him and that she should expect both of you to stagger in together at some point during the evening."

Then Jacobs tipped his hat and headed out of the establishment to accomplish his errand. Jed sat back and poured them both another drink.

"What if I lose her Jed?" David suddenly asked out of the blue.

"What? Lose who?"

"Tricia!" He stated. "What would I do if I were to lose her like that? She's my life. I'd be lost without her."

"David you can't be thinkin' on it like that." Jed tried to be reasonable. "Look at the babies you have delivered and they're all doing fine! Things happen. Like you said; the baby was early and a breech and there was probably a lot more things wrong with it that you don't even know about. It died so quickly after being born; it must have had other things wrong with it. Trish is young and healthy—you're going to have a beautiful baby, just you wait and see!"

"I'd rather not have a baby at all if it's going to mean loosing her." David mumbled as he stared off into space. "We were so happy; finally! A family—finally! But now….." David shook his head. "I'm scared to death I'm going to loose her."

"Yup. I suppose I can understand why you'd be feelin' that way right now." Jed sympathized. "But ya' can't let that hold you back. Bad things happen and life just ain't fair sometimes but ya' just gotta keep on tryin'."

Jed sat quietly for a few moments then, wondering if he was giving that pep talk to David or to himself. Goodness knows he'd been feeling pretty hard done by lately, that life just hadn't handed Heyes a fair shake at all and Jed had been feeling pretty angry about that. But sometimes ya' just gotta keep on pushin'. Jed sighed and shook his head a little; what happened to the Robertson family did kinda put things into perspective a bit. Not that what was happening with Heyes wasn't bad enough, but Jed couldn't even imagine what it must be like to loose your wife and your child like that. Devastating just doesn't even begin to describe it.

He remembered back to that first 'conversation' he'd had with Rick Layton out in the barn at the Jordan's place. Rick had commented, almost nonchalantly that he had lost his wife and child the same way. Jed recalled stating even then that it must have been a tough thing to go through and Rick had agreed and then promptly changed the subject. Something like that—well, it's just not something you can walk away from.

"Well, c'mon David." Jed suggested while he poured out more whiskey. "What do ya' say we get drunk and put all this misery behind us?"

"Yeah, okay."

Fortunately David was a cheap drunk and by the time early evening rolled around Jed was helping his friend to his feet and they were heading for the exit of the saloon. A few of the regular patrons had ambled in by that time, hoping for a couple of beers and some social time before heading for home and though they glanced up when the odd couple made their move, most quickly averted their eyes once they saw who it was.

No body wanted to acknowledge the tragedy that had taken place—it made for awkward conversation and though they all felt bad for Floyd loosing his wife and child like that it really was up to the women folk to do the consoling. But nobody really knew how to console the Doc. On the most part all the sympathy and kind words went out to the bereaved family, and the doctor who had attended was a non-entity. But now, seeing that doctor—who was by the way, well thought of by most of the citizenry—drunk and being assisted home by his friend, well it just kinda made everyone a bit uncomfortable.

It was a rather damp and chilly evening when David and Jed exited the saloon and though David didn't feel the cold, Jed certainly did and he hurried them along towards the Gibson residence just to get into the warmth again. The stove was going and the lights had been lit when Jed hauled David up the front steps and through the front door and into the kitchen. Tricia was on her feet instantly and came over to help get her husband settled in.

"Thank goodness you're home." She told Jed. "I wasn't quite getting worried yet, but not far from it."

Jed smiled. "He'll be alright. Just needs to sleep it off."

"Hi Babe!" David slurred. "Juss havin' a drink wi' ma' friend ere."

"I know David." She answered her husband. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Eat?"

"Yes."

"Naw. How 'bout 'nother drink?"

"I think you've had enough to drink dear." Trish informed him. "Why don't you go lie down?"

"Sure!" He slurred. "You join me."

"Not right now. I'll come join you later."

"Oh, okay."

At which point Jed helped Tricia shuffle her husband down to their bedroom and then he left them alone and headed back to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the ever present pot on the stove and sat down at the kitchen table to await instructions. Fifteen minutes later Tricia returned and poured herself a cup of coffee as well.

"He settled in okay?" Jed asked her as she sat down at the table with him.

"Yes." She said with a sigh. "I think he was asleep before I got his boots off."

"Good." Jed answered. "Kinda rough couple a days huh?"

"Yes." Tricia answered again. "Thank you for watching out for him today. I was worried about him until the Sheriff came by and said that you were with him. I knew he would be alright then. Thank you."

Jed smiled. It was nice to be trusted with precious cargo.

"That's okay." He said. "Glad I could be of help. Funny thing is; Heyes is going through something similar himself right now."

"Oh? How do you mean?"

"Well, you know he's been working in the infirmary at the prison."

"Yes." Tricia confirmed with a smile. "Hard not to know it! The letters that have been flying back and forth between Hannibal and David on that very topic have been keeping the delivery service in business!"

"Well I think it's about to get swamped again!" Jed announced with a laugh. Then he turned serious at Tricia's questioning glance. "Heyes had a young fella up and die on him a while back. He's taking it kinda hard. I'm hoping he'll write to David about it, maybe give him some perspective."

"Oh." Tricia responded. "I am sorry to hear that. It is difficult to deal with. Some doctors get hardened to it and just don't feel it anymore, but I don't think David is ever going to be one of those. He takes it so personally."

"Yeah, Heyes too." Jed agreed. "Maybe it'll do them both some good to talk it out between them."

"I hope so!" Tricia said emphatically. "David has lost patients before, and children are always the hardest. But to loose a newborn and then the mother as well…it's going to be a while before he'll be able to look Floyd Robertson in the face again."

"Yeah, I suppose."

Then she thoughtfully ran a hand across her belly which was only just beginning to show signs of her own pregnancy—if you looked real hard.

"Bad timing too." She commented quietly. "He was so excited before, but now I know he's worried. He's tried not to show it around me, but I can tell. He's scared that the same thing is going to happen with us."

"Yeah." Jed admitted. "He did bring that up."

Tricia looked up and met his eyes. "It won't though." She insisted. "We're going to have a healthy happy baby and everything will be fine."

Jed just nodded. It wasn't exactly a topic that he was comfortable discussing, but he was doing his best.

Then Tricia pushed herself away from the table. "I've got some stew I can heat up for supper and then of course you'll spend the night. Your old room is all set up for you."

"Oh, well…."

"Jed, don't be silly." Trish insisted. "It's too dark now for you to ride out to the Double J and I'm sure David would like your company tomorrow when he wakes up."

Jed smiled. He hadn't actually been looking forward to the ride out to the ranch at that point anyways—not only was it dark out now, as Tricia had said, but he'd had a few to drink as well so the invite to stay in town had been tempting. Then, on top of that, to be able to settle into a familiar bed rather than amble over to the hotel made it even more so.

"Yeah, okay." He agreed.

Jed ended up staying with the Gibson's for most of that week simply because David seemed to appreciate his company, and Tricia seemed to appreciate his support. Jed also knew that the Jordan's never expected to see him until he showed up when he headed out on his monthly trip into Wyoming since he would often stop by to visit Lom or even go and try to harass the Governor for awhile. Lately though his trips to Cheyenne had been pretty much a waste of time since Governor Warren generally shut him out and nothing was accomplished by it anyways.

There was a somber funeral service held for Wendy Robertson and her tiny son, Caleb Floyd who had only known barely a minute of life and just about everyone in town who could attend, did. The Gibson's joined up with the Jordan's there and ended up having lunch together after the service but it was a sad affair on the most part. David felt uncomfortable as though he was an imposter on the family's time of grief and he and Tricia did not stay long.

Jed stayed a little longer to visit with Jesse and to fill him in on what was happening with Heyes but nobody really lingered. Aside from close friends who stayed to help the Robertson's deal with life as they knew it now, most families departed early and headed for their own homes. Jed returned to the Gibson's home for a few more days until David had begun to find his footing again and then he too headed back to the Double J and everyone began to look ahead to Thanksgiving.

A few days after Jed had gone home, a letter from Hannibal arrived for David and the good doctor wasn't sure if he was ready to read it yet or not. He suspected what was going to be in it and he was still kind of afraid that reading about Han's difficulties in the infirmary would cause his own wounds to open again and he didn't really feel up to dealing with all that just yet. Finally though, his natural compassion for a friend in need won him over and he settled in to his comfortable arm-chair, with a cup of evening tea and opened the letter.

_"David;_

_I have been sitting here for over half an hour now, staring at this blank sheet of paper trying to think of what to say and how to say it. How do I even begin? First off I must ask you to please apologize to Kid for me as I was in a foul mood when he was here and I very much regret it now. He is good enough to come all the way here to spend time with me and I want him to know that I really do appreciate it. Although, knowing Kid, he probably already does know this._

_Belle also mentioned in her letter that Kid has been making noises about breaking me out of this hell hole and both of us then heading for Mexico! She also assured me that everyone else was doing everything they could to convince him otherwise. I just want to include my support to your endeavors! Goodness knows I would give just about anything to get out of here, but my cousin's amnesty is not one of those things, so if you have to tie him down and gag him to prevent him from acting irrationally, you have my permission. You may also feel free to inform him that I said so!_

_Now, that said, if you could also send my thanks to Belle for the wonderful Christmas gifts she sent, they will come to good use for sure. The cookies were certainly a delightful change from prison food and are already gone!_

_I also want to offer congratulations as I hear that you and your wife are expecting a new addition to your household. I'm sure you are both very excited at the prospect of becoming parents and I have no doubt that you'll be a natural at it!_

_At this point I am almost tempted to close the letter off and leave it at that, but then I will berate myself for being a coward and will have to wait another week before being able to write to you again. So…here goes._

_I'm hoping that Kid told you what happened here as I really don't feel up to going into great detail about the incident, and knowing Kenny Reece (one of the guards) he filled the Kid in on all the details. Let it suffice for me to say that a young man who was in my care passed away from pneumonia a couple of weeks back and I suppose I'm having a hard time accepting that._

_I certainly don't presume to be any kind of a doctor and certainly not one of your caliber, but I thought that I had learned enough to be able to help someone get through a fever. Goodness knows I've spent many a sleepless night helping Kid get through his bouts of illnesses over the years—and that was before doing any studying up on the subject._

_How is it that I could have lost someone so easily? He was a young man, David! Young and strong, and before the fever hit him, healthy. What did I do wrong? Morin insists that it wasn't my fault, that there often is no apparent reason why one person will survive and another not, but I still can't help but feel that I should have been able to do something._

_At this point I'm feeling like I should just stay out of the infirmary, that Dr. Morin should find himself another assistant. I just don't think I'm any good at this. I'm used to things working the way they're supposed to work. With dynamite or nitroglycerin you know what you're dealing with; you do things a certain way and certain things happen. When you follow a mathematical calculation the end result will always be the same and if it's not then you did something wrong! So what did I do wrong?_

_Anyway, I'm running out of paper so I guess I should wrap this up. I feel kind of silly burdening you with this nonsense. I am sure you are shaking your head at my incompetence and thanking the fates that I'm not a licensed practitioner going around and letting people die from the most common of illnesses! I just don't understand what I did wrong._

_H. H."_

David sighed and stared off into space for a few minutes, thinking about what he had just read. Hannibal's feelings of inadequacy really brought home to him how he himself had been feeling about his own recent failure. Far from opening up those wounds and bringing forth the pain again, seeing those feelings written out in black and white actually helped to clarify things in his own mind and helped him to deal with them more realistically.

Obviously Han was feeling very lost and his self-confidence had taken a beating. The fact that he had repeated a number of times his insistence that he had done something wrong rather than simply accepting that the patient had died indicated how deeply he was feeling remorse over it. In fact, Han's feelings so perfectly mirrored his own that David knew that responding to his letter would be a healing process for himself as well.

Having realized that, David also realized that it was not something to be taken lightly so he decided to leave the letter for now and allow himself to sleep on it. Then, in the evening of the following day he would settle himself at the table and do some soul searching for himself and thereby, hopefully help to heal them both.

_Hannibal;_

_My dear friend, your letter could not have come at a more appropriate time for me and I am glad that you plucked up the courage to write it, not only for your own sake but for mine as well. I just recently lost a young woman and her infant during childbirth and found myself in a depression and filled with the same self-doubts that you have expressed in your own narrative. So please understand and appreciate that what I say to you now comes from my heart and is what I know to be true but still need to reiterate to myself at times like this._

_Though pneumonia is a common enough ailment these days, especially for those who are already weakened by their circumstances, it is never a sure thing that the person suffering from it will survive. I know that Jed has had bouts with this infection in the past and has always come through it, much due to your insistence that he do so, but there are many young and strong individuals who do not._

_Your young patient could have had any number of health problems before developing this infection that you know nothing about. He could already have had weak lungs, or a heart condition that would easily have gone undetected until such a time as this. I know you blame yourself, but please try not to—easier said than done, I know, but you must keep in mind that a human being is not a stick of dynamite or a mathematical equation. There are just way too many variables to be able to accurately predict how a patient is going to respond to treatment. Your friend Dr. Morin is correct; there is just no way to tell who is going to survive an illness and who isn't._

_Why did my young mother bleed to death? She'd had two previous children with no problems, she was healthy and strong. There was no logical reason for it, but none the less we buried her and her infant son last week and I have to live with the fact that her husband is now without his wife and their two older children are without their mother. Believe me, I felt like packing my bags and heading for Alaska where I wouldn't have to look that family in the eye again!_

_But of course that was impractical! I am a doctor, it is what I love to do and I will keep on doing it. Besides, I don't think Tricia would have let me go anyways. You seem to have shown an aptitude towards helping people in the infirmary and I'm sure that Dr. Morin would greatly miss your assistance if you insist on leaving that position. I hope that you do not. You cannot allow this one failure, which indeed was not a failure at all to push you away from something you obviously take pleasure in doing. And if it helps you to stay sane in that insane place, then all the more reason to stay with it._

_It was not your fault Hannibal, you did not do anything wrong! Please believe me when I say this and keep in mind that I am saying it to myself just as much as I am to you. Somehow, if you don't believe it then I won't either, and we both need to believe it, okay? So I am asking you for my own benefit as well as yours that you accept what I am saying and that you pick yourself up and get back to it!_

_As for your other requests, I will indeed let Jed know that you regret your mood when he was last there. I also agree that, knowing Jed, he already knows that you ment nothing by it, and far from having to forgive you, never took any insult from it in the first place. Still, even if unnecessary, an apology is never wasted._

_I'm not sure if I'm willing to make an attempt to tie him down though. Even with a stiff shoulder he is still the fastest gunman I have ever seen! But rest assured that those of us here will continue to empress upon him the importance of patience and that he must not take the law into his own hands. Indeed, from what conversation I have had with him on this topic, he has indicated that he is well aware of the foolishness of such an attempt and that you would not go for it anyways! I don't believe you need to concern yourself about it, or to expect a rescue from that quarter!_

_I agree, Belle's Christmas cookies are the best I have ever tasted (don't tell Tricia)! And I am sure that once I tell her that your supply is already gone she will get busy and bake you some more—which also means more for the rest of us! I am also glad that she knitted you some more clothing as I am sure the winters get terribly cold in that place. Be sure to eat a lot—even if you don't feel hungry, eat as much as you can and stay as warm as you can and by all means stay as dry as you can! As I'm sure you are well aware, especially now, pneumonia can not be taken lightly so stay healthy!_

_Parenthood! Yes, what a terrifying but glorious event! I have delivered many babies and have always been thrilled by the arrival of new life, but I never once considered the overwhelming changes that come into one's life once that new little bundle arrives! I must admit to being scared to death, especially now after what happened, for the wellbeing not only of my wife but of our child as well! And now Belle tells me that those feelings of absolute terror only increase once the little creature is out and walking about! How will I ever survive this?!_

_Still, I am thrilled and am pushing my fears away so as not to let them ruin this amazing experience. Tricia really is glowing, and despite some queasiness during the mornings is looking wonderful and happy and we are both so looking forward to being parents. Though I have noticed that Belle tends to laugh whenever we comment on this—I don't quite understand why._

_I will close off now Hannibal. I hope this letter helps you to find your footing again and that you continue to do whatever you need to in order to stay sane and safe and healthy! It seems inappropriate somehow to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and a Merry Christmas, but I do so anyways in the hope that you will keep them in your heart as we all do you—on those days as on all days. Take care._

_David._

Then David folded the letter, and got it prepared to send off with the next mail run in the morning. He hoped that it would help his friend get back to his usual self assurance and that it didn't come across as too preachy! He knew he could be a pest sometimes—everyone told him so! But that was the problem with caring about people so much; it was really difficult to just back off and let them find their own way. Especially when they can be as stubborn and bull-headed as….well…stubborn!

Trish had headed off to bed some time ago, so with the night closing in and cooling off, David shut down the stove, took the light and made his way off to bed himself. Tomorrow was another day.

Heyes was grumbling. His mood had not much improved and though he put in his time over at the infirmary, he felt like an imposter, like he really had no business being there. But Morin was supportive and kept him busy doing menial tasks until his self-confidence had a chance to re-assert itself. The Doc knew that it would. Heyes was far too egocentric and vivacious for it to not do so; it would just take some time, and let's face it, Heyes had a lot of that on his hands.

Still, when Sunday rolled around all Heyes really wanted to do was sit in his cell and read. He did not want to go to services! He did not believe in the doctrine and he found the lectures boring and elementary though he had to admit that he did enjoy the singing. Still, he was in no mood for song at that time and would probably just sit in the back row and send out dark vibes to anyone within range! So why bother?

He had pretty much decided that he was going to skip the sermon even though he had promised to go and was going to just do what he felt like doing; sit in his cell and read. Then a guard was standing in his open doorway and Heyes looked up to meet Kenny's eyes. Briefly. Dammit! Doesn't that man ever take a day off?

"Convict! Follow me."

Ohhh, grumble, grumble, grumble. Heyes reluctantly got to his feet and did as instructed. He had no choice now, he had to go. And off to the chapel he went. Kenny stayed with him long enough to make sure he got seated and settled in and then sent him a look that told him that he better stay put. Then the guard turned on his heel and walked away to carry on with his other duties. Yeah, fine for him! He could just leave! But Heyes had to sit here and listen to this rhetoric and he was determined to be miserable.

Dr. Slosson shortly arrived at the pulpit and began her lecture. She had such a manner about her when speaking to the assembly that each convict was sure that she was speaking to him alone. She made her sermons rousing and sometimes rambunctious, filled with tidbits of humour and references to everyday occurrences, often quoting from well-known authors of the day and using examples from their adventurous stories to make her point more plausible. Indeed, if Heyes hadn't already decided to stay in his foul mood he might actually have enjoyed himself.

But then Dr. Slosson did something new and Heyes couldn't help but have his interest piqued. She brought out a music box and set it up on a desk so that the sound would carry throughout the chapel and everyone who wished could stay and listen to her selection.

Heyes enjoyed music when he could get it but there hadn't been too much opportunity to indulge in that pastime in the lifestyle that he'd led. So seeing the music box being set up and the discs being prepared to send forth their melodious tones he suddenly found himself sitting up straighter and leaning forward in anticipation.

Then Dr. Slosson made a simple introduction that Heyes would never forget simply because of the whole new world it opened up for him, so unexpectedly.

"I am now going to play for you a violin concerto in D major, by Pyotr Tchaikovsky."

And then the music—grainy and tinny at best, but still glorious and impossible washed over Heyes and it enveloped him and assaulted his senses in a way that he could never have imagined. He had never heard a violin played in such a manner before, would never have thought that it could be played in such a manner! The notes were so stringent and harsh and grating on the nerves and yet wonderful and overwhelmingly chaotic! How is it that an instrument could be pushed to such ear shattering heights and yet be so soothing to the soul? His heart raced when the tempo plunged ahead and then soared with the floating lace of the bow and then the crazy notes would jump in again and spiral you down to the depths, but then catch you and bring you back up to the height of ecstasy to leave you floating in the clouds, your senses aware only of the music in your mind.

Heyes would sit and listen to that music being played on the old music box and imagine himself hearing it the way it should be heard; being played by the Vienna Symphony Orchestra while making its North American Tour and coming to the large acoustically designed auditorium in Denver, and Heyes could easily see buying tickets for himself and his friends, Jed, David and probably Steven too and of course they would all have their wives with them and they would go and listen to Tchaikovsky. To listen to his music the way it was ment to be listened to—being played by a live orchestra and using instruments of the finest quality in a concert hall designed specifically for that purpose! And Heyes would sit back in his cushioned seat with his eyes closed and his fingers laced with a small smile playing about his lips and he knew that he was home. That he was surrounded by friends and family who had helped him to find his way back from the abyss and that he was happy. And he would remember back.

Remember back to that day in the chapel of the Wyoming Territorial Prison, when Dr. Slosson, the lady reverent introduced him to the most wondrous sounds he'd ever heard; sounds and notes and melodies that would stay in his mind and keep him sane. And in those times when the loneliness and the fear and the pain of his existence would become almost too much to bear he would let his mind disappear into that music and he would go somewhere else and he would be free.

Heyes started going back to Sunday services just about every week after that. Dr. Slosson brought in other recordings of the classical masters; Beethoven, Mozart, Bach and Chopin but Tchaikovsky remained his favorite and given the chance he would sit for hours and listen to the violin and piano take his reality away for just a little while.

Then, to give Heyes even more incentive to keep on coming back, Dr. Slosson decided to give him something a little more challenging for his intellect than what her normal lectures could offer.

One Sunday after the service was completed, she once again had Kenny escort her to Heyes' cell, and once again that inmate was startled into scrambling to his feet. And he found himself yet again feeling awkward with this woman who seemed intent on singling him out and not allowing him the option of sinking into despair.

"Mr. Heyes." She greeted him with a warm smile. "I trust you got something out of the sermon today."

"Oh, yes Ma'am." Heyes answered her.

"And what did you take away with you from the lecture this time?"

"Ohh! Uhmmm." Heyes had to think about that for a minute. "Well." He began, matter-of-factly. "That apparently even Christians enjoy sex, Ma'am."

The Doctor's smile broadened. Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Yes! You're right." She agreed with a laugh. "That is certainly one way of looking at it!"

"Oh. Yes Ma'am." And Heyes smiled back.

"I thought that I might offer you another opportunity to exercise that rather brilliant mind of yours Mr. Heyes." She informed him and Heyes tried to look serious again. "Dr. Morin tells me that you like to play with words and that you easily retain most of the complex medical information that you read in the journals he loans you. Obviously you have quite the thirsty intellect."

"Ahhh, yes Ma'am." Heyes creased his brow, not really sure where this was going.

She reached into her pocket and brought out a single, folded sheet of paper.

"I thought that I might help you to quench that thirst and perhaps have a bit of fun at the same time." She explained. "If you would like, I can give you a new word every week or so and then the following week you can return the word to me with the definition and a sentence with that word being used. Does that sound like something you might find interesting?"

"I don't know." Heyes admitted, having been caught flat-footed. "If I don't know the meaning of the word how am I supposed to use it in a sentence?"

Dr. Slosson smiled. "There-in lays the challenge, Mr. Heyes. You must use your resources to discover the definition."

"Ohh, I see." Heyes smiled.

Dr. Slosson offered him the folded sheet of paper and Heyes accepted it and opened it up to take a look at the word written up on the top of the page. 'Impecunious'.

"Im-pec-u-ni-ous." Heyes sounded the word out. Both he and Kenny looked confused. "What does that mean?" Heyes asked and then laughed. "OH! Ha ha, right."

"So, next week, after service, I expect you to be able to tell me what it means." Dr. Slosson reminded him. "Have fun with it, Mr. Heyes."

"Yeah, ummm hmmm." Heyes nodded, and looking down at the word and rolling it around in his mouth a few times he didn't even notice that his company had left.

That evening after supper, Heyes lay back on his cot with an arm behind his head and looked up at the ceiling without really seeing it. David's letter lay open on his side table and Heyes was contemplating the words of comfort and support that his friend had sent him. He had to admit that they did make sense and that if David himself, who was about the best doctor Heyes had ever come across, could lose a patient for no apparent reason then who was Heyes to think he should be able to do better? He also appreciated the ingenious way David had turned things around to put the responsibility onto Heyes himself to help both of them recover from their similar experiences. It kind of made them equals, each helping the other rather than David coming across as superior and the one who was in control. Heyes always knew that David was a smart man.

David was right of course; Heyes did enjoy being over at the infirmary. There was the constant learning curve which Heyes found exciting and it was also satisfying to some degree to see how medical techniques were applied and how they (usually) worked. Now he had even more incentive to carry on at the infirmary; Dr. Morin and his stash of books were about the only resource he could think of to help him define his new words! David could probably help him, but a week wasn't long enough to send a letter to him and get the response, so he would have to rely on resources that were here at the prison. Heyes smiled; he was feeling better already. This was going to be fun.

Then Heyes sighed. A year in the life. He still found it difficult to wrap his mind around the fact that he had been in this place for a year. Part of it seemed as though it were just yesterday that he had first arrived and had received his 'instruction' on what the rules were. But then another part of him felt as though he'd already been here for an eternity and that his previous life was just a dream.

It just didn't seem logical that these walls could contain him; it felt as though he should be able to walk out the front gate and leave here whenever he wanted to, just like the Kid did. So why couldn't he do it? Why couldn't he just leave? Then he gave a soft snort. Maybe it had something to do with the locked doors and all the guns pointed in his direction. Yet it just didn't seem real. It felt like a nightmare—a dreamscape, but one that he was trapped in and all the conning and silver tongued bantering wasn't giving him the golden key that would allow him to unlock the dream and ultimately escape from it.

He sighed and shifted a little bit to get more comfortable. It was starting to get chilly at nights again and he contemplated getting up and pulling on his sweater but decided against it for the moment. He reflected back on this past year, on all the things that had come and gone that had made the days turn into weeks, the weeks into months and now that big leap of the months dragging into years.

He thought about the friends he'd made here—something he never had anticipated before his arrival; who would think that one could actually make friends in prison? But he had. Kenny was the oddest example—a guard?! And were they actually friends? No, not really. Allies? Hmmm, again; no, but—well, maybe. A comrade in arms perhaps, standing on opposite sides of the line, but living under a truce? Maybe again. But Heyes trusted him and in here, that ment a lot!

Doc Morin—yeah! He had become a friend and a bit of a mentor for that matter. Certainly not someone whom Heyes would have been drawn to on the outside of these walls, but in here they had been two lonely souls attracted to each other. Now there was a bond between them, one built on trust and mutual respect. Morin didn't treat Heyes like a prisoner; he treated him like an equal and Heyes reciprocated.

The Reverent Mrs. May Preston Slosson—now there was an oddity! She had come forward to help Heyes find his footing again, even if he hadn't wanted her to. She just wasn't gonna take 'no' for an answer. So, in a way, perhaps she was a friend of sorts. A very distant and 'out of reach' type of friend but still, in here you took what you could get!

Sister Julia—most definitely a friend! But then she had known Heyes before he came to this place, but still she hadn't turned away from him once she learned his true identity. In fact it didn't seem to have made any difference at all in her feelings towards him. She had still been willing to stand by him and give assistance wherever she could. And if Doc Morin were to be believed, it was the Sister who had pulled Heyes through his illness. So yes—most definitely a friend!

His enemies were a lot easier to identify. Carson was the biggest thorn in Heyes' side. There was just no telling what that guard was going to do and Heyes always got the shivers when the senior guard got too close to him. The man enjoyed being a bully and he had the power and position to exercise that right whenever he choose to do so. As far as Heyes was concerned that made him more dangerous than anybody else here—himself included!

Murrey and Pearson, well they were more like non-entities. They were too junior to have any real power—they just followed orders. It was who was giving the orders that dictated what actions those two would take. Heyes figured they weren't bad fellas, just working for a living. Heyes hadn't forgotten that one of them (couldn't remember which one now) had given him and Kid extra time during their visit because Kid had obviously been feeling the need to talk. Although Murrey did tend to be a bit of a brown-noser. Oh well.

Thompson! Now there was a young man worth watching out for! Another one who had obviously hired on as a guard so he'd be able to exercise his need to beat people up without ending up behind bars himself! Heyes dreaded to think what life could become if he and Carson decided to buddy up! Jeez—no self-respecting inmate would be safe!

And of course, Boeman and Harris could not be counted out. Just because they had backed off for now didn't make them harmless. Boeman wasn't going to accept being trampled by Heyes and sooner or later that convict would be after his own form of retribution. Heyes kept his eyes on those two.

And then there's the Warden. Well, if ya' gotta have enemies ya' may as well start at the top! Heyes was still throwing tidbits at the man, but he could tell that the Warden was loosing patience. He knew Heyes was just playing him and Heyes wondered what would happen the first time he got wind of something really important but kept the information to himself. But then, what would happen if he got wind of something important and he snitched?

Another sigh. This time he did get up to pull his sweater on. He wished he had more cookies. It was beginning to get dark inside the prison now, though the lights out in the isle way were still lit and it would be a while yet before the night time lock down. The prison was quiet, just the occasional cough floating up from somewhere, and the ever present footsteps of one of the guards making the rounds.

Heyes considered lighting his own candle but decided to save it for when he felt like reading or writing a letter. He settled back onto his cot again and allowed his mind to wander. Much safer in here to do that than out in the yard—he didn't have to watch his back when it was lying on the cot.

Yes, he had definitely made some enemies in here, but he knew who they were. And he knew who his friends were as well and that was equally as important. He had learned the rules and he had learned how to circumvent them. He had also learned how to manipulate the punishments as a means to an end, how to use them to send out the message loud and clear that he was a force to be reckoned with, that he was actually someone to be feared. He'd learned how to weigh the pros and cons; knowing that if he broke any of the rules then he could expect certain punishments and was accepting the punishment worth breaking the rule?

It was a game of strategy and Heyes played the game well. He still knew how to extract his own form of retribution on other inmates if they got on the wrong side of him, but the longer he was there, the less times he had to do it. The other inmates got the message and pretty much left him alone.

Yes, the past year had been quite a learning curve for the ex-outlaw leader but he had learned the rules and the subtle strategies and he'd learned them well. And even though, through his own bull-headedness and his strong sense of loyalty he would suffer the indignities of other punishments, it would be some time before Hannibal Heyes found himself in the dark cell again. But on that occasion it would not be for punishment, it would be out of revenge.

TO BE CONTINUED


	21. Chapter 21

Awakening

Sister Julia sat at her small desk in her sparse room at the convent, contemplating a very odd letter. She really wasn't quite sure what to make of it and she had a feeling that there was a lot more to it than just what was written on the sheet of paper.

_Dear Sister Julia;_

_My name is Beth Jordan and I am a friend of both Thaddeus and Joshua just as I believe you are._

_I am interested in writing an exposé on prison life, but of course going through official channels would be self-defeating since I'm sure the Warden would only show me what he wanted me to see—if he allowed me into the prison at all. _

_Thaddeus has spoken of you often and with a great deal of respect, so it occurred to me that you might be willing to escort me into the prison in the guise of one of your novices. In this way I would be safe from harm, I'm sure but I would also be able to get a more realistic view of what life is like for the prisoners. From what I have heard from Thaddeus about conditions in that horrid place, I think it is time for the system to be challenged and hopefully some reforms brought into place!_

_I am much older than I look, so it would not appear out of place for me to be a novice under your guardianship and I am quite willing to accept responsibility if by chance I am found out. I just feel that this is very important and that someone must step up and do something about what goes on behind locked doors!_

_I would also appreciate you not mentioning this to either Joshua or Thaddeus. For one thing I don't want Joshua to feel uncomfortable knowing that I was there and watching him—I would hardly be getting a true experience of prison life if that were the case. He would try to sugar coat it in order to protect me and that is not the idea at all! Thaddeus would try to prevent me from going in the first place, and again though it would be out of an effort to protect me it can be quite infuriating sometimes!_

_They first came to know me as a young girl and I think that neither one of them can get used to the idea that I am now an adult and quite capable of making decision for myself. So please, if you are agreeable to helping me with this task, I again ask that you not discuss this with either of my friends as I know they would both try to hinder me._

_I will be in Denver Colorado for Thanksgiving so if you would be so kind as to send me your response to my friend Miss Clementine Hale who resides in Denver then I will be sure to receive it. If you are agreeable to my request I would like to meet with you shortly after that holiday as I really feel it is important to start my investigation as quickly as possible._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Beth Jordan._

The Sister continued to sit for some time contemplating this letter. As mentioned before, she really did not know what to make of it. Obviously the young woman was a friend to both Joshua and Thaddeus and cared about what Joshua was going through, but her request that the Sister not inform either of them of her intentions set off some quiet alarm bells.

The only thing that stopped her from disregarding the letter altogether was the fact that she herself found conditions at the prison difficult to ignore and it often pained her to see the suffering that was inflicted upon the inmates. She had thought of raising a protest herself on some of the injustices she had witnessed there, but then she feared that if she did so she would not be permitted to return and that was not acceptable. She truly felt, and rightly so that her work in the prison infirmary was important and that she was needed there. So she carried on and played by the rules and tried not to see the things that she saw.

Now this letter had arrived. Part of her wanted to play it safe and refuse to assist this young woman in her quest, but another part was getting tired of playing it safe and that here, possibly was someone who, with just a little help from her could actually make a difference.

The Sister decided that she would think on it awhile—but not too long as the Thanksgiving holiday was fast approaching and Miss Jordan would need her answer soon. But the morning would still be soon enough, and Sister Julia set the letter aside and prepared to settle in for the night.

"Hey Doc, what does 'impecunious' mean?"

"Impecunious?"

"Yeah."

"How the hell should I know?"

"Well, you're an educated man."

"Who the fxxk told you that!?"

"Well you're a doctor!"

"And I got my training from the school of hard knocks! I might have been drunk, but I do know I told you that much! I had a hard enough time learning medical terms, why the fxxk would I go outta my way to learn what impec…whatever, means?"

"Oh." Heyes was disappointed. "Any idea how I could find out?"

"Hell! I donno!" Then Morin sighed and forced himself to think about it for a minute. "Why don't ya' try the dictionary? They got lots of words in there that don't mean anything."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "You got one?"

"Nope."

"Any ideas where I could find one?" Heyes was getting frustrated.

"How about a library?" Morin answered with a bit of sarcasm. He didn't know why Heyes' request for information was irritating him, but it was. Maybe it was because the young man was always asking for information, always wanting to learn more and it tended to make the Doc feel a little intimidated. But of course, he wasn't going to admit that!

"Yeah." Heyes agreed again. "It's just that the library here doesn't have much in it and I don't recall seeing a dictionary there."

Morin sighed again; obviously this wasn't going to go away. "Okay, what about that lady chaplain? She's all high educated, there's a pretty good chance she'd know what it means."

Heyes' shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I think it's a pretty good bet that she does know what it means."

"Well then, there ya' go!" And Morin moved off to tend to other duties, thereby ending the conversation.

That evening, after supper Heyes made his way down to the prison library and did a quick scan of the books that were on the shelf. To his surprise he did come across a dictionary, but then to his disappointment it was quite elementary and didn't help to further his education any more than the Doc had.

Heyes ambled back to his cell and settled in for the evening. He sat down on his cot and with knees drawn up and his chin resting on a hand, he contemplated his options. He could think of a number of ways to discover the meaning of the word, but they all would take time and his time was running out. Kenny was about the best educated man amongst the guards and he didn't know what it meant and Heyes sure wasn't about to ask Carson even if he did get an opportunity to talk to the man without ending up covered in bruises!

Hmm, what to do? Heyes had to admit that he was stumped on this one, at least for the time being and tried to put his mind onto other matters. Unfortunately by the time lights out and lockdown came about, Heyes was still stuck on his word and couldn't get his brain to leave it alone. He was starting to get angry with himself. Not because he didn't know the meaning, but because here he was, once again with his mind running amok and not listening to him when he told it to please shut down for the night!

Later that night, after lights Heyes was lying in bed and for the first time that season, began to shiver under his blanket. It was definitely getting colder and he realized that if he was going to get any sleep at all then he better make the effort now to layer up his clothing. The temperatures during the night were only going to get chillier and his friends' requests that he stay warm and well fed during the winter months were actually starting to have an impact on him.

He pulled on his sweater, his socks and his new knitted toque and settled back into bed. Now he was too warm. Big sigh. Off came the toque and down went the blanket. There, that was more comfortable. He'd probably be pulling the blanket up again in a few hours and he kept the toque close by but for now he'd found a happy medium.

He closed his eyes and his thoughts wandered back to the Kid again and his regret over his mood of their last visit. He hoped Curry would be able to get back to see him at least one more time before winter really set in. He'd be sure to make the next visit more enjoyable cause he sure didn't want the Kid worrying about him all winter long when he wouldn't be able to get out to see him.

Heyes thought back to last winter and how miserable he was when he thought that his cousin had turned his back on him. How happy he had been when Curry finally made the trip out to come and see him. Since then Heyes realized that he had at times taken the Kid for granted and he had to remind himself to keep on reminding himself that Curry made quite a long (and what must be now, a boring) trip in order to come and visit with him. Heyes needed to let him know how important that was to him. Maybe he'd ask Kid for a dictionary for Christmas…hmmm…there's a thought…..

Next morning, after breakfast Murrey came and got Heyes for his annual trip to 'the other side of the tracks' in order to report any discoveries to the Warden. All the way through the proceedings of being searched and shackled and then escorted down the hallways, Heyes was busy racking his brain for anything of use, but not of any real importance to tell the Warden. Nothing was coming to mind.

Once he found himself actually in the Warden's office he was still trying to dredge up something, and the very skeptical expression on Mitchell's face wasn't helping.

"Are you quite sure you have nothing to report—again?" Mitchell asked him.

"Yes sir, Warden. All's quiet." Heyes insisted, and then he kinda shrugged and began scanning the bookcase along the side wall. "Well, except for the usual—you know."

"No Convict! I don't know!" Mitchell snapped. "That's why you're there! To keep me informed of what's going on—remember!?"

"Oh, yeah." Heyes mumbled, bringing his eyes away from the books. Hadn't spotted a dictionary yet. He sighed. "Well…let's see….Carson beat up on Johnston the other day cause Johnston tripped over a broom that Macintosh had just finished trimming the bristles on and the handle broke. So then Mac got mad and took a swing at Johnston but missed and ended up hitting Thompson and Thompson fell over backwards and knocked into a work table spilling tobacco all over the floor and then Harris, whom I believe is allergic to tobacco, started sneezing and his eyes were watering so he couldn't see what he was doin' and ended up tripping over that same now broken broom handle and bumped into Carson who then got pushed over into….."

"Yes! Yes! Alright!" Mitchell stopped the avalanche of descriptive narrative. "Anything of importance? Were you ever able to get into Dr. Morin's medical cabinets? Have you found anything suspicious over there?"

"Oh. No sir Warden." Heyes lied. "I checked all those cabinets like you said, but I never found nothin'."

"I find that most odd." Mitchell commented with just an edge of irritation. "I know the man is drinking on the job, I just don't understand why you haven't found any evidence—unless of course you're covering up for him."

"Honest to goodness, Warden, since you told me to go keep an eye out for Doc drinkin' I haven't seen him put liquor to lips even once."

"I find that most odd indeed." Mitchell repeated and then creased his brow in irritation as he noticed Heyes' attention drifting. "Am I boring you Convict?!"

Heyes snapped his eyes away from the book shelf.

"Oh no Warden! I was just…ah…I was…"

"Never mind!" Mitchell was beyond frustrated. "Why would that man stop drinking? I know darn well that he was but now you say that there's no alcohol in the infirmary at all!"

"Well, no, there's alcohol there." Heyes corrected him and Mitchell perked up. "You know, for disinfecting and such."

Mitchell slumped again, something just wasn't right here and he had a pretty good idea what it was. He knew darn well that Heyes was playing games with him and Mitchell was getting tired of it. It was time to put Mr. Heyes to the test and then he would see just exactly what he was going to do to this particular inmate.

Meanwhile Heyes had a mild epiphany and decided what the hell; he had nothing to lose by trying.

"Perhaps Dr. Morin is impecunious."

Mitchell looked at the inmate, creasing his forehead again. How was it that an uneducated outlaw would know that word? But then the Warden smiled inwardly and reminded himself that this was no ordinary outlaw; the man was highly intelligent and all the reports coming back to him from the officers on the floor substantiated that. Mr. Heyes was again trying to play him for a fool and something was going to have to be done about that.

"I hardly think that is the case." Mitchell answered him casually. "If it were, then it would probably be because he was spending all his money on liquor and you would be seeing some evidence of it. Don't you agree?"

"Ahhh, yes, I suppose so." Heyes agreed somewhat hesitantly. He wasn't sure if that answer helped him out much or not.

"That'll be all." Mitchell dismissed him. "Officer Murrey!"

For the rest of the afternoon Heyes was down on the work floor rolling cigars and stuffing them into boxes. Fortunately it was mindless work because his mind was definitely on something else.

Did it have to do with money? Heyes thought. Or liquor? Or the lack thereof? Or both, or neither? Hmmm. He could take the chance and submit a sentence using the word as referring to money—or liquor—or the lack thereof, but he so hated to be wrong. What if it was wrong? Damn! How could he get his hands on a dictionary? Kenny might have a dictionary, but how to ask him when you're not allowed to talk.

Suddenly a bully club whacked the edge of his table and Heyes was startled out of his musings.

"Convict! Wake up!" It was Thompson. "You sure spend a hell of a lot of time 'daydreamin'! It's a marvel to me that you get anything done at all!"

Heyes kept his eyes down and didn't say a word, but he did notice that he had been trying to stuff six cigars into a four cigar box and making quite a mess of things while doing it. Apparently even a brainless job needed some level of focus to accomplish it correctly.

Heyes quickly snatched back the boxes that were over-stuffed and began to rearrange the cigars in order to set things right. Thompson smirked and moved on. The other guards seemed to think that Heyes was something special, but Thompson hadn't noticed that so far—fella seemed a bit dim-witted to him. Heyes heard Johnston snicker beside him but a quick look from the outlaw leader wiped the grin off Johnston's face and sent his attention back to his own duties

Finally the long day was over and the inmates all headed towards the cafeteria for supper and some leisure time in the evening.

Heyes sat down to a plate full of corn beef hash and limp vegetables (couldn't tell what kind) and just about turned away from it in disgust. Then, of course he heard Belle's voice telling him to stay healthy and how worried they all were when he got sick last winter, and then David practically repeating the same message. Eat as much as you can, even if you're not hungry. Another heavy sigh. Maybe if they saw the food that was being offered they would understand why he didn't want to eat.

He looked down at the gray mess on his plate and wondered if he would ever see a nice red T-bone steak again. This muck was disgusting. Oh well, he should eat he supposed. He surely didn't want to get pneumonia again, especially after what happened to Billings. Who knows, one more bout with that infection and he just might not make it back either. But then, would that be such a bad thing?

No. Heyes shook his head and tried to convince himself to eat something. Don't think like that, he admonished himself. What did Jesse say? : At least in prison you have life and when you have life you have hope. Something like that anyways, I donno Jesse, Heyes thought. Hope seems to be dwindling away these days. Oh crap! There he was getting all morose again! Things must be pretty bad if all it took was a plate of disgusting food to bring him down into such a melancholy mood. Smarten up and eat something! So he did.

After he had eaten about as much as he could of that fare, which wasn't quite the whole plate full, but close enough (Boeman would probably finish it up for him anyways) Heyes followed his normal routine and grabbing himself a cup of coffee he headed back up to his cell to spend the evening reading. He'd found 'The Complete Works of Shakespeare', which wasn't actually complete anymore, but close enough. He was getting quite a lot of enjoyment out of reading the oddly worded English text and would often sit on his cot right up until 'lights out' and allow himself to get lost in the old world filled with intrigue and murder and plotting and of course; love.

When he arrived at his cell however, he found that someone had left another book sitting on his cot. Heyes assumed that it had been Kenny since no one else really had access to his cell—that is, no one who would care to leave him anything. Heyes tried to pick the book up with one hand, since his other hand was holding the coffee, but found that the text was far too heavy for that attempt, so he simply flipped open the front cover to see what treat he had in store.

It was a dictionary! It wasn't new, but it was intact and that's all that mattered! Actually, it was more than just a dictionary—it was a dictionary and a thesaurus all in one! Heyes had never seen such a marvelous thing! He'd never even had a thesaurus before! Ohhh, this was gonna be fun! He pushed Shakespeare out of the way, settled into his cot with his pillow against the wall, and hoisting the heavy book up onto his drawn up knees, he opened it and started to search.

Impecunious: Having no money; poor; penniless.

Heyes snorted. He could certainly relate to that!

Now all he had to do was come up with a sentence before Sunday. That shouldn't be too difficult and he would let the word play around in his mind for a couple of days and he was certain that by Sunday morning he would be able to present Dr. Slosson with his finished assignment.

For the rest of that evening he continued to flip through the heavy book and would read word after word along with their definitions right up until the buzzer sounded to indicate evening lockdown. Heyes put the book aside, stood up from his cot and went to stand by his open cell door for the head count. This had become such mundane routine that Heyes hardly noticed himself doing it anymore and he stood quietly while the guards walked by, doing their count and ticking off names.

His mind wandered again, thinking about all the words that he had come across just in that short evening of browsing. He was amazed at just how complex the English language was and how many words there were that he didn't even know about. This little challenge that Dr. Slosson had started up with him was going to be an interesting learning curve and now that he had his first word deciphered he was looking forward to Sunday in order to get going on his next one.

Thompson walked by Heyes' cell and noticing yet again the vacant look on the inmates face, he shook his head in disgust. He had actually looked forward to meeting Hannibal Heyes when he was hired on at the prison. He'd grown up reading all those dime novels about the infamous outlaw; about how brilliant he was, and how dangerous! How he could turn a grown man into jelly just by looking at him and open a locked door just by tapping it with his finger.

Geesh! How disappointing! The man was obviously an imbecile and couldn't even count high enough to package up a small box of cigars! He could certainly understand why he was given laundry duty as it kept him out of everybody else way—just how many brain cells do you need to fold a sheet after all? But how in the world he got working over in the infirmary was totally beyond Thompson—he must have polished somebody's brass the right way was all that guard could reason.

The buzzer sounded again and Heyes stepped back into his cell and stood there for a moment as he watched his cell door clang shut in unison with all the other cell doors clanging shut and then listened to the heavy locks all sliding into place at the same time. Evening lockdown really was a noisy affair! It was one thing Heyes never really did get used to, being locked into his cell at night. He was comfortable and felt safe there so long as the door was open, but the sound of the bolts sliding shut always sent a shiver of claustrophobia down his spine and though over time he had adjusted to it, he never really did forget that he was locked in.

Heyes sighed and turned back to his cot. He could still light a candle and carry on reading if he wished to, but he preferred to save his candles for when he was writing his letters. So he cleared his cot of the numerous books strewn about and settled in to try and relax and put his mind to rest for a while, which as we know, was not always an easy thing for him to do.

Darkness slowly invaded the cells as night closed in once again and after sending a few thoughts of evening solace to Abi; our hero turned on one of his favorite sonatas and listened to music in his mind until he quietly drifted off into sleep.

Throughout the next couple of days Heyes tried to catch Kenny's eye and find a way to ask him about the dictionary, but the guard was not co-operating. Then when Sunday did roll around and Heyes thought he might be able to sneak in a quick question at chapel, it turned out to be one of Kenny's days off and the guard was a no show.

This was frustrating. Heyes never could figure out the schedule of any of the guards who worked the floor. Eventually he decided that it must be on a rotating system so that way no guard ended up always working Sunday, or at night or on holidays and so on and so on. Another purpose for this was what Heyes had already found out for himself; keeping the schedules erratic would prevent the inmates from learning the pattern and thereby knowing who was going to be on when. Made an assault or escape that much more difficult to plan if you didn't know who was going to be on first.

So Heyes went to the sermon and sat through the lecture and as usual, when he allowed himself to, he did get some enjoyment out of it. Then the music box came out again and those inmates who wished to stay longer to listen to the selection for the week settled in for another hour of a musical interlude.

Heyes would again sit back and close his eyes and try to imagine what the passages would sound like when played live in a concert hall. He hoped that one day he would be able to find out but in the meantime he was able to soak up the notes as they were presented to him here and for a short time anyway, he was able to disappear into another world and drift away.

Not surprisingly he possessed the kind of mind that could hear the arrangements one time through and he would know it—he could remember them all so he could pull them up and listen to them again whenever opportunity or need presented itself. This ability would prove to be a sanity saver on more than one occasion, not to mention (as we already know) it often helped him to fall asleep at night when nothing else could.

Too quickly the hour was over and those inmates remaining began to disassemble and make their way out of the chapel, and probably down to the cafeteria to partake of something resembling lunch.

Heyes took a deep cleansing breath and opened his eyes to see Dr. Slosson being escorted in his direction with Murrey in attendance this time. The inmate smiled and stood up politely to greet the chaplain.

"Ma'am."

"Mr. Heyes." She returned the greeting. "Were you able to complete your mission?"

He smiled. "Yes Ma'am." He announced with just a hint of pride in his demeanor and then he produced the sheet of paper and presented it to her.

Dr. Slosson accepted it and read what he had written down.

'Impecunious: penniless, without money.

'The Kid and I never had to worry about being impecunious until we decided to go straight.'

She smiled. Murrey, who had read the sentence over the chaplain's shoulder sent Heyes a slightly reprimanding look. Heyes grinned.

"Very good Mr. Heyes." She congratulated him. "You certainly have an understanding of that word—though I suspect you've had some help."

"Yes Ma'am." Heyes admitted. "Use whatever resources become available, Ma'am."

Her smile broadened as she handed him another folded piece of paper.

"Let's see what you can do with this one." She challenged him. "See you next week Mr. Heyes?"

"Oh, yes Ma'am." Heyes dipped his head in thanks and in farewell as he took the proffered paper and she turned and moved away.

Heyes unfolded the paper and looked at his new word.

'Mettlesome.' Heyes frowned in concentration. He was fairly sure that he already knew the meaning of that word, but he would double check before he did anything with it. It would be most embarrassing to be wrong on the assumption that it was too easy to bother with.

Finally Heyes got a chance to talk to Kenny when that guard showed up to escort him over to the infirmary for his day of work with the Doctor. The walk over was made in silence since Heyes knew the rules well enough by this time to know not to open his mouth while still in the prison proper. Even Kenny would let him have it for that.

Once inside the infirmary however, Heyes sent the guard a quick glance and brought forth the question.

"So you know anything about a dictionary that was left in my cell last week?" He asked tentatively.

"Dictionary?" Kenny commented suspiciously. "What dictionary?" But then the guard smiled, and turning on his heel he left Heyes to his daily duties.

Heyes smiled broadly and nodded to himself; Yes, Kenny had left it.

"What are you grinnin' about?" Morin demanded. "Get over here, I need your help."

"Oh, sorry Doc."

Heyes hurried over to the examining table to find one of the new inmates sitting there with a sliced open hand. Apparently the knife used to trim the broom bristles had slipped and caused an injury. Heyes smiled to himself, but was careful not to show it; apparently this type of injury is quite common among the newbie's!

Murrey was standing quietly off to the side waiting to take his charge back to work once he was stitched up. Heyes hadn't even noticed him there until now; the man was so good at blending into the background.

"So—what do ya' think?" Morin asked his assistant. "Does it need stitches?"

Heyes took a look at the cut that had already been cleaned and disinfected, but still looked pretty nasty.

"Ahhh, yup." Heyes prognosed. "Looks that way to me."

"Good! You're right." Morin agreed. "You know where the needles and suturing thread are kept—go get some."

Heyes nodded and sent a quick look into the dark blue eyes of the patient and saw fear there. This was a young man, no older than Billings had been and he was obviously scared right down to his core at having been dropped into this new and hostile environment.

Heyes smiled quietly in reassurance.

"It's alright." He said. "It's not gonna hurt."

The newbie barely responded and was obviously still in some shock and not sure yet who he could trust and who he couldn't. Heyes felt for him alright, but there really wasn't much more he could do for him than that other than stay close to him on the work floor and give moral albeit silent support wherever he could.

Heyes went over to the counter and opened the cabinet containing the supplies that Morin had asked for, and then stopped dead in his tracks. Right there in the cabinet beside the suturing thread was an unopened bottle of whiskey. Heyes swallowed nervously and sent a quick glance back towards the doctor, but that man was busy sprinkling powder over the wound and wasn't paying any attention to his assistant.

Heyes quickly gathered up the supplies, grabbed a role of gauze as well, gently closed the cabinet door and then returned to assist Morin with the injury. He sent a furtive glance to Murrey, hoping the guard hadn't seen anything and by the guard's bored expression and casual stance, it would appear to be a safe bet.

Heyes held the young man's hand steady while Morin stitched the lips of the cut together and then wrapped it in gauze and then some bandaging.

"There ya' go Ames." Morin stated. "You're fine to go back to work." Then he looked over to the guard. "Maybe just get him packaging cigars or something else light for the rest of the week, alright?"

"Yeah, sure Doc." Murrey agreed without too much conviction. "I'll see what we can do."

Ames smiled weakly in thanks and then got to his feet, though a little unsteady. More nerves than injury, Heyes surmised as he gave the young man a smile and a pat on the back. Then Murrey had the new inmate by the arm and was heading him back towards the exit. Heyes and Morin watched them leave.

"Seems like a nice enough kid." Heyes mentioned. "What's he in for?"

"Apparently he likes to set fire to things." Morin informed his assistant. "Burned their school-house to the ground. Fortunately the only one inside at the time was the schoolmarm and she only made it out because some of the older students saw the flames and were able to run in and get her. Apparently she had been knocked unconscious."

"Oh." Heyes commented dryly. "No candles for him then."

The two men exchanged glances and then both looked towards the door where Murrey and the inmate had exited the infirmary.

"Yeah well, back to work." Morin mumbled. "Not too much for ya' to do today Heyes, baring the unexpected so I guess you can just tidy up in here and make sure all the supplies are topped up, you know."

"Yeah." Heyes replied, and then a little hesitantly, continued. "Ahhh, you been replenishing the liquor supply Doc?"

Morin sent him a confused and slightly irritated look. "What do ya' mean by that?" He demanded.

"Well…" Heyes was almost shuffling his feet. "When I was getting those supplies for ya' I came across a whiskey bottle over in the cabinet."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?!"

"Are you sayin' you didn't put it there?" Heyes asked hopefully.

But Morin was already on the move, heading over to the cabinets. By the time Heyes caught up with him, he had the drawer open and was staring at the bottle laying there.

"Fxxk!" Morin swore. "How the hell did that get in there?!"

"So it's not yours?" Heyes asked.

"Hell no!" Morin retorted. "Ya' think I wanna' loose my job?!" But then he rubbed his chin and looked contemplative. "Still, since it's here—do ya' wanna'…"

"NO!" Heyes had to be strong for both of them, because he had to admit, he was pretty tempted as well. It'd been a long time since he'd had a decent shot of whiskey. But…"No Doc, we can't. Obviously someone has planted it here to set you up. You start actually drinkin' it then you'll just be walking right into the trap."

"Hmmmm." Morin sounded disappointed. "I suppose you're right. But who the hell would do that? I get along fine with everyone here—well, pretty much. Who'd want to see me get fired?"

"I donno." Heyes admitted. "It doesn't make sense." Then he stopped, and frowned as another reason occurred to him. "Unless it's not you they're trying ta' set up."

"Well who else?"

"Me." Heyes answered bluntly. "The Warden can't understand why I'm not finding any evidence of your drinking cause he knows ya' are—or were. He came right out and suggested that I was covering up for ya'. Of course I denied it but I don't think he believed me. Now, I'm pretty sure he didn't believe me."

"Sxxt!" Morin swore again. "Now what?"

"I donno. If I don't tell him about this then he'll know for sure that I've been covering for ya', but if I do tell him then you'll loose your job." Heyes sighed. "Let me think on it for a bit Doc, I'll figure something out." Then he smiled. "I always do."

Next morning, Heyes caught Murrey's attention and silently let him know that he wanted to go see the Warden. Murrey smiled slightly and sent him a subtle nod and then went off to see it if would be convenient for his boss at that time. Heyes' eyes narrowed slightly at the guard's apparent satisfaction at the request and decided that it was time he began to pay a little more attention to what that guard got up to when not on the work floor.

Two hours later Heyes once again found himself standing in front of the Warden's desk, trying to look servile. Mitchell was seeping superiority. He sent the convict a knowing smile.

"Have you something you wish to report?" He asked the inmate.

"Ahhh, yes sir Warden." Heyes admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. "But ya' gotta agree ya' won't punish me."

"Punish you." Mitchell repeated. "Why would I do that Convict, unless you are guilty of some misconduct?"

"Yes…well…" Again Heyes looked as though he was gonna shuffle his feet and kept his eyes averted from the Warden, putting on the air of a guilty conscience. "Ya' gotta agree ya' won't punish me."

"You are hardly in a position to make demands, Convict." Mitchell pointed out. "Tell me what you know and then I will decide if the information is worth ignoring any misconduct that you have committed."

Heyes gave a resigned sigh, apparently giving in to the Warden's 'superiority'.

"Well, ahhh…" Heyes began. "A couple of evenings ago—I can't remember which one—I kinda snuck over to the infirmary. I know I shouldn't a' done it—but I had a splitting headache and I know that Doc keeps some real good painkillers over there, so…."

"How did you get through the locked doors?" Mitchell asked and Heyes raised his eyebrows as though that answer should be obvious—and obviously it was because Mitchell quickly shook his head and waved the question away. "Yes, yes—never mind. So what happened?"

"Well, Doc had gone home by then, so I was just rummaging around for some of those painkillers when I heard the far door unlocking so I quickly hid until I could see who it was."

Mitchell suddenly was looking a little uncomfortable and shifted in his leather chair.

"So who was it?" He asked.

"I couldn't tell 'cause it was getting dark in there, but I could see what he was doing."

"Yes?"

"He went over to the counters and I heard him open up the cabinet there, the one that isn't kept locked and then he opened up a small satchel he had with him and took out a bottle of something. I couldn't see what kind of bottle, but I knew it was a bottle. And then he put it in the cabinet, closed everything up and left the same way he'd come in."

Mitchell nodded. "And you don't know who it was?"

"No. It was dark and I couldn't see his face."

"That's very interesting Convict." Mitchell stated. "So what did you do next?"

"Well, I made sure that the guard…."

"How do you know it was a guard? You said you couldn't see him."

"No, no, I couldn't see his face." Heyes explained. "But he was wearing a guard's uniform, I could tell that much just from his silhouette."

"Right." Mitchell conceded with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. "Continue."

"As I was sayin'; I made sure the guard was well gone and not comin' back and then I went over to that cabinet and opened the drawer and wouldn't ya' know; there was a bottle of whiskey in there!"

"Indeed?" Mitchell commented. "And how do you know that the bottle of whiskey hadn't already been there for some time? As I have already told you, Dr. Morin does tend to drink while on the job." The Warden smiled. "You may have just given me the evidence I need to fire the man."

"No, I don't think so." Heyes disagreed, though looking a little uncertain. "I mean, I saw the guard put a bottle in that drawer and that was the only bottle in there. If it had already been there then I would have found two bottles of something. Right?"

Mitchell signed. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that."

"Yeah." Heyes nodded enthusiastically. "Seems to me somebody's trying to set the Doc up or somethin'. Don't know why anyone would want to do that though. Still, now even if I were to find any more bottles laying around I'd be real suspicious of them being legitimate—if ya' get my meanin'."

Mitchell's jaw tightened irritably. "Yes, I suppose you have a point."

Heyes smiled broadly, puffing himself up with a job well done.

"So." He surmised hopefully. "We can just forget about me bein' there after hours an' all? 'Cause if we can pretend that I wasn't there, then we can pretend that nothin' else happened either…right?"

Mitchell sent Heyes a suspicious look. "Are you threatening me Convict?"

"Threatening you, Warden?" Heyes asked, and then smiled innocently. "Why would I be threatening you?"

"Right." Mitchell agreed, but he did not look pleased. "I will keep this information confidential for now. You may return to your duties."

''Yessir Warden."

"Hi'ya Kid!" Heyes greeted his partner with a big smile. "How are ya'?!"

"Good Heyes." Curry answered as he sat himself down in his usual spot. "You're sure in better spirits than ya' were last time I saw ya'."

"Yeah." Heyes looked a little contrite. "I'm sorry about that Kid; I know I was kinda down. David passed along my apology didn't he?"

"Oh yeah." Curry admitted. "And I understand why, considering what had happened and the timing an' all. Ya' coulda' talked to me about it though."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes admitted. "I just wasn't ready to talk about it yet, that's all." He sighed. "I guess sometimes its easier writing stuff like that in a letter rather than talkin' face ta' face."

"Uh huh." Kid sorta agreed. "I have to admit it was good for David to get that letter from ya'. He was kinda' goin' through a hard time himself right around then. I get the feelin' the two of ya' talked it out?"

"Yeah, we did." Heyes admitted. "It was good."

"Good." Then Kid smiled. "I got some good news for ya' Heyes."

"Oh yeah?" Heyes asked. "Did Judge Parsons finally see the light and is going to rescind my sentence and let me live my life as a free man?"

Curry looked disappointed. "Well, no. Not that good."

Heyes smiled. "I was just ribbin' ya Kid. I knew it couldn't be that good. So what is the good news?"

"Well now that you've taken the 'umph' outa it, it don't seem all that important anymore."

"Oh no Kid! C'mon." Heyes insisted. "I was just teasin' ya'! Don't leave me in suspense. What is it?"

Curry smiled again. "Well we were right Heyes." He informed his cousin. "President Cleveland finally got fed up with Warren and some of the business dealings he was involved in, and booted him outa office."

"Oh." Heyes responded, suddenly quite serious. "So Warren's not the governor of Wyoming anymore? That is good news."

"Yeah. A fella by the name of George Baxter is in office now." Curry explained. "Lom and Steven and me already have an appointment to go speak with him early in the New Year. And I tell ya' there's gonna have ta' be an avalanche covering the train tracks to prevent me from being there!"

Heyes looked disappointed. "The New Year? Ya' couldn't get in sooner than that?"

"No Heyes, Steven tried." Curry explained. "I guess Warren left quite a mess behind and this new fella is already swamped with complaints and people wanting to see him. We got the earliest appointment we could."

Heyes smiled, realizing his friends were doing everything possible to help him out. "Yeah, that's good Kid." He thanked him. "Let's hope he's more agreeable to our situation than Warren was."

"Couldn't be worse."

Heyes raised his brows and nodded in agreement.

"How are the girls?" He asked.

"They're fine Heyes." Curry assured him. "Beth is all excited about spending Thanksgiving with Clem and Bridget." He smiled mischievously. "She's fun to watch. I just hope she doesn't get herself into trouble, this being her first time kinda on her own. Clem isn't what you might call a 'strict' chaperone."

Heyes laughed. "Uh huh! And those two girls can get quite rambunctious when they're out on their own. And knowin' Clem any trouble they get into, she'll be right up to her neck in there with them!"

Kid smiled. "Yup." He agreed. "Still, Steven will be there to make sure they behave themselves."

"Hmmm." Heyes nodded. "So how are you doin' Kid?" He asked, changing the subject. "You workin'—keepin' busy?"

"Oh yeah!" Kid agreed emphatically. "The problem with ranch work is that there is always somethin' that needs doin'! One thing ya' gotta promise me Heyes is that when you get outta here, we're not gonna buy ourselves a ranch!"

Heyes smiled. "I promise. It's good that Jesse keeps you working though—and payin' ya' as well! I'd hate to think that you were impecunious now after all we've been through. Although, I know how mettlesome you get once the gloaming sets in. Are you behaving yourself and staying away from the meretricious side of town these days?"

Kid sat still as stone and stared at Heyes with his mouth open, not quite sure what he had just heard and no idea as to how he should respond to it. Finally he looked away and he and Pearson locked eyes for an instant. Pearson shrugged—he had no idea either. Curry looked back into Heyes' enquiring gaze.

"So—what's your answer?" Heyes asked innocently.

"What's my answer!?" Demanded the Kid. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THE QUESTION?!"

"I simply stated that I would hate to think that you were broke, but I also know how restless you get once evening settles in and I hope that you are staying away from the brothel—or at least that part of town."

"Heyes, there wasn't nothin' simple about that question." Kid pointed out. "What the hell are you doin' anyways? Reading a dictionary from cover to cover or something?!"

Heyes grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Yeah, something like that!"

Curry waited for a further explanation. Heyes relented, though teasing his cousin had been kinda' enjoyable.

"Apparently the Reverent here felt that I needed some mental stimulation, so she gives me a new word every week to decipher and put into a sentence." He explained. "It's kinda' been fun, Kid—you should try it."

"Uh huh." Curry didn't look too enthusiastic. "Ya' mean she has actually found words that you don't know the meaning of?"

"I know! Amazing isn't it!?"

Kid rolled his eyes; his cousin's head was startin' to swell up again.

"So how do ya' figure out what they mean?" He asked. "Ya' got a dictionary or somethin' in there?"

"Well I didn't at first." Heyes admitted. "And it was proving to be quite a dilemma. I was even thinking of asking you for one for Christmas. But then somebody else beat ya' to it."

"Oh yeah?" Kid asked, feeling a little resentful. "Who?"

"I'm pretty sure it was Kenny, but he won't admit to it." Heyes surmised. "I went back to my cell one evening after supper and a dictionary and a thesaurus was sitting on my cot."

"What the hell is a 'thesaurus'?" Kid asked. "Sounds like it oughta be extinct."

"Oh." Heyes answered, taking on an important air. "Well a 'thesaurus' is a book that gives ya' samples of different words that mean the same thing."

"Oh." Kid rolled his eyes. "Great! Now you're gonna be giving me even more words that don't make no sense. Why don't ya' just use the same words the rest of the world uses Heyes?! You'd be a hell of a lot easier to put up with!"

"Don't ya' wanna learn new words Kid?" Heyes asked him, a little disappointed.

"Why?" Kid sent back to him. "I can communicate good enough with what I got. Geesh! No wonder your head is so swollen all the time—all those big words floaten' around in there!"

"Oh." Heyes mumbled, looking down at his shackled hands.

Kid instantly felt contrite. Here he had been telling Kenny that Heyes needed something new to get him out of his depression and now that he had, Curry was complaining about it.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Heyes." Kid apologized. "You're right." Heyes perked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe this is something we can do together. The lady Reverent gives you words to decipher, then you can pass them on to me and then I'll take 'em home and figure 'em out too."

Heyes' small smile grew into a big dimpled grin. "Yeah! There ya' go Kid—it'll be fun!"

Kid smiled and nodded, though 'fun' wasn't exactly the word he had in mind.

"I hate to say it though Heyes." Kid reminded him. "But with the way the temperature has been dropping we could get hit with some heavy weather soon. I may not be able to get out here next month."

"I know." Heyes admitted. "I'm trying not to think about it. Still, when that happens I'll send them along in a letter. The mail slows down in the winter but it does usually get through eventually."

"Yeah, that's true."

So the two cousins finished up their visit and then each went their separate ways. It had been a little harder this time, saying goodbye since they didn't really know when they would be able to see one another again, but eventually they had to part company and accept the inevitable.

Heyes headed back to his cell to read since it was too cold outside to make a walk around the parameter anything akin to pleasant. He really was not looking forward to another winter here in the prison as he had no problem remember just how cold it had become the previous year. Still, he surmised, he was better prepared for it this year, with more knitted clothing and, well, maybe not so much a layer of fat as just not so much ribcage showing. Plus, he had a better idea of his place in the scheme of things; he wasn't the new fish out of water anymore. He'd be alright.

Thanksgiving came and went without so much as a ripple. The prisoners had turkey and fixing's for supper on that evening and the Sunday sermon was a little different in its message. But all in all it was just another day. Then in the week that followed the holiday Heyes found himself down on the work floor as usual, back to making brooms again. Ho hum. Nothing changes.

Then all of a sudden, one quiet morning, pandemonium broke out, which is pretty much the way it does happen when it's going to. Since there was no talking allowed, when a dispute develops between the inmates, it's usually a silent one and nobody other than the two adversaries is even aware of a disagreement until the fists start flying. And that's what happened this time.

Heyes didn't know what it was about nor even who was involved and he didn't want to know. He had enough to deal with without getting involved in another man's dispute. Unfortunately it did not take long for the other inmates on the floor to get caught up in the action and pretty soon they had made a human circle around the two combatants and were making it very difficult for the guards to get in there and break it up.

Before Heyes could get himself totally out of the way, he got caught up in the throng and the harder he tried to get out of it the deeper into he got pushed. Within seconds he found himself with a front row seat to the fist fight and was doing everything he could just to stay on his own feet.

The fight was getting pretty brutal, and nobody could really tell who the two combatants were. For one thing both of them had bloody noses by this time and they were so at each other that it was hard to distinguish who was who.

Then all of a sudden, the man on top grabbed one of the dull work knives from a table and before anybody could stop him he had plunged it into the torso of his adversary, then he was on his feet and disappeared into the circle of men standing and jostling around him. Heyes could see the stricken man writhing on the floor and made a run for him to see if he could help. But the guards were in amongst the throng now and were swinging their clubs to break the crowd up and send them back out of the way.

Heyes got around them just in time to see the new guard, Thompson bend over the injured man, grab the knife handle and prepare to pull it out.

"NO!" Heyes shouted and made a run for him.

Thompson looked up just in time to see Heyes coming at him and then the two men were sprawled on the floor with Heyes on top. Heyes scrambled to get away from the guard and hurried over to the injured man in hopes of being able to stop the bleeding. He grabbed a rag from one of the work tables and began to wrap it around the wound at the base of the knife handle, trying to be oh so careful not to dislodge the weapon. One thing he did know; if the knife were to be pulled out now chances were good the man would bleed to death before they could get him to the infirmary.

Heyes was scared; his confidence was at a low ebb and all he could see was the blood trying to seep through his pressure point. The wounded man (Heyes was surprised to see that it was Ames.) was gasping for breath and looked even more scared than Heyes was. He was grabbing at Heyes' tunic, his eyes pleading for the older man to help him. Heyes started to shake and gasp for air himself; a scream was building up at the back of throat and all he could see was his best friend bleeding out in his arms and the blood seeping from the bullet wound and soaking into the ground around his knees.

Then Heyes was suddenly jolted from behind; Thompson was yelling at him and grabbing the back of his tunic, trying to pull him away. To Heyes, it was just a re-enactment of Morrison grabbing him and preventing him from helping his partner. He yelled his anger and shooting up he sent his elbow back into the guards gut, sending the man staggering to crash into a work table. But then Thompson got his balance again and came at Heyes, swinging his club and swearing at him. Heyes felt the blows hit his back and shoulders, but he ignored them and continued to apply pressure to the injured man's wound hoping and praying that he was doing the right thing.

"Thompson!" Came Reece's' angry voice. "BACK OFF!"

Then suddenly Kenny was there and he was between the guard and the inmate.

"Back off Thompson!" Kenny repeated. "Heyes is just doin' his job!"

"What do ya' mean; his job?" Thompson sneered. "That convict attacked me and he's gonna get punished for it!"

"All Heyes did was stop you from killing him!" Kenny shot back. "If you had pulled that knife out, Ames would have bled to death right here and now! So BACK OFF!"

Kenny was still standing between the three men, his hand against Thompson chest and locked into eye contact in order to exert control over the situation. Thompson was fuming, but finally he looked away and backed off from the senior guard. Kenny breathed a sigh of relief and took a quick look around.

The other inmates had been dispersed and were back at their own work stations, even though a few of them were still sending furtive glances over their way. As for the assailant, nobody was saying who he was or where he went. A quick wiping of blood off his face and back to his work station and none of the guards would know which one it was and none of the inmates were going to let on.

"How is he Heyes?" Kenny asked, kneeling down by the two men.

"I donno." Heyes admitted, still shaking from the assault. "I think I have the bleeding slowed for now, but the sooner we get him to the infirmary, the better."

"I sent Davis to go get the Doc, so he should be here any minute." Kenny told him. "So just hang on."

"Yeah."

Less than a minute later, though it seemed like an hour to Heyes, Morin finally put in an appearance and knelt down beside Ames, across from Heyes. He quickly checked the wounded man's vital signs and his pupils, then let out his breath and nodded.

"Good job Heyes. Ya' slowed the bleeding and he's still with us. Now we just have to get him back to the infirmary without causing him too much distress." Then Morin looked up to someone standing beside him. "Sister, could you take over for Heyes and keep applying pressure to the wound while we move him?"

"Of course, Doctor." Came Sister Julia's response.

Heyes looked up as well and smiled with relief at the Sister as she came around and knelt down beside her friend. He also noticed another young woman standing there, wearing the black dress and long white head covering, indicating a novice. She was standing back from the group, with her head down, obviously not wanting to get in the way and perhaps feeling a little intimidated by all these men, some quite menacing in their appearance, standing around her. Heyes dismissed her as his focus was brought back to the job at hand.

Sister Julia placed her hands over top of Heyes' and then he carefully slid his hands out from under hers and she continued to apply the pressure needed to keep the blood from flowing. Heyes breathed another sigh of relief now that these two more experienced people had taken over and he got to his feet to await further instructions.

"Okay Heyes." Morin said. "If you could grab hold of his legs, I'll get his shoulders and we can move him over to the infirmary. Alright?"

"Sure, Doc."

And so the small procession made its way back over to the medical ward. The young novice followed along behind, keeping her head down and not looking to either side but staying focused on the group in front of her. Kenny brought up the rear just to make sure they got the wounded man into the medical ward without any further mishaps.

Thompson watched the group leave with his jaw set tight in indignant anger. Carson watched Thompson, a subtle smile growing on his face. Boeman watched all of them.

Finally the small group made it over to the infirmary and Morin led the way over to an examination table and they laid the young man out on it.

"Okay." Said the Doc. "Sister, you just keep applying that pressure. Don't let up. Heyes, you know where the needles and suturing thread are, go get them please."

Everyone nodded and carried on with their tasks while Morin prepared a dosage of morphine for the patient. The young novice stayed out of the way.

Kenny approached the Doc. "Shall I take Heyes back to the work floor?" He asked. "It doesn't really look like you need him here."

"No." Morin answered him quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. "Heyes' self-confidence took a beating after what happened to Billings. I think it'll be good for him to stay here for now and help out. Come back and get him in a few hours."

Kenny looked over at Heyes getting the supplies out of the cabinet and hurrying them over to the patient and then laying a comforting hand on the man's forehead and shoulder.

Kenny nodded. "Yeah, okay Doc." He agreed. "Good luck. I'll see you after lunch."

Reece discreetly left the infirmary while Morin returned to his patient and administered the morphine.

Within minutes Ames was totally out and the three adults concentrated on withdrawing the knife and keeping the flow of blood to a minimum. All in all the procedure did not take long. Once the knife was out, Morin took the forceps and was able to find and remove the small piece of material that had been pushed into the wound by the dull knife when it entered. Then he sprinkled the whole area with morphine powder and quickly stitched the wound together.

Once that was done everyone stood back with a sigh of relief. Heyes wiped his bloody hands on his tunic and stepped back. He was still shaking from the stress and the memories all of this had brought back on to him. Geesh! Was he never going to be able to see blood again without it triggering that response? He went and sat down over by the counter before his knees gave out under him and with a deep sigh he ran his hands over his eyes and then over his scalp—he still couldn't get used to the fact that there was no hair there.

Morin supplied Sister Julia and her novice with padding and gauze and left the two ladies to get the patient bandaged up and then he turned and gave Heyes a scrutinizing look. He took a big cleansing breath and walking over to his assistant he put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Ya' did good Heyes." He told the younger man. "Your actions probably saved his life."

Heyes looked up and met Morin's eyes and then he smiled. For the first time in a long time the convict actually felt some pride in himself.

"Come child; snuggle up so we can keep each other warm."

Sister Julia opened up her warm blanket as a welcoming gesture for her young companion to tuck in beside her so they could use both their blankets and combined body heat to make the coach ride to the prison a little more comfortable. Beth smiled. Though she had her own blanket and was wearing long woolen underwear beneath her heavy black novice habit, she was still cold. The invitation to snuggle was instantly accepted and Beth moved in quickly and soon both ladies were feeling more civilized.

During the colder months, when the Sister was able to get to the prison at all, she usually stayed for a least a couple of days—longer if the need arose. There was always a comfortable room set aside for her just off the infirmary which consisted of a wood stove, a writing desk with a chair, a chamber pot and two cots, for those occasions when she had a novice with her. It was not unusual for the Sister to bring a companion along since helping out in the prison infirmary was a good eye opener for any new novice who was contemplating a life in service to her God. After this particular initiation there were many who decided to simply pack it in and go home.

This current young lady though obviously not a true novice seemed very determined to accompany the Sister to the prison and had overcome a great many obstacles in order to attain her goal. Sister Julia admired her for that much but still had some doubts about the legitimacy of her claim. Though she insisted that she was an emancipated woman and a reporter in her own right, wishing to do an expose on the prison system, she still came across as being like a brown eyed doe caught in the sights of a hunter's rifle rather than the sophisticated woman of the world whom she claimed to be.

Still, Sister Julia admired her spunk and determination—and her courage too. This was not going to be a walk around the park during a Sunday social. The Wyoming Territorial Prison was a daunting institute even for the hardened criminals who had been sentenced to spend time there. For a young woman barely out of her teens (if indeed she was out of her teens, and Sister Julia had her doubts along those lines) it could prove to be quite terrifying.

"How long have you known Joshua and Thaddeus?" The Sister asked her young companion.

"About five years now I think." Beth answered. "We had a ranch here in Wyoming and they came by looking for work."

"And your folks had no problem with them staying with you?" The Sister inquired. "Two drifters coming from out of nowhere; that was awfully trusting."

Beth shrugged. "It's not like they stayed in the house." She insisted. "They slept out in the bunkhouse." Then she paused and thought about it for a moment. "But we knew we were safe with them. There was just something about them, something that made you trust them. And even after we discovered who they really were, we still trusted them. I never once felt threatened by either one of them." Then she smiled. "I suppose you think that was awfully naive."

"No." The Sister denied that. "I know exactly what you mean. The first time I laid eyes on those two boys I knew they were decent men. Oh, a little rough around the edges I suppose." And she smiled. "And not at all comfortable with me lecturing them about how they had neglected the spiritual side of their lives!"

Beth giggled.

The Sister became serious again. "Oddly enough, considering their background, Thaddeus opened up to me right away. He told me that they had been raised in an orphanage but had run away while still quite young and had made their own way in the world. Joshua didn't seem too happy with his friend discussing their past with me and was quick to shut it down." Then she smiled again. "I suppose he was afraid that dear Thaddeus was going to get carried away and give me his confessional right then and there amongst the tumble weeds and the cattle!"

Beth giggled again. "Thaddeus is sweet, isn't he?"

"Yes." The Sister agreed and then she sighed reflectively. "I must admit to being very shocked when I discovered their true identities. It just didn't seem possible. They were both such kind men." She shrugged her shoulders. "Yet, Joshua has been in the prison for a year now, with no denial that he is who they say he is—it just doesn't seem right somehow."

"I know." Beth agreed. "They were arrested at our ranch in Colorado, did you know?"

"No."

Beth nodded. "It was the worst day of my life. Thaddeus was so badly injured—I thought for sure he was going to die. I was so scared. I love him so much."

"Ohh?"

"Both of them!" Beth quickly covered her tracks. "I love both of them; they're like brothers to me. That's why I have to see for myself what Joshua is going through! He's a dear friend and doesn't deserve to be mistreated. I want to do everything I can to help him."

Sister Julia smiled and gave Beth a tighter hug. "Good. And I want to do everything I can to help you."

Snow had been falling for some time when the coach finally pulled into the prison yard and the two ladies were quite happy to finally be able to disembark and get settled into their heated room.

The coach came to a halt close to the entrance way and ole' Bill, the convents handyman stiffly clambered down off the box and opened the door of the coach and assisted the Sister and her companion to step out.

"Thank you Bill." Sister Julia acknowledged him. "With the way this snow is coming down I suggest you best stay in Laramie for tonight. Put the horses up at the livery and you get yourself a room and a good hot meal. They know the convent is good for it."

"Yes Sister. Thank you." Bill answered. "You just send word when you want me to come and get ya'"

And with that Bill climbed back up onto the box and clucked the horses into motion again and turned them towards town. The Sister and Beth made their way into the prison and headed straight over to reception. Sister Julia had been here many times, of coarse, but for Beth even just walking through the entrance was like walking into a whole new world.

One of the guards greeted them in the foyer and escorted them, as was usual, over to the infirmary using the same route that Kenny had used to sneak Jed in to visit with Heyes that one time. And just like Heyes and the Kid before her, as soon as Beth entered the hallways of that institution she felt the oppressiveness of those walls closing in upon her. She followed the Sister and their escort down the cold corridor feeling a little frightened with her eyes looking everywhere around her certain that there were ghosts floating above and behind them, just out of sight.

Finally the guard stopped and opened the door to the room regularly occupied by the Sister while she was in attendance. The woodstove had been lit in anticipation of her arrival and the room was warm and inviting.

"There's hot soup down in the kitchen Sister, if you and your assistant would care for any." The guard offered. "There's nothing pressing in the infirmary right now anyways."

"Thank you Officer." The Sister answered. "I will let Dr. Morin know that we are here and then I believe some hot soup would be very welcome!"

The guard nodded and tipped his cap to both ladies. "Sister, Miss. I'll see you later then."

Beth stepped in to the cozy room and instantly felt the heat start to invade her cold toes and fingers. She smiled, and putting her overnight bag down beside one of the cots, she quickly began striping off her out layer of clothing and went to rub her hands over by the stove. Sister Julia smiled as well and soon did like wise, giving them both a chance to warm up before heading next door into the infirmary.

Once both ladies had taken the time to steam away the chill and then make themselves presentable after their journey, Sister Julia led the way down the short distance to the end of the corridor and then tapped lightly on the door there. Within a few moments they heard a key from the inside unlocking and the door opened to present to them an older, balding man who looked a little grizzled and worse for wear but still managing a smile in greeting.

"Sister." Morin addressed them. "I've been expecting you. Didn't realize you were bringing a novice with you this time though."

"Yes, I know Doctor." Sister Julia answered. "It came up suddenly. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not." Morin responded, waving them in to the large room. "More the merrier!"

The two ladies entered and Morin couldn't help but watch the young novice glide gracefully in behind her mentor. What a pretty little thing, he thought to himself, and what a shame she was going to hide away her beauty inside a nun's habit. Then he felt guilty; but not because he was having thoughts like that about a servant to the church, but because he didn't feel guilty about having thoughts like that. He shrugged; he was an amoral man and he'd learned to live with it.

"Not too much going on right now ladies." Morin informed them as he closed and re-locked the door. "Might be a good time to show your student around the infirmary—you never know when things could get busy here."

"Yes, of course." The Sister agreed. "I will take some time to do that now, and then I believe we will head down to the kitchen for some hot soup. It was a rather chilly ride over here from the convent."

"Fine Sister." Morin agreed. "Whatever you want."

Then the doctor left them to it and went back to his ever present paper work.

Sister Julia took Beth around the facility and showed her all the little nooks and crannies and where all the different supplies were kept and what tables were for what procedures, etc. etc. Then they left and went for some much need sustenance.

It just so happened that the two ladies were down in the kitchen and sitting at a little side table beside the stove having their soup and bread when Heyes happened to walk by bringing towels and table coverings down from the laundry room.

"Oh look." Sister Julia pointed him out quietly. "There's Joshua now."

"Oh no!" Beth was mortified. "He can't see me here." And she started to look around for a place to hide.

Sister Julia smiled at her discomfort and then put a calming hand on her arm. "Don't worry." She said. "He'd actually have to be looking for us before he'd see us in here. Just relax."

Though still a little tense Beth nodded and then once she realized the truth of the assurance, she did relaxed and allowed herself to take a good look at her friend.

Heyes was standing at his ease, talking to one of the other trustees over by the shelving where the linen was stored. He didn't notice the two nuns over in the corner, and if he had he probably would not have thought anything of it and aside from sending his friend, Sister Julia a quiet greeting would have simply carried on with his duties. It was not unusual for the Sister to bring a novice with her and it is likely that Heyes would not have looked twice.

As it was, Beth was able to watch her friend and remain unnoticed herself and despite what she had already heard from Bridget and from Thaddeus as to Joshua's condition, she was still shocked and heart sickened by what she saw.

He was so thin! That was her first observation. She's wasn't even sure if she would have recognized him if she had passed him in the corridor. It was only because Sister Julia had pointed him out that she could see that it was indeed her friend. He finished his chat with the trustee and was turning to leave, and she could see him smiling and her heart nearly broke; he had such a beautiful smile! But his cheeks appeared hollow and his complexion pale and tired looking. And his hair! His beautiful thick brown hair was all shaved off and that just made him look even thinner and gaunter.

Her hand came up to her mouth as a silent sob escaped her and she quickly looked away from him, hoping to block out the image. But of course she couldn't and she looked back again to watch him walk away and then disappear around a corner to return to his duties in the laundry room.

"Are you alright my dear?" The Sister asked her.

"Oh my goodness!" Beth allowed her sob to come forth. "Oh my goodness! He has changed so much! I would not have known him! Thaddeus and my sister both warned me, but….to actually see him like that. Oh my goodness!"

The Sister put a hand on her arm. "Are you sure you want to continue with this?" She asked the young woman. "This is what life is here. If you don't think you can handle it…"

"No, no." Beth responded, taking a deep breath and wiping away the tears. "This is ridiculous! I must harden myself if I expect to be of any use at all! I get so fed up with these tears—they come so unbidden! I hate it! This crying over every little thing! I must stop doing that or no one is ever going to take me seriously. The only power a crying woman has over men is one of pity and condescension and I will not play that game! I have a job to do here—I have a mission and I will not let these silly tears have control over me!"

Sister Julia sat back in surprise. All of a sudden, right before her eyes this quiet unassuming young girl had changed into a determined woman who was not going to let anything or anybody stand in her way. Of course Beth had already exhibited this perseverance simply by having made it this far, but now the Sister was seeing it manifest into a true defining spirit. Sitting before her was a young woman who was not going to allow the powers that be control her life or her decisions. Even if it meant defying her own parents, which was something the Sister had by now, come to realize she had done.

The Sister smiled and patted her arm again.

"Come, finish your soup." She said. "Then we will return to the infirmary and I'll show you more of our duties there."

The rest of the afternoon went by quietly. There were some minor cases to tend to, but mostly it was for returning patients who'd had previous injuries or illnesses that the doctor was simply doing a follow-up on and was of no real consequence. Beth settled in to helping out with cleaning up and bringing supplies over to the doctor as he asked for them and by the end of the day she was feeling relaxed and confident about what would be expected of her in this new environment.

The next day would prove to be another matter altogether.

The morning started out just as quietly as the previous afternoon had been and Beth was beginning to wonder if her sister and Thaddeus had been over-reacting with their testimonies of deplorable conditions. The inmates whom Beth did happen to see and even assist attending to did not seem overly hard-done by and everyone seemed quite civil to one another. Joshua had certainly appeared to be underweight when Beth had seen him, but perhaps that was just her imagination—seeing what she expected to see. It may have just been the prison garb and his shaved head which made him appear almost emaciated.

Then the main door to the infirmary burst open and Davis burst in upon their morning all huffing and puffing and full of self-importance.

"Doc! We got a fight happenin' over at the work floor!" He announced. "Don't really know what's goin' on or who's involved, but we might be needin' ya'!"

Morin looked up from the instruments he was sterilizing and gave a sigh of frustration.

"Alright, we'll be right there." He answered. "Sister, will you please grab my bag over there by the desk? God dammit, I don't know if these fellas are animals before they come here or if bein' here brings it out in 'em. Either way I always seem to be patchin' up somebody!"

Morin and the Sister quickly headed out the door, and since everyone had forgotten about the quiet little novice, she decided to tag along.

Beth could tell when they were getting close to the guts of the prison; she could hear men yelling and something banging against wood and metal. She could also smell them. Uncouth men who are only permitted to shower once a week and in cold water to boot cannot help but put out an aroma that would tingle at a young girls nostrils and cause her eyes to water.

Beth put a hand up to her nose and mouth to try and mask some of the odor but she wasn't having much luck. Then once they entered upon the work floor itself, she almost lost her courage altogether to run screaming back to the safety of the infirmary! But she took herself in hand and said 'Self; this is why you are here! Don't you dare turn coward now and run into hiding!' And she didn't.

But the scene that met her eyes was daunting to say the least. Harsh men dressed in the traditional prison garb were being ushered back to their work stations, but they were not going willingly. They were silent in their protest, but they protested none the less, with their eyes filled with resentment and anger and their mouths twisted in sneers of hatred at the guards enforcing the rules upon them.

The yelling and banging was coming from the guards themselves, using whatever means they had at their disposal to dominate and control the throng of prisoners who had been caught up in the aggressive adrenaline of the fight. It seemed to Beth that the guards themselves were just as harsh and brutal as the prisoners themselves and the only real way to distinguish them was by their clothing and the bully clubs they were so effectively wielding.

Her teeth were chattering with the most basic of animal fears as she couldn't help but notice the looks being sent her way by some of the inmates. Though most of the inmates would have been civil to a young maiden, there were others who were used to taking what they wanted and didn't mind showing it. Once they had noticed that a youthful female had entered into their domain, it didn't matter to them that she wore the garb of the church. Their nostrils' flared at the sight of her and the looks of masculine lust that were sent her way sent a shiver down her spine and encouraged her to keep her face hidden and to stay close to her mentor.

Then suddenly, all she could see was blood! She was taken back to that terrible day, a year and a half ago when her dear friend had lain stricken in the dirt just barely holding onto a life that was rapidly seeping away from him. And there was Joshua, down by the wounded man and again there was blood all over him, soaking into his clothing and smeared across his face. His hands were covered in it. Beth thought she was going to scream—it was happening all over again!

But then he and the doctor were standing up, lifting the man with them and walking away, towards the exit. Sister Julia was right in there, her hands keeping pressure on the terrible wound and they were all moving away. Beth shook herself into rational behaviour and quietly followed the procession, dimly aware of one of the guards coming up along behind her, protecting her from the advances of what she conceived to be the threatening multitude of pent up male lustfulness.

It was with a great sigh of relief when she found herself back in the relative safety of the infirmary. She quickly got herself out of the way since she had no real idea as to how to tend to the injured man whereas everyone else in the room seemed to be quite capable of doing just that. She watched Joshua and she felt a sorrow rise up in her as she realized that he truly was a different man now than the one she had known. It was as though there was a sense of brutality about him now—a darkness that lingered. Or was that simply because of the blood that was on him?

She continued to watch him. He wasn't brutal in his behaviour in helping to tend to the patient; in fact he was just the opposite. He was exhibiting compassion; a true sense of caring about whether or not the man lived or died. He was quick and efficient in carrying out the doctor's instructions and Morin himself seemed to trust in his abilities to do what was needed.

And yet there was still something; just a hint of the wild animal in him that she had never noticed before. She remembered the Doctors comment earlier on concerning the behaviour of these inmates; were they animals to begin with, or did being in this environment make them into animals? Knowing what she knew of her friend, Beth was certain she knew the answer to that question.

Beth briefly noted the guard leaving the infirmary and then her attention was again drawn to the activity over with the patient. She couldn't see too clearly what was going on there and she didn't want to move in closer in case Joshua would then take more note of her. More than anything else, he could not know that she was here. Indeed, it had not been her intentions at all to be in such close proximity to him. She had of course hoped to see him—but at a distance!

It did not take long for the impromptu surgery to be completed and then everyone, including Beth breathed a sigh of relief. Joshua went to sit down over by the counter, as he did look drained and then fortunately Dr. Morin gave herself and the Sister a job to do in completing the bandaging up of the patient. Beth was relieved to be given a job that she felt confident doing and quickly moved in beside the Sister to help with that endeavor. It also kept her facing away from Joshua which was an added benefit.

Beth was vaguely aware of the Doctor speaking with Joshua, apparently assuring him of a job well done and then the medical man disappeared into his side office to write up the paperwork on this latest incident. It was at this point that Heyes' attention moved back over to the patient and his attendants.

This was really the first time that Heyes had taken much notice of the Sister's young novice. She was very quiet and unassuming in her manner and indeed was quite masterful at keeping her head down and her face hidden. Heyes could not even say what colour her eyes were, and of course her hair was hidden beneath the shawl covering her head. And yet there was something naggingly familiar about her. He couldn't put his finger on it and it bothered him; that feeling that he should know her but not able to get enough information from her countenance to allow him to place her.

Then the atmosphere in the infirmary changed for the worse. Carson and Thompson suddenly put in an appearance and neither one looked like they were there on a social call. Beth saw them come in and instantly felt the strained oppression settle over the room and its occupants. What she witnessed next removed all doubt in her mind concerning the safety and wellbeing of her friend while incarcerated in this institution. It awakened in her an anger and a resolution to not only save her friend from this horrid place but to have a hand in changing the very structure of the prison system itself.

Heyes tensed. Dammit! What now? He stood up, trying to be discreet, but also wanting to get himself into a better position. Sitting down he had been vulnerable but now he moved into position with his back against the counter and cabinets, hoping to prevent Thompson from moving in behind him. He half turned towards the two guards but he was sure to keep his head down and his eyes averted from them not wanting to provoke a worse beating than the one that was already headed his way.

Carson moved towards him, taping the end of that damn bully club against the palm of his left hand. He was looking mean but that didn't say much because even when he was smiling he looked mean. Thompson on the other hand, was smiling. He was looking forward to this. The two guards got in to position around the convict; Carson in front of him and Thompson up to the side. Heyes may have protected his back, but now he was surely trapped.

He locked eyes with Sister Julia, his expression apologetic. Why the hell did Carson have to do this here and now, with these two ladies watching? But then it occurred to Heyes that that was exactly what Carson had in mind. Adding embarrassment and degradation to the physical assault would just make it all the sweeter for two men who had already proven themselves to be sadistic bullies.

"That has got to be a record out on the floor today Heyes." Carson commented. "You broke three of the basic ground rules all in one go. How about you show these ladies just how smart you are and tell us all what those rules are."

Heyes' jaw tightened. Dammit! Where was Morin? He still kept eye contact with the Sister. He didn't really know why; maybe he just needed to focus on something other than Carson's boots. He couldn't bring himself to look at the novice though he was very much aware of her looking at him. Dammit! Not here, not now! This wasn't right.

"C'mon Heyes." Carson chided him. "You have permission to speak—let's hear it! What are the three rules you broke?"

Heyes then did look down at the floor. His heart was pounding; his brain just didn't want to think. Ahhh—three rules….what were the three rules?

"I spoke out of turn." Heyes answered quietly. "And I assaulted a guard."

"Okay, that's two." Carson could count. "What was the third rule Heyes? C'mon. It's probably the most important one of all and yet it seems to be the one you keep on forgettin' about."

Heyes was silent. Where the hell was Morin? He couldn't think—what other rule had he broken?

Thompson snickered. "Just like I thought." He sneered. "He's an imbecile. Everybody keeps goin' on about what a brilliant man Hannibal Heyes is but I swear I have yet to see it!"

"Officer, really is this necessary?" Sister Julia asked from where she was standing. "Please consider my young novice…."

"Just doing my job Sister." Carson interrupted her though still keeping his eyes boring into Heyes. "We gotta keep on top of these convicts or they're gonna start thinkin' they run the place! Perhaps next time you'll leave your novice back at the convent."

Beth opened her mouth to protest but the Sister laid a hand on her arm, instantly silencing her. The Sister had dealt with enough bullies in her day to realize that the more you protested their behavior, the worse it would become.

"So, c'mon Heyes." Carson continued. "You've had a moment to think on it. What's the third rule?"

"I don't remember sir."

"You don't remember." Carson repeated. "Sounds to me like you need re-educating. Thompson, remind Heyes what the third rule is."

Heyes felt Thompson lean into him, could feel the man's breath against his neck.

"The…guards…are…always…right."

Heyes closed his eyes. Oh yeah.

"The guards are always right." Carson reiterated. "You seem to have a hard time remembering that one Heyes."

"WHAT THE FXXK IS GOING ON IN HERE?!" Morin had returned to the infirmary.

"Hey there Doc." Carson greeted him with a mean smile. "I'm just reminding Heyes of the ground rules. He's been kinda forgetful of them lately."

And here he gave Heyes a couple of friendly pats on the shoulder. Heyes cringed with each touch.

"You know damn well you don't pull that crap in here!" Morin threw back at him. "This is my infirmary and Heyes is my assistant! When he's working as my assistant those fxxkin' 'ground rules' don't apply! And you bloody well know it!"

"Maybe in here they don't apply Doc, but out on the floor they sure as hell do." Carson pointed out. "And when he broke the rules he was workin' out on the floor, just like any other low-life convict."

"You wanna take this up with the Warden then you go and do that!" Morin challenged him. "But in the meantime get the hell outa my infirmary!"

"Sure thing, Doc." Carson agreed and turned to go, his hand still on Heyes' shoulder.

Then quick as the proverbial whip snake he came around full force and whacked that bully club right into Heyes' ribcage. Heyes gasped and doubled over but Thompson grabbed him around his chest, holding him up so that Carson was able to get in two more rapid blows—and then all hell broke loose.

"YOU FXXKING PRXXK!" Morin yelled and then made a run at the guard!

Carson had no problem blocking the older man and then with a quick upper jab with his elbow, sent the doctor staggering back into an examination table. Morin tried to stay on his feet, but was unsuccessful and went down with a crash and a clatter, taking a tray of utensils with him.

Heyes had fallen to the floor by this time, clutching his definitely broken rib and painfully gasping for air. He curled himself into a ball to try and protect himself from the onslaught that he knew was coming. Carson turned back to him and then both guards started kicking the fallen convict until suddenly they found themselves blocked by the devil in a novice's habit.

"STOP IT!" Beth yelled at them, all fury and clenched fists. "STOP KICKING HIM!"

Both guards stopped out of surprise more than anything else. They stared at the young unassuming novice who was now standing over the fallen convict, her jaw tight and her brown eyes alight with indignant rage. This was not a frightened young girl, pleading with them for mercy, but a strong and angry woman demanding respect.

"YOU LEAVE HIM BE!"

Carson and Thompson smiled at each other. What a wildcat! This could be fun. But then Sister Julia quickly got in between Beth and the two guards and pulled her out of the milieu before anything more could happen. Morin was on his feet again, limping but coming at them.

"You get the hell outa here Carson." He demanded. "And take your new little boot-licker with ya'! And you better believe that Mitchell is gonna hear about this!"

Carson snickered. "Yeah, right." Then he knelt down beside Heyes and grabbed hold of the front of his tunic. Heyes opened his eyes, but instantly looked away. "You look at me Heyes." Carson ordered him. When he didn't get the response he wanted, he gave the convict a shake—Heyes gasped. "Here I am giving you permission to look me in the eye and you ain't got the guts? LOOK AT ME!" Heyes was sucking his teeth with the pain but his lip curled up in a snarl as he deliberately turned and glared his hatred into the guard's eyes. Carson smiled. "You ever assault one of my officers again, I'll hang ya'. But I won't do it in such a way as to kill ya' Heyes, I'll just make ya' wish you were dead."

He gave the convict a shove so that the back of his head banged against the floor and then he stood up and addressed his audience.

"Doctor, ladies. Have a pleasant afternoon." Then he nodded over to Thompson and the two men turned and left the infirmary.

Everyone was on the move at once. Beth reached the fallen man first and cradled his head in her lap. She leaned over him, looking into his eyes, her blond hair which had fallen from the shawl, was hanging loose about her face.

"Joshua!" Her voice was a mixture of anger and anguish. She wasn't sure which emotion she felt the most.

"What the hell…?" Heyes looked up into her gaze, his face a picture of confusion. He must be hallucinating—Beth couldn't be here. He must be seeing things. Surely Beth didn't run away from home to join the convent, did she? No, no that doesn't make sense. Something was wrong here. "Sister Julia?"

"Yes, Joshua—I'm here." The Sister assured him. "It's alright."

"What…?"

"No, no. It's alright." She repeated. "I'll explain later."

"Oh. Okay."

"Heyes." Morin had managed to squeeze himself in between the two ladies. "Just relax; I wanna take a look at ya'."

Heyes nodded and Morin pulled up his tunic and then frowned at the odd bump and discolouration on the right side of his torso. He gently applied pressure and Heyes tensed.

"Yup." Morin confirmed. "It's that same damn rib again. Only this time it is for true and surely busted. Three times lucky, eh Heyes?"

Heyes groaned. "It feels like there's a knife sticking in me."

"Yup, I'm not surprised." Morin commented. "It's a bad break. We move ya' the wrong way and it's gonna compound itself. Damn that Carson! He's just a fxxkin' sadistic bastard! I swear he should be hung by his bxxxx and left to swing until they rip off!"

Heyes cringed. "Jeez Doc, and you call him sadistic." He commented through clenched teeth. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"And really, Dr. Morin." Sister Julia admonished him. "I realize you enjoy your colourful vulgarities, but I would appreciate you remembering that there are young ears present."

Doc sent a quick glance over to a rather embarrassed looking novice and then had the good graces to look a little embarrassed himself.

"Oh yeah." He mumbled. "Sorry miss. Don't pay me no mind; I'm just a filthy old man."

Beth smiled self-consciously and then dropped her gaze to focus again on her friend.

"Well." Said Morin as he stiffly hoisted himself to his feet. "Let's see if we can get him up onto a table. We're gonna havta be careful though; like I said, one wrong move and that rib is gonna be on his outside rather than his inside."

Beth paled slightly, but also looked determined to do her bit. Both ladies stood up and prepared to assist in the maneuver. Morin disappeared into his office again, but returned promptly with a stretcher and laid it down alongside Heyes' prone body.

"Okay." He said. "Now miss, if you could just take my place here beside the stretcher. Good, thank you. Now, Sister if you could kneel down by his feet and I'll take his shoulders. Now, we want to roll him onto his side so that our young novice here can slide the stretcher underneath him. But we have to be very careful to keep his body straight, you understand? We can't let it twist at all."

"Yes, Doctor. We understand." Sister Julia informed him while Beth nodded her agreement.

"Right then. Lets…."

"Wait a minute Doc!" Came the tense and nervous protest from the victim.

"What?"

"Ahhh, how about a little morphine or somethin' down here?" Heyes asked. "I have a funny feeling this is gonna hurt."

"Nope, can't do it Heyes." Morin denied him. "If we do start to hurt ya' I wanna be able to hear ya' hollerin'. Givin' ya' morphine would kinda' defeat that purpose now wouldn't it?"

"Well…yeah…" Heyes agreed, a little apprehensively. He was not liking this one bit.

"Don't worry Heyes." Morin consoled him. "Believe me, I don't wanna havta' deal with a compound fracture any more than you do. All that blood and bones sticking out of bodies—not to mention the screaming. And I don't think the ladies would appreciate it either."

Heyes groaned. Morin was picking a fine time to try to be funny.

"Okay Sister. Ready? One, two, three…roll."

Heyes closed his eyes and tried to relax as he felt his body gently and smoothly rolled onto its left side. Then Beth pushed the stretcher underneath him and he was allowed to settle back down onto it again. That broken rib was hurting like hell, but nothing stabbed at him and if he could have taken a breath without pain he would have sighed with relief.

"Okay ladies!" Morin announced. "Now let's lift up the stretcher nice and easy and move him over to that exam table there beside ole' Ames. Good thing that fella's still asleep—all I need is two damn crybabies in here."

Ten minutes later Heyes was lying on the table trying to ignore the pain and waiting for the morphine to take effect. Morin had already cut his bloodied tunic off and Sister Julia was carefully washing away the blood from his chest and hands. Heyes was slowly starting to drift away but he could still feel the movements around him and hear them talking.

"Oh, Doctor." The Sister was saying, as though from a distance away. "I believe he has broken his finger too."

"Oh crap! Yeah. That Carson—and now Thompson too. What a pair of axxholes! Mitchell's gonna be hearin' about this that's for damn sure!"

"Look at that!" Heyes could hear Beth exclaim, her voice starting to fade away. "I've never seen a bone broken like that before—look at the way it's pushing up against his skin….."

What was Beth doing here anyways? Heyes dreamily thought to himself. Shouldn't she be in school or something? Or maybe she doesn't go to school anymore—but she's only twelve years old isn't she? Oh Jesse and Belle are going to be furious….What was she doing here…..? And then he was gone, drifting into dreams that he would soon forget and totally oblivious then to the procedures going on around him.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Kenny returned to the infirmary to collect his charge and return him to the work floor. Not surprisingly the scene that met his eyes when he walked into the ward was not at all what he had been expecting. He stopped dead in his tracks with his mouth open and such a confused expression on his face that it couldn't help but bring smiles to the three people sitting down to a cup of afternoon tea.

"What in the world?" Kenny finally stated. "What happened here?"

"It seems that Carson decided that Heyes needed to be reminded of the rules he broke when he saved Ames' life." Morin explained. "He and that Thompson kid showed up shortly after you left and promptly taught him a lesson."

"Oh Fxxk! Oh, I'm sorry Sister, miss." Kenny caught himself, and then he gave a frustrated sigh. "Here we go again! I don't know how many times I've told Mitchell that Carson is too abusive with the inmates. This is just getting out of hand."

Yeaup." Morin agreed. "Well, c'mon Kenny sit down for a cup of tea. I'd offer ya' something stronger but I don't have anything." Kenny hesitated for a minute. "Oh c'mon!" Morin repeated. "If you've already had your break then have another one!"

Kenny smiled and nodded, then he sat down with the others and the Sister poured him a cup of tea.

"Officer Reece, I don't believe you have met my young novice." The Sister commented. "This is Beth."

"Miss Beth." Reece greeted her with a slight nod. "I'm sorry about my harsh language there, but that convict isn't a bad sort—a bit hardheaded at times, but still—I'm getting tired of Mr. Carson singling him out for this kind of abuse. And the Warden doesn't seem prepared to do anything about it either. Anyway." He added with a smile, and Beth couldn't help but notice what a handsome man he was, despite being old enough to be her father. "I shouldn't be bothering you with this stuff; it's none of your concern."

"Oh but it is my concern, Officer Reece." Beth contradicted him. "Joshua is a dear friend of mine and I intend to see that something does get done about this! And don't worry about your bad language, I think I'm getting used to it." And she sent a sidelong glance over to Dr. Morin.

Kenny smiled. "Yes, I'm sure you are, being in this reprobate's company."

"Oh, that's the thanks I get for workin' in this insane asylum!" Morin complained. "And nothin' in the cupboard to drown my sorrows with either!"

"That's all you need Doc, to get caught drinking on the job!" Kenny reprimanded him. "I thought you quit."

"Quit drinkin' here!" Morin explained. "Still put away a few good belts when I get home though. How the hell else am I suppose to survive this fxxxing place?" Then he rolled his eyes as he realized that he had cursed in front of the young lady again. Oh well.

Kenny just smiled and then his expression turned serious as he looked across the ward to the two unconscious patients.

"So, you're a friend of his, are you?" He asked Beth.

"Yes. Him and Thaddeus, both."

Kenny creased his brow. "Thaddeus?" He looked to Sister Julia.

"Mr. Curry." She informed him.

"Oh."

"Yes." Beth confirmed. "And Thaddeus has told me all about you Officer Reece. He says that you are doing a lot to try and help Joshua and that you watch out for him here. I want you to know that we all really appreciate that."

"Hmmm." Kenny was contemplative. "So—you're a friend to both Heyes and Jed, and here you are working in the infirmary as a novice. Isn't that interesting."

Beth and the Sister both looked a little sheepish with that observation.

"Well, Mr. Reece." Sister Julia commented. "As you know many young ladies come to me as novices to experience our lifestyle. As you also know, most of them choose to move on to other things." She sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately a life in the service of the church is not for everyone."

Kenny smiled. "Am I to take that to mean that your current novice is not likely to be returning?"

"Not likely, no." The Sister confirmed.

"At least not as a novice." Beth informed them.

Kenny's eyebrows shot up. "Ohhh?"

"As I said earlier; I intend to see that something gets done about this." Beth further explained. "I fully intend to return here and have my own word with the Warden!"

Kenny smiled again. "Good!" He said. "This stuffy old prison could do with a bit of a shaking up!"

Beth grinned broadly. She really was taking a liking to Officer Reece.

Kenny looked over at the two patients again. "So, what's your prognosis?" He asked Morin. "I know Ames is going to be here for a few days, but will Heyes be able to return to work soon?"

"Not likely." Morin answered. "Those two axxholes busted his rib quite badly and broke two of his fingers. He's gonna be laid up for a while. Still, it woulda been a lot worse except our young novice here got in-between them and stopped the 'lesson' pretty quick."

Kenny's brows went up in surprise and admiration as he looked over at Beth again.

"Really?" He commented.

"They were hurting my friend!" Beth explained. "I couldn't just stand there and do nothing!"

Kenny smiled and gave a little laugh. "Well, it seems to me that Heyes is lucky to have a friend like you watching out for him."

Beth beamed here pleasure at the compliment.

Then Kenny sighed. "I swear, between illness, injury and working here, he spends more time in the infirmary than he does in his own cell. Anyway, I better be getting back to work." He stood up and nodded to the visitors. "Ladies. Doc. I'll be back later to check up."

And with that Kenny left.

Later that afternoon, while Sister Julia tended to other duties, Beth sat beside her friend watching him sleep. She held his uninjured hand in hers and found herself becoming even more resolute in doing something about this deplorable situation.

Even in sleep Joshua did not look restful. Just as she had noticed before, there was a change in his countenance that she could not quite put her finger on, but she knew that it was something feral—something guarded. Even in a drug induced sleep he was watching his back.

She caressed his forehead and then cradled his face in her hand, again shocked at the angular feel of his cheek bone and jaw line. And Thaddeus said that he had actually gained some weight since last winter! Oh my!

Heyes moaned softly in his sleep and nestled into the feel of her hand on his face. Beth smiled; was it her imagination or had he relaxed a little, taking comfort from a friendly presence and a loving touch? She would try to be with him tomorrow when he woke up since Dr. Morin seemed to think that he would be out until at least mid-morning. She hadn't wanted him to know that she was here, but now that he did know she would offer what support she could—whether he liked it or not!

"Really Officer Murrey, I'm very disappointed in you." Warden Mitchell lectured the young man. "I give you a simple job to do and you totally botched it up."

Murrey frowned. "I don't understand Warden." He admitted feeling a little pressured. "I did what you asked, there were no problems. I've been wondering why nothing has come of it yet."

"Yes, you did what I asked." Mitchell threw back at him. "But you didn't watch your back and you were observed!"

"No sir Warden!" Murrey insisted. "I was real careful! Nobody saw me go into the infirmary!"

"Maybe nobody saw you go in, but someone else was already in there and he saw what you did!"

"WHAT?!" Murrey exclaimed. "No sir! Nobody was in there! I did a full check of the ward before I placed the bottle! Who says they saw me?"

"Heyes! That's who!" The Warden was getting frustrated. "The very man I was trying to test! The absolute last person that should have seen you saw you!"

"Heyes?" Murrey repeated with indignant amazement. "Heyes was no where near the infirmary that morning! All the inmates were still locked in their cells!"

"Morning?" Mitchell asked in a slightly quieter tone. "Don't you mean 'night'?"

"No sir. I went in there early in the morning, before the Doc showed up for work." Murrey explained. "And I swear—there was nobody else in there!"

Silence ensued inside the Warden's office. Murrey stood quietly, not at his ease. He was confused and not quite sure why he was getting chewed out like this. He'd done his job.

Mitchell was into a slow burn, his upper lip pulling back in anger. It was a good thing that the coffee cup he was holding was made of stout ceramic or there would have been a minor explosion and a large coffee puddle all over his paperwork.

"That bastard!" Mitchell cursed in an angry whisper. "He's still playin' me!"

Murrey made no comment. This was all going right over his head, but he did pick up on one fact; that the Warden's anger was no longer directed at him and for that blessing he was no end relieved.

"That's all Murrey." Mitchell finally dismissed him. "Please tell Mr. Carson I wish to see him."

"Yessir."

"Mr. Carson. I have had no less than three complaints about your conduct in the infirmary the other day." Mitchell informed his head guard. "Do you care to elaborate?"

"Yessir, Warden." Carson replied. "Heyes, once again, forgot the rules right out there on the work floor, in front of everybody. I didn't think it was a good idea for the inmates to start thinkin' that it was alright to assault a guard for any reason, so Mr. Thompson and I made sure Heyes got the message. The rest of the inmates now know that he's spending some time at the infirmary—as a patient this time, so they all got the message too."

"Why did you take Thompson with you?" Mitchell asked him. "He's still quite new here; why not take one of the more experienced guards, like Pearson or Davis?"

"Because Thompson was the injured party." Carson reasoned. "I felt he deserved restitution."

"Hmmm." Mitchell nodded. "I want you to understand that I have no qualms about the way you manage the prison proper, Mr. Carson. I have no trouble absorbing complaints from bleeding hearts like Reece and Morin suggesting that your methods are too brutal. Most of the inmates here are willing to comply with the rules once they've spent a day or two in the dark cell, or loose their privileges for a month." Here Mitchell gives a resigned sigh and shakes his head. "But there are always those few who refuse to accept the inevitable and then we have to be tougher on them if we want to have any hope at all of breaking them in. If corporal punishment is all they understand then that's what we'll give them. Heyes has been a particularly difficult egg to crack and I certainly understand your need to get tough with him. I would even go so far as to say that you are doing a fine job of keeping everyone in line and I wouldn't want you to feel that you need to change your methods in any way."

Carson nodded, accepting the compliment but then wondering why he was here.

"The only thing I would suggest is that you use a little more tact next time." Mitchell explained. "I mean, really Mr. Carson…delving out punishment in front of the Sister and her young novice couldn't help but cause a stir. Indeed, Sister Julia was very—uncharitable in her level of complaint." Here Mitchell groaned and rolled his eyes as another thought occurred to him. "And I'm probably going to be hearing an earful from the Mother Superior too. God Dammit!"

Carson shifted a little uncomfortably but remained silent. Mitchell sighed.

"That's all Mr. Carson." He concluded. "Just in future when you need to discipline an inmate, please make sure you do it when no one from outside the prison faculty is present to witness it. Outsiders just don't understand."

"Yessir Warden." Carson agreed. "Next time I'll be more 'tactful'."

"That's all I ask." Mitchell concurred. "How is Heyes by the way?"

Carson allowed a small smile to invade his lips. "He'll be a while recovering Warden."

"GOOD!" Mitchell responded with some heat. "That'll be all Mr. Carson."

"Yessir."

"You shouldn't be here Beth."

"I had to see for myself how you were being treated!" Beth would not back down. "I was sick and tired of only getting sugar-coated answered from Thaddeus and everybody treating me like I was 'too young' to know!"

Heyes smiled weakly. He was lying in bed and propped up on some pillows, allowing his young friend to incase his uninjured hand in both of hers while her imploring eyes asked him to please not be angry even while her voice demanded respect. He gave a resigned sigh.

"It seems nobody listens to me anymore." He complained. "I make it very clear that I don't want either of you young ladies coming out here and yet both of you completely disregard my degree and find ways—devious ways I might add—to make your way here anyways. Don't you people realize who I am? I'm the great Hannibal Heyes! I was the most successful leader of the Devil's Hole Gang!" Cough, flinch—heavy sigh. "I could crush an unruly outlaw with just a look from my cold dark eyes! Hardened criminals tremble in their boots with a reprimand from me! And yet two young ladies who are just barely adults exhibit a total lack of respect for my impressive credentials and end up doing whatever they want anyways!"

Sister Julia, who was sitting next to Ames and helping him with some soup, glanced over at the 'great outlaw leader' and smiled. Beth laughed out loud.

Heyes sighed again and closed his eyes. "Nobody takes me seriously anymore."

Beth raised his hand to her lips and gave him a sweet kiss and smiled at him.

"We love you too much to take you seriously."

Heyes smiled and then bringing her hands up to his mouth, he returned the kiss she had given him.

"Your parents are going to be worried about you." He said quietly. "You need to get back home"

"We'll be leaving tomorrow morning Joshua." The Sister informed him. "It's been snowing quite steadily, but the road is still open. I'll make sure Beth gets on a train and headed for home before we all get snowed in for the winter."

"Good." Heyes said with a smile, then closing his eyes because the lids were just getting too heavy to keep open anymore. "I'll have to write Thaddeus all about this as soon as I'm able."

"Oh no!" Beth was mortified. "Please don't tell Thaddeus about this!"

"Why not?" Heyes asked through closed eyes.

"Because he'll tell Papa and then I'll really be in for it!"

Heyes smiled. "Considering you're already over-due getting home from Denver I would not be surprised if your Papa already knows about this, and you're already in for it."

"Oh." Beth was crestfallen. "I suppose you're right."

"Hmmm."

"Well I don't care!" She stated fervently. "I wanted to see you and I did and I'll accept whatever punishment Papa gives me! We're going to get you out of here Joshua! I mean it! I won't rest until we can bring you home!"

"Hmmm."

"Come Beth." Sister Julia suggested as she stood up and settled Ames back into his pillow. "They're both tired and need to rest. We'll come back this evening."

"Oh, alright." Beth was disappointed, but looking at her friend lying back in his pillows, she could see the truth of the statement. "I'll see you later Joshua."

Heyes' nod was barely perceptible. The two ladies glided away and aside from Morin doing some work at the far table, the infirmary was left in quiet.

"Hey, Heyes." Ames called over from his bed.

Heyes forced his eyes open and looked over at him.

"You could do a hell of a lot worse than havin' a friend like that."

Heyes smiled softly and nodded. He closed his eyes again and was drifting off into sleep, thinking that Ames was right; he was a lucky man, having friends like that. A deep sigh and he was hard down dreaming about Karma and galloping like the wind across the sea of grass with the warm sun shining down upon him and the thrill of the ride causing him to laugh out loud.

To Be Continued


	22. Chapter 22

New Beginnings

Beth disembarked from the train with bags in hand and feeling somewhat trepidatious. It was a cold and gray afternoon with snow falling lightly along with the temperatures and the promise in the air was of more snow to come. Lots of it. Beth had probably made it home just in time.

She walked nervously up and down the platform until she turned and finally, but anxiously saw her father. They started towards one another, but neither was smiling, indeed Jesse's mouth was set in a hard line and Beth felt her stomach twist into an even bigger knot than it had already been in. Father and daughter stood facing one another and Beth put her bags down at her feet and then stood up straight and looked her father in the eye. She loved him dearly and it broke her heart to meet with his disapproval but she was adamant that she would not back down on this.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of standing and staring at one another, Jesse broke the silence.

"Bethany." He greeted her quietly.

Oh, she knew she was in trouble now.

"Papa I….."

But Jesse stepped forward to pick up her bags and then turned on his heel and walked back towards the waiting surrey. Beth hung her head for a second and then silently followed.

The ride back out to the Double J was anything but pleasant. Apparently Jesse didn't have too much to say to his daughter and Beth felt that she would have much preferred it if he had spent the time yelling at her rather than sitting in stoic silence. All of her resolve to 'not back down' was being deflated by the simple fact that she was being given no obstacles to fight against. Kind of hard to self-righteously stand your ground when no one was challenging you.

Half way home all of Beth's resolve to be right had dissolved into anxious repentance and she was overcome by the need to explain herself and to try and lessen some of the disapproval being silently heaped upon her.

"I'm sorry Papa." She finally succumbed. "But I had to see him and no body was willing to take me. I asked Thaddeus and he refused. I asked Clementine and she wouldn't go for it either. Everybody kept on insisting that I was too young and that Joshua wouldn't want me to come anyways! But I had to! I had to see for myself! Please understand."

Silence ensued for a few more minutes as the horse trotted on through the snow. Beth sighed with hanging head and snuggled deeper into her blanket. She knew her father would be angry with her, but he had never before been so angry that he was not willing to talk. Finally though, Jesse relented and though he still would not look at her and his voice was tight, he did open up communication.

"Do you have any idea how worried we were?" He asked her. "When I arrived at the train station and you were not there all sorts of wild fears ran through my mind. And your mother…! You couldn't even bother to send us a telegram!"

"I hadn't planned on being gone that long." Beth explained in a small voice. "And I didn't realize that you would be meeting my train."

"How else did you expect to get home?" Her father demanded. "Were you planning to walk out to the ranch from town?"

"No! I just….I didn't think."

"You're darn right you didn't think!" Jesse agreed. "You're mother was beside herself with worry! Thank goodness Sister Julia had an address for Thaddeus and sent us a telegram to let us know where you were! I swear Beth! Right now I feel like locking you up in your bedroom and throwing away the key until you're thirty-five! And I'm certainly going to have a thing or two to say to Bridget about this too—and don't you dare deny that she had anything to do with this because I know darn well that she did!

You two were always good at instigating things like this together! I swear, Steven is going to have his hands full marrying into this family—especially when he realizes that he's going to be inheriting the younger sister as well! Poor man—I feel like I should warn him now that he would be much better off packing his bags and returning to Wyoming still single and worry-free!" Big sigh, shaking of the head. "Well, if this incident hasn't opened his eyes, I guess nothing will. Young and stupid! By the time he figures it out it'll be too late."

Jesse finally quieted down and focused on keeping the horse on the road since the snow was getting deeper and the track was hard to distinguish. Beth sat silently and sent a furtive glance over to her father, hoping that the worst of the onslaught was over with.

Fortunately anything more that Jesse might have wanted to bestow upon his daughter would have to wait because they soon were trotting down the road towards the ranch and then into the yard and over to the far barn. Sam, who had been waiting for them to return, quickly stepped out to take hold of the horse's bridle and allow the two people to step out of the surrey.

"I'm sure glad you folks made it back." He stated as he patted the horse. "I was beginning to get worried."

"Yeah, it's falling pretty heavy now." Jesse observed. "As soon as you get ole' Monty unharnessed and put away, why don't you just head for home. I'm sure Maribelle is getting worried herself by now."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yes sir, Mr. Jordan. Thank you."

Then Sam clucked to the gelding and they moved into the barn. Once inside Sam quickly released the horse from the shafts and pushed the surrey back and out of the way. He unharnessed the animal and then gave him a quick rub down to brush away the snow and to make sure he was as dry as he could be before putting him into a stall and throwing him some hay.

Karma, Buck and Spike along with Sam's own horse were all comfortably settled into their stalls by that time and hardly gave the newcomer a second snort while they munched away at their own snack and feeling pretty content with their lot.

Being inside a sturdy barn filled with horses on a cold and snowy day brings with it its own kind of peaceful pleasure. It can still be chilly, but the warmth from the horses' thickly coated bodies along with the sounds of munching and snorting and stamping of feet makes one feel cozy and welcomed. Therefore it was with some reluctance that Sam brought his own horse out into the isle and commenced to saddle her up so that he could himself head for home.

It was at times like these that he regretted that home was no longer just across the yard in the bunkhouse, with the good wood stove making the small room cozy and the coffee always ready to drink. Still, it was a payoff. Once he did get home he would be greeted by his wife who could also make their small home warm and cozy and he could be sure that the coffee would be on and ready for him as soon as he walked in the door. All he had to do was get there.

His little sorrel mare wasn't all that pleased about being hauled out of her stall either and stood stoically and with her ears back throughout most of her tacking up. She had been nice and comfortable right where she was, and now she had to go out in that?! Life for a horse just wasn't fair sometimes. But then it occurred to her that Mrs. Human would have a nice warm mash waiting for her in her own stall at her other home so perhaps a quick trot through the snow to receive that wasn't too much of a sacrifice for her to make.

Sam got her saddled, made sure everything in the barn was put away and then bundling himself up in his coat, hat and gloves, he led his mare out into the whiteness. Actually now the temperatures didn't seem that cold—it was quite pleasant out. The snow falling and leaving a thick white covering upon the ground made everything seem quiet and peaceful—almost serine. He smiled and giving his mare a pat on the neck, he mounted up and they headed at a trot out of the yard and towards his home and his wife.

Inside the ranch house Beth was getting hit with a chill of another kind. She really must have messed up big time for her mother to be giving her the cold shoulder. Even JJ who was sitting on the floor and 'colouring' on some scrape paper looked up at the three adults with a very worried expression on his face. The atmosphere in the living room was oppressive even to him.

"Can I help you with dinner Mama?" Beth asked hopefully.

"No." Belle answered over her shoulder. "Why don't go upstairs and put your things away and then perhaps I'll feel like talking to you after that."

"Yes Mama." Beth answered quietly and then with a quick sideways glance to her father she took her bags upstairs to unpack.

As soon as she was out of sight Belle turned to face her husband and they exchanged knowing smiles.

"Do you think its working?" Belle whispered.

Jesse nodded. "You should have seen her face while we were driving home." He commented. "It was all I could do not to start laughing right then and there."

"Ohhh, thank goodness I wasn't with you!" His wife commented with a smile. "I don't think I could have handled it."

"Hmmm. All I had to do was remind myself how worried we were about her and that helped me a lot to keep a straight face." Jesse admitted. "A little bit of the cold shoulder now should make her think twice about pulling something like that again."

The downstairs bedroom door opened and Jed poked his head out.

"How did it go?" He asked quietly.

Jesse gave him the thumbs up sign and then Jed came out to replenish his coffee cup. He was over by the stove helping himself when Beth came downstairs, and seeing her friend, she sent him a warm smile.

"Hello Thaddeus!" She greeted him. "I really need to talk to you about…."

"Not right now Beth." Jed interrupted her as he headed back to his bedroom. "I ah…I have some words I have to decipher."

"But…."

Then he was gone, the bedroom door closing firmly behind him. Beth looked confused; what did he mean? Words to decipher? She looked to her mother but Belle turned her back on her and continued on with supper preparations. Beth creased her brow and turned to her father.

"I'm busy with the books right now Beth." He commented as he settled in at the dinning room table and started opening up the ledgers.

So then Beth smiled and turned to her little brother who had been watching the unfolding drama with intense interest. As soon as he locked eyes with his sister however, he quickly turned away and was once again enthralled with his artful masterpiece on the floor. Beth sighed dejectedly and then with one last glance around at her family she turned and sulked her way back up to her room. Dinner was going to be an uncomfortable affair.

As it turned out, the first fifteen minutes of sparse and cold dinner conversation was very uncomfortable, but fortunately for Beth the youngest member of the Jordan family decided that the punishment of his older sister had gone on for long enough. He finally broke under the pressure and started to cry and then Beth, who was probably hurt more by his outburst than any of the other cold shoulders, was instantly on her feet and over to him.

"Oh no sweetie." She begged him as she picked him up in her arms. "Don't cry. Please don't cry. I'm sorry."

She gave her brother a big hug and little JJ; still crying lustily put his arms around his sister's neck and returned the hug. He didn't know why everybody was mad at his favorite sibling, but he'd had enough of it and decided that it was time to put the matter to rest.

Everybody else at the table all sat back with a sigh and an 'oh well' type of response and the atmosphere instantly improved. Beth continued to stand by the table hugging her brother and whispering assurances to him until his sobs gradually settle down. Then he pushed himself off of her shoulder and staring into her eyes he smiled through his tears. Beth smiled back at him and gave him a kiss. He giggled and leaned in for another hug and then kissed her on the cheek too.

Even Jed felt the 'Aww' factor come in to play and then everyone was smiling and Beth returned her brother to his chair and she did likewise. Silence ensued once again. Beth sighed and realized that she had better face the music.

"I am sorry that I worried you all so much." She admitted. "I was just so intent on how to get out to see Joshua that I didn't realize how selfish I was behaving. But I can certainly see it now and I truly am sorry. I'm not sorry that I saw him but I'm sorry for what I put you all through."

Jesse and Belle exchanged looks and a quick silent conversation took place. Then Belle smiled.

"Alright." Jesse said. "Apology accepted. But don't you ever do anything like that again or I will lock you up and throw away the key until you're thirty-five!"

Beth smiled. "Yes Papa."

By the time coffee and pie had made its way to the table, the conversation was in full swing and Beth was in her glory relating the events she had witnessed while out at the prison.

"He got beat up again?!" Jed asked somewhat incredulously.

"Yes!" Beth was adamant. "And it was just for doing his job! He stopped one of the new guards from doing further damage to an injured man but that head guard—Carson?"

Jed nodded.

"Well, he didn't think that was a good enough reason for Joshua to 'break' the rules and he came into the infirmary later and, well…he really hurt Joshua."

"Ahhh, jeez!" Jed groaned. "And now I'm stuck here and can't get out to see him! How badly was he hurt, do you know?"

"Oh yes!" Beth answered him and then added with a hint of pride. "I helped to patch him up! It was really interesting watching the doctor set that broken rib! And then with the fingers, he just took each one and gave it a quick yank to get them looking like fingers again! You could hear the bones crackling as they got forced back into place!"

"Oh dear." Said Belle. "I'm not sure if this is quite the proper supper conversation. And it must have hurt poor Joshua!"

"Oh no! Dr. Morin wouldn't have done that to him while he was awake! He had put Joshua to sleep with morphine—I'm sure he didn't feel a thing!" Jed cringed at the mention of that drug but only Jesse noticed and smiled. "And it was really interesting Mama." Beth insisted. "Then Dr. Morin, he showed me how to splint the fingers and then tape them up to the other fingers so they wouldn't be able to move and then we wrapped the whole hand in gauze. We also taped up the rib so that it wouldn't be able to move as well, though I'm afraid Joshua is going to be awfully stiff for awhile."

Then she creased her brow and reflected. "I wasn't sure about that Dr. Morin at first—he can be awfully crude." Another quick look exchanged between mother and father. "But he's actually a very nice man once you get past his language."

Jed snorted. "Yeah, I suppose that's one way of describing Doc Morin. He is different, that's for sure."

"Morin?" Jesse asked. "Any relation to our deputy?"

"Ah, yeah." Jed recalled. "Heyes said that Joe is the Doc's nephew. I don't know how much they keep in touch though."

"Hmm. Small world."

Jed nodded, and then turned back to Beth. "What about Officer Reece?" He asked her. "Wasn't he around through any of this?"

"Yes." Beth nodded emphatically. "He stopped the one guard from hitting Joshua with that club thing while Joshua was trying to help the injured man, and he escorted us back to the infirmary. But then he left, and I suppose now that I think about it, that's probably what Mr. Carson was waiting for because he and the other guard showed up right after that. Dr. Morin tried to stop them from hitting Joshua, but he just got pushed out of the way and Sister Julia tried to reason with them, but….." Beth shrugged, indicating that no one was going to stop Carson once he got started. She wisely decided not to mention her part in stopping the onslaught, remembering the chewing out she had received the last time she had gotten in-between one of her friends and potential danger. "When Mr. Reece came by later, he was really mad." She smiled. "Officer Reece seems like a very nice man."

"Yeah." Jed commented dryly. "For a prison guard." He wisely decided not to mention the fact that it was Reece who had broken Heyes' arm a while back. AND worked him into the ground out in the pouring rain for being drunk! Still, that all may have been justified—considering. So he'd just leave it alone. "He does seem to be willing to help out and he keeps me informed of what is going on there. I expect I'll be hearing from him about this incident soon enough."

"Oh." Beth commented, hoping that Officer Reece wouldn't mention her standing up to two guards with bully clubs. Then she looked over at her father, building up the courage to breach a new but related topic. "Papa, I really feel that I have to do something about this. The conditions at that prison are terrible. Joshua doesn't even look like himself anymore!"

The two men at the table exchanged looks. Jesse had heard much the same concerns from Jed.

"Well." Jesse sighed. "I suppose it's a good thing that winter is setting in, because I don't want you going back there."

"But Papa…!"

Jesse held up his hand to silence her. "Not yet, Beth." He compromised. "Perhaps in the spring you can join Steven and Bridget, if he's willing to take you."

"I could go with Thaddeus!" Beth insisted.

"Ahhh…." Jed started to protest.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Jesse confirmed.

"But why not?" Beth protested. "Thaddeus would look after me."

"I have no doubt about that." Her father commented. "But you are still a maiden Beth and it would not be proper."

"Arrgg!" Beth was frustrated. "Thaddeus wouldn't do anything Papa! You know that!"

"I'm actually more concerned about what you might do!" Her father informed her. "You are a little bit too head strong for your own good sometimes. Still, we'll wait until spring and then we'll see. Besides, Hannibal may be out by then anyways." Then to Jed. "Don't you have an appointment to see the new Governor in January?"

"Ah, yup." Jed confirmed. "Me, Steven and Lom will be going to talk to him about all this."

"Well, here's hoping. In the meantime Beth, you can always carry on with your letter writing. Letting people know what you're trying to accomplish is a step in the right direction."

"That's true." Beth agreed. "And you're right; there really isn't much I can do through the winter anyways." She sighed. "I think I will start writing some more letters."

The other three adults at the table exchanged looks. Beth had agreed to that decree a little bit too easily for their liking. Then Jay started banging his cup and voicing his displeasure at still being entrapped in his chair. Dinner was over with! Why was everyone still just sitting around!?

"Mr. Thompson, a word if you would."

"Oh. Mr. Reece. Umm, something wrong?"

"Just some words of caution." Reece assured the younger man. "Being new here I realize that you are still trying to find your footing and that seeing as how Mr. Carson is the senior guard he would naturally be the best person for you to look to for instruction." Thompson nodded. "However, Mr. Carson does have a tendency to lean towards the aggressive side when dealing with certain inmates."

"Yeah." Thompson agreed. "But from what I've seen some of 'em ask for it."

"Sometimes, yes." Kenny had to agree. "But these men are not ignorant savages; most of them know what is fair punishment and what isn't."

"Yeah." Thompson was becoming suspicious.

"Now, again I realize that you're new and you really haven't had the chance to learn your way around yet or to know which of the inmates you can push and which ones you can't."

"Well I treat the inmates all the same Mr. Reece." Thompson insisted. "And if one of 'em pushes me, I'll push 'em back!"

"I certainly agree with the latter part of that statement." Kenny told him. "But if you insist on treating the inmates all the same then you are going to get yourself into trouble."

"But the rules are the rules." Thompson was trying to understand where this was going. "If an inmate breaks a rule then he needs to be punished. They have to be kept in line."

"Agreed." Kenny confirmed. "But there are different ways of doing that. The majority of the inmates here are just young down on their luck fellas who ran into some hard times. They just want to serve their sentence and go home. They learn the rules and they obey them and they don't generally give us much trouble.

Then there are others like Harris and Johnston who aren't too bright but tend to be mean. They learn the rules but will go out of their way to break them every chance they get, so those fellas, yeah; you gotta come down hard on them or they will just run you ragged.

Then we have the others like Boeman and Heyes who aren't stupid." Here Thompson snorted. Kenny hesitated and sent him a hard look. "And that's where you're making your first real mistake—and it's a mistake that could get you into trouble here."

"What's that?" Thompson asked feeling like he was already getting bored with this conversation.

"Somewhere along the line you've come to the conclusion that Heyes is stupid."

"Yeah, well." Thompson shrugged. "Everyone says that Hannibal Heyes is such a brilliant man, but I haven't seen any evidence of that. He seems kinda dim witted to me."

"And that assumption is going to get you into trouble." Kenny repeated. "Make no mistake about it; Heyes is a brilliant man—probably smarter than you and I put together." Another derisive snort from Thompson which Kenny chooses to ignore. "He knows the rules inside out, upside down, backwards and forewords and he knows how to manipulate them. He knows how to use them to his advantage and he knows how to circumvent them. And most importantly of all he knows how to ignore them. If he feels justified in seeking retaliation he will do so—rules be damned."

Thompson furrowed his brow.

"How can he ignore them?" Thompson asked. "If he breaks the rules then he will be punished."

"Yes, and he knows that." Kenny continued. "But he also knows what's fair and what isn't. Often the loss of privileges or a stint in the dark cell is enough to dissuade the inmates from breaking the rules again. Going after any of these men with the intent to do physical damage is usually a tactic that is not necessary to get the message across and only serves to create resentment. If you continue to abuse your privilege here and delve out unwarranted punishments, Heyes is the kind of man who will eventually retaliate. And he won't care about the punishment for doing so; he'll simply accept it as the price he has to pay."

"So you're telling me not to punish him for breaking the rules?"

"No, Mr. Thompson. I'm saying don't punish him unfairly. Respect the inmates and on the most part they will respect you. Don't back down from them and don't ever assume anything. The best piece of advice I can give you for working in a prison Mr. Thompson, is always watch your back, treat the inmates with respect and always be fair when it comes to delving out punishment. If you can get through the day knowing that you've done that, then you've had a good day."

"Yessir, Mr. Reece." Thompson responded. "I'll certainly keep that in mind."

"Good."

Then Thompson headed off to continue with his rounds. Kenny watched him go with some trepidation. He had the feeling that he hadn't gotten through to the man at all.

Heyes was shivering. He was back in his cell though far from being healed up enough to return to his regular work schedule. He was stiff and sore and the two broken fingers on his right hand made it difficult for him to write any letters so he had to content himself with reading and deciphering new words. The latest new word was 'Qualm' and Heyes had already known the meaning of that one and in his present mood and condition he had come up with a sentence quite quickly; 'Qualms!? Yeah! I have some qualms! I have qualms about spending another freezing winter in THIS DAMN PRISON!' Oh groan, sigh—whimper. I just wanna go home! Why can't I just go home! I'll be good…I promise….

Jed hadn't been able to make it out for his usual visit, and though it had been disappointing for Heyes, it hadn't come as a surprise. Right after Beth had departed for Colorado the winter had taken hold with a vengeance and the first of many blizzards had closed roads and shut down the trains so that even the mail was having a hard time getting through.

It was a tough time of year for the inmates. Not only was Christmas now fast approaching—which tended to make lonely hearts even lonelier, but the dark days and darker nights only made the cold more penetrating and the loneliness more acute.

Heyes was more prepared for the cold weather this year but he still felt the chill and he wondered how he had even survived it last year when he'd had very little to stave off the freezing temperatures. Of course, come to think of it; he almost hadn't survived it so things were already better this year. He tried to remind himself of that while he lay on his cot in his cell, in the dark, once again staring at a ceiling he couldn't see; things were better.

He was warmer, he was eating and he had friends. Jed Curry was still his partner and that was certainly better than where they were this same time last year. A new governor was in office and though that wasn't a guarantee of anything happening, it was certainly better than the same old dictate. Ohh, let's see; what else? Oh! The music! Yes that had been a life-saver. He'd turn that on in his mind again once he was ready to settle for the night. And Dr. Slosson with her lectures and the new words every week—he had to admit that this was sorta fun. Kenny was standing by him and Dr. Morin too. He wasn't quite sure where he stood with the Warden though; Heyes hadn't been taken up to see him since he was injured. That could go either way; if Warden Mitchell clued in to the fact that Heyes had outright lied to him there could be hell to pay. And Heyes really wished that Carson would go fall off a ledge somewhere. He could handle Thompson on his own, but him backing up Carson was not a winning proposition—at least not for Heyes.

Heyes rolled over onto his side and snuggled into his warm socks and mittens and toque and sweater and long johns and blankets and thought that the worse thing about the colder nights is that he didn't have a nice warm soft body to snuggle into as well. He no longer thought about sex all that often and this was both a relief and a concern for him. It was frustrating becoming aroused when there wasn't anything he could do about it other than—what he could do about it.

Then, of course as a young and healthy male, the fact that he didn't fantasize much about sex these days, even though it was far more comfortable to not, the fact that he didn't caused him to worry. Was he going to forget how? What would happen the next time (if there was a next time) he found himself in the embrace of a warm and enticing feminine bedmate? Would he still be able to, well—perform?

Oh the things a man would worry about when he has nothing else to do but stare into the darkness. Heyes sighed heavily and decided that it was late and time to try and sleep. He closed his eyes for real and settled even deeper into his warm cocoon. Who to listen to tonight, he thought. Something gentle and relaxing. Something that would calm his mind and relax his body—something soothing….Chopin, yeah. Something by Chopin.

Warden Mitchell was busy at his desk catching up with correspondence that had finally made its way to the prison. A series of nasty blizzards had slowed everything down from nunnery visits to supplies and to the mail service. But finally the clouds had departed, the temperatures dropped and the cold sun shone down on a white world of a winter wonderland and access roads got cleared, the snow packed down and life started to move again.

Mitchell was not too pleased on this particular morning however. The rush of backed up mail had brought with it a number of letters that had not brought good news. Indeed the news was rather irritating to say the least. Who in the world were these people who seemed to keep coming out of the woodwork, thinking that they knew more about running a prison than he did?

Mr. Curry he was getting used to even though the man could be a pain in the assets and Sister Julia of course had lodged her verbal complaint of unnecessary abuse. Then there was the lawyer, Mr. Granger who just wouldn't go away. What was that about? Usually once a case was settled and the convict incarcerated the lawyer would simply disappear; he was no longer being paid so why stick around? Indeed, Mr. Mitchell really had no contact with most of the lawyers who had handled the cases of the inmates. There was no point; the case was over and the defendant was simply handed over to the prison system and forgotten about.

But Mr. Granger had maintained contact. Not only with his client, but with Mr. Mitchell himself and seemed to be of the opinion that he had some say in the treatment of said client. Somehow or other, word of Heyes' most recent punishment had gotten out (probably by the Sister) and the lawyer had been very quick to send out a letter of reprimand. Mitchell had dismissed it at first, after all what was the lawyer actually going to do about it now that winter had set in? There was really nothing he could do about it anyways; this was Mitchell's prison and he would run it his way! Besides that, Heyes' punishment had been legitimate—attacking a guard in the middle of the work floor right in front of the assembly of inmates, of course he'd have to be punished for that!

But now Mitchell was starting to get very irritated as he worked his way through the pile of letters on his desk. Mrs. Abigail Stewart from Topeka Kansas—who the hell was that? Of course Heyes was originally from Kansas so maybe she was a childhood friend or something? Someone else who seemed to think that she knew better! Her letter had been professional and to the point, but there had been an underlying threat suggesting that the Warden was being watched and that steps would be taken if the unwarranted abuses continued. Unwarranted abuses!? Did Heyes have his own telegraph office in his cell or something?

Now Mitchell found himself staring at yet another letter written by a woman—what was it with these women anyways? Didn't they have enough to do looking after their households and their children and keeping their noses out of men's affairs? This latest letter was from a Miss Beth Jordan, (well that explains it; she's not married so has nothing better to do with her time) and she intimates that she somehow has first hand knowledge of excessive punishment being delved out and that this treatment of the inmates will not go unchallenged. Mr. Heyes has friends (obviously)! And his friends are not going to stand by and allow this to continue! Something is going to be done…etc. etc….

Mitchell sighed in frustration. This was simply the rantings of a young and flighty female who needed a man in her life to take her in hand and teach her her proper place! Something was going to be done indeed! Mitchell snorted. But still, a nagging doubt was beginning to wiggle its way into his gut and his jaw tightened as he sat and considered his options.

Perhaps it would be better, for the time being, to back off of Mr. Heyes. Let things settle down somewhat and give his friends the opportunity to relax and direct their attentions elsewhere. Friends and family could be such a nuisance sometimes and fortunately most of the inmates didn't have much in the way of outside support. But apparently Mr. Heyes did, so Mr. Mitchell decided that he was going to have to start dealing with that particular inmate in a different manner.

The Warden decided; he would back off Heyes for a while and let the inmate relax; let him get back into his regular routine. He could keep his privileges, keep his contacts and they could both carry on pretending that they were pulling the wool over the other one's eyes. But no low-life inmate and his friends—and lawyer—were going to tell him how to run his prison! Just let them try it and they'd see then what Warden Mitchell was truly capable of!

So, life for Heyes did tend to settle down again through the winter at least when it came to cause and effect, crime and punishment. The Warden pretty much left Heyes alone and was no longer asking him for much of anything and Heyes was just as happy not being put in a position where he was having to make things up.

Christmas came and went without too much of a hubbub. He went to the special Christmas service at the chapel, but decided not to stay for the handing out of gifts by the Sisters. He felt that his relationship with Sister Julia was beyond that now and that he had already received so much more from her in the way of friendship and support than any of the other inmates, so let the others receive their gifts and Heyes would just discreetly depart.

Sister Julia had other intentions along those lines however and when she didn't find Heyes in amongst the assembly in the chapel, she requested that a guard escort her to Heyes' cell so that she could deliver his gifts to him in person. She was disappointed to find herself in the company of Officer Thompson for this endeavor as she was having a difficult time forgiving him for his part in the assault upon her friend. In any case she was civil and polite to him and kept her own personal dislike for the man under wraps.

"On your feet Heyes." Thompson ordered. "You have company."

Heyes glanced up irritably from 'A Christmas Carol' and then saw who his visitor was and very quickly put his book aside and got to his feet.

"Sister Julia." He mumbled a little self-consciously, feeling embarrassed now that he had 'ducked out' on her in the chapel. But then he smiled. "Merry Christmas Sister."

"And a Merry Christmas to you too Joshua." The Sister returned his smile. "I realize that perhaps you feel that you are not deserving of any more gifts from the convent—or from me for that matter. But I must insist."

"Oh no Sister. You really don't need to." Heyes protested. "You've already given me so much."

"Nonsense! It's Christmas." The Sister responded in her usual jovial good spirits. "The children over at the orphanage made some cookies for you and they were very adamant that I be sure to give them to you—in person! So, here they are."

Heyes accepted the small box that apparently was full of Christmas cookies and smiled a little abashedly. The children made cookies especially for him?

"Thank you." He said. "But why…?"

The Sister smiled a little sadly. "They feel a connection to you Joshua." She explained. "They all know that you and Thaddeus were orphaned at a young age, just as they've been. They all read the dime novels about you and the older ones have all the newspaper articles from your trial. Whenever I visit with them they insist on hearing all about how you're doing and hoping that you're well." She sighed with a little bit of frustration. "I can't count how many times I have retold the story of how we all met. They seem to like hearing that one over and over and over again."

Now Heyes really felt embarrassed. He saw Thompson roll his eyes and was tempted to punch him in the face, but seeing as how it was Christmas and all, he refrained.

"They ask about me?"

"Oh yes."

"Oh." He looked down at the box in his hands, not quite sure how to respond to that. "I hope I don't disappoint them." He finally commented.

"No, I don't think you do." She assured him and placed a gentle hand on his arm as reassurance.

Thompson shifted uncomfortably. He really didn't like the Sister getting that close to this particular inmate, he knew that for some reason he and the Sister were friends, but he didn't trust Heyes and Carson had warned him that the man could be unpredictable. Still, the Sister apparently knew what she was doing so Thompson let it go but remained very watchful.

He still couldn't understand why she insisted on calling him 'Joshua'!

"They admire you." The Sister continued. "You give them hope."

"Hope?" Heyes asked, incredulously. "I've been an outlaw most my life only to end up in prison—how does that give them hope?"

"I don't know." Sister Julia admitted. "All I do know is that they admire and respect you. I guess they see in you someone who had a hard beginning, yet rose up to make something of yourself." Heyes snorted. "I know. In the eyes of the law you are a criminal, but in the eyes of those children you are a 'gentleman bandit' who is dashing, romantic and even honourable—not to mention; very handsome." She smiled again. "In the eyes of a child."

Heyes laughed. "Yes well, so long as they don't go off to become thieves and bandits themselves. There's not much romantic or honourable about that!"

"I don't think they will." She assured him. "Most of them give every indication of growing up into fine citizens. But in the meantime, a little innocent romanticism isn't going to do them any harm. I will tell them that you very much appreciated the cookies."

"Yes indeed!" Heyes agreed. "And wish them all a Merry Christmas from me."

"I will." The Sister told him. "And now this second parcel is of course from the kind ladies in our parish who wished to contribute. I hope you will find it useful."

"Ah, yes ma'am." Heyes accepted the second parcel, having given up any thoughts of refusing the gifts. If it was something he already had he could always pass it on. "Thank you."

"Goodbye for now Joshua."

"Goodbye Sister."

Heyes was left alone in his cell once again and he sat down on his cot, holding his box of cookies and thinking what an odd circumstance this was. Eventually Heyes opened up the box and took a look at the assortment of oddly shaped pieces of baked dough each adorned with a different colourful design depicting little Christmas items. One was a tree, another looked like snowflakes, another was, well Heyes supposed it was a cross—and was that supposed to be a running horse? A sheriff's badge?

The convict smiled and picking up the treat with the badge design on it he took a sampling nibble and had to admit that it wasn't too bad. Quite tasty actually—not quite as good as Belle's baking, but nobody's baking was as good as Belle's baking! He'd have to find a way to thank the children for this little pleasure, he didn't know how, but hopefully something would come up somewhere down the line.

He finished the one cookie and then closed up the box and slipped them onto the floor under his table. Then he took the second parcel that Sister Julia had given him and ripped open the brown paper wrapping. Some woolen long johns! Yes, those will come in handy. And some more socks. Good. He smiled again and reprimanded himself for being too proud sometimes. He should be more willing to accept gifts when offered to him, especially at Christmas time and just be happy that people who didn't even know him were willing to give. He would be in dire straits again this winter if not for unsolicited gifts!

He settled himself back into his cot and picked up his book again, all prepared to read the afternoon away. Then he furrowed his brow and sent a discerning look over towards the box of cookies. Oh well, it's Christmas, why not! So he reached down and grabbing the box of cookies he brought them up to rest on his stomach and then commenced to read the afternoon away while munching on sweet treats. Better him than the rats.

Then it was that on the Saturday that fell between Christmas and New Years, Lom came to visit. But as soon as Heyes saw the look on his friends face he knew that this wasn't just a social call. Something had happened.

"Hey Lom." Heyes greeted him, trying to keep the atmosphere light. "Nice to see ya'. Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Yeah Heyes, not bad." Lom answered as he sat down opposite him at the table. "Had a nice supper over there at the Widow Jenkins' place. You remember her, don't ya'? Husband died a couple of years ago from influenza."

"Ahhh, nope can't say as I do Lom, sorry." Heyes admitted, and then smiled. "Is she someone you been seeing lately?"

"Well, yeah a bit." Lom said. "Nothing serious, you know. Just two people with nowhere else to be on the holidays."

"Uh huh."

Then Lom sighed and sent his friend an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry to have to tell ya' this Heyes." He finally confessed. "But Governor Baxter has resigned his office."

"What? Already?" Heyes hated to admit it but he was disappointed at this news. He had been trying not to put too much hope into the possibility that a new governor might be more willing to re-access his case. But secretly he had been looking forward to the meeting that his friends had booked to go and speak with Governor Baxter and he had allowed hope in sneak into his conscious musings.

"Yeah." Lom confirmed. "He put in his resignation about ten days ago and all appointments that had been booked for hearings have been cancelled—for now."

"Well…." Heyes was almost speechless in his disappointment. "What do we do then? Can't we just book an appointment with the next governor?"

"There isn't a governor for the territory right now." Lom explained. "President Cleveland has appointed the Secretary of the Territory, ahhh, a Mr. Elliott Morgan just to fill in the office until a new governor can be sworn in."

"Oh." Heyes mumbled. "Can't we make an appointment to see Mr. Morgan? Considering he's temporary he might be quite happy to give me a pardon." Heyes knew he was grasping at straws here.

"No." Lom told him. "The governor's office isn't taking any appointments right now. It seems that Mr. Morgan is just in there to tend to the necessary duties to keep the territory running. He's not legally able to make decisions like granting pardons or instating new laws or anything like that. Basically he's just a figure head until a new governor takes over the office."

Heyes sighed and stared silently down at his shackled hands. This was hitting him hard; harder than he would have thought. He hadn't realized how much he was holding on to each and every little hope until that hope got squashed and then he felt like he was set back right to the beginning again.

"I'm sorry Heyes." Lom said. "We didn't want to just tell ya' that in a letter and since Steven and the Kid are kinda snowed in I offered to try and get to ya', since I'm the closest. I would have got here sooner but, well the weather just wasn't co-operating."

Heyes nodded but didn't say anything for a few moments. Lom sighed and quietly shook his head in frustration.

"I know we keep on sayin' this Heyes, and it's probably sounding pretty hollow to ya' by now, but ya' gotta just hang in there. We're gonna keep on tryin'."

Heyes nodded again, still looking down at his hands.

"How long?" He asked in a slightly strained voice. "How long before a new governor will be in office?"

"I donno." Lom admitted. "Hopefully early in the new year. As soon as he can, Steven will be booking us a new appointment and we'll get in there to plead your case. So, like I said; just hang in there okay?"

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, okay Lom." Then he smiled and tried to brighten up a little bit, after all it wasn't often that Lom came to visit. "It is good to see ya' Lom and I do appreciate you comin' all this way in the winter in order to tell me this in person. That means a lot."

"Well, I figured it was the least I could do." Lom responded. "And I have to admit I wanted to check up on ya', make sure you're eatin' again!"

Heyes rolled his eyes, but somewhat good-naturedly. "Yeah Lom, I'm eating. There's nothing terribly appetizing here, but I sure don't want to get sick again."

"That's the smartest thing you've said in awhile." Lom commented. "And yeah, I guess you do look a little better than the last time I saw ya'. Things been going okay lately? You staying outa trouble? Kid wrote me a letter sayin' that you got 'punished' again. What was that all about?"

Heyes shrugged. "I overstepped the boundaries." He admitted. "But a man's life was on the line so I still feel that I was justified."

"Heyes…."

"No, I know Lom." Heyes conceded and then sighed with some resignation. "I'm learnin' my way around here better now; like who my friends are and who I need to watch out for. I'm still helping in the infirmary and I'm trying to stay away from the people who don't like me. I'm also working hard at keeping my mouth shut (a bit of a snort from Pearson standing by the door) and doing what I'm told." Then he smiled ironically. "I think it's finally sinking in that if I just do what I'm told, and behave myself then I won't get hit!"

Lom chuckled. "Yeah, well Heyes, you never were one for taking orders that's for sure. But sometimes ya' gotta bend a little, or you're gonna break."

Heyes grinned until his dimples showed through "Oh you know me Lom; go with the flow."

"Yeah, mmm hmmm." Lom didn't sound too convinced. "Well, I'd better be heading back Heyes. Just do me a favour and stay outa trouble will ya'?"

"Yeah Lom, I'll try." Heyes agreed. "And thanks again for coming. It was good ta' see ya'."

Pearson escorted Heyes back to his cell after his visit with the Sheriff and even the guard could tell that the inmate's mood had once again dipped into melancholy. Of course Pearson couldn't have helped but over-hear the conversation between the convict and his friend and it didn't take a genius to know that the news had not been good.

Pearson didn't say anything to his charge all throughout the removal of the shackles or during the walk back through the prison proper, but once they were approaching Heyes' cell door, the guard put a hand on the convict's shoulder and much to Heyes' surprise gave him an encouraging comment.

"Not all's bad Heyes." Pearson said. "The recent influx of mail as brought you some letters. Maybe those will cheer ya' up a bit."

"Oh." Heyes' surprise at the comment caused him to speak out of turn, but the guard ignored it and he turned and simply walked away, leaving Heyes to stand outside his cell door and looking at what was indeed an influx of letters scattered over his cot.

Heyes furrowed his brow in consternation. He didn't think he had that many friends out there to make that large a pile of letters. This was odd indeed. Hmmm. Heyes finally uprooted himself from the hallway and went over to his cot and gathered all the letters up together. Then he sat down on said cot with his back and pillow nestled up against the corner of the wall and began to ruffle through them to see who they were all from and which ones would have priority.

Well, there was one from the Kid; that wasn't a surprise. But it was awfully thick so it probably contained letters from Belle and Beth as well so that one would certainly be on the top of the pile. Then there was one from Bridget, separate from the others but he would read that one fairly early on too. They were all probably going to be talking about the same things anyways; like Christmas and the fine dinner and how Karma is doing and sending him warm thoughts, etc. etc. But he still liked to read about those things, even if they did make him feel a bit homesick—it would be far worse if they didn't bother to tell him about their holidays at all. That would be awful!

But then he started coming across little letters that weren't in envelopes, they were just single sheets of paper folded two times over and with a person's first name printed rather crudely on the outside. These had obviously not been mailed, but simply dropped off by someone who had access to the prison. Heyes' curiosity was definitely aroused and he shuffled through them, mumbling the names out loud as he read them thinking that maybe he might recognize some of them.

'Melanie, William, Todd, Carol, Joe, Sally, Peter, Gillian…' Heyes was feeling even more confused; he didn't know any of these people. From the style of printing these were obviously children, but why would a bunch of children be writing to him? He opened up one of the letters and began to read it, and a chill went through him that touched his heart. These were the orphans! The ones whom Sister Julia had mentioned!

Heyes swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know why receiving letters from those children would cause him some distress, would make him feel—vulnerable, but it did. He wasn't sure if he wanted to read them; even though he didn't want to admit it, he was afraid of what old emotions their words might stir up within him again. Did he really want to go down that path? What were these children to him, anyways? Didn't he have enough heartache? Didn't he have enough worries without including a bunch of orphans looking to him for words of encouragement?

His brain kept telling him to cast the letters aside and go on to reading the ones from his friends, from the real people in his life but for some reason his body would not respond. He just sat there staring at the letter in his hand and reading the crudely written words that were scribbled upon it.

**_'_**_Dear Mr. Heyes; I hope you have a fun Christmas. We had chicken and even pie. Did you have a good dinner to? I hope you got lots of presents, I got a new sweater, it's to big for me but Sister Julia says that I will grow into it. I hope she's right cause I really like it! Did Kid Curry come and have Christmas dinner with you?...'_

Than another one;

_Mr. Heyes; I'm sorry your in prison, that can't be much fun. Do you get to go outside? I really like reading about you in the stories. I hope I can be like you when I grow up. I'm sorry you lost your mommy and daddy. I lost my mommy and daddy to so I know what that feels like. Do you have any friends at the prison? I have friends here and they're important to have so I hope you have some there. Maybe Kid Curry can come and live with you, that way he can be your friend there too then you wouldn't be so lonely…'_

Once Heyes got started reading the letters he couldn't stop. He found himself going from laughing out loud at some innocent but surprisingly accurate comment from one little girl, to fighting a tightening throat and having to swallow down emotion from another insightful comment from a youthful heart. By the time he had finished reading the ten or so letters from the children he found himself to be emotionally exhausted. He leaned back against his pillow with his knees drawn up and just stared straight ahead at nothing for the longest time. He had absolutely no idea how to respond to this!

Finally he sighed and began to gather the letters together in a neat pile and tried to pull his mind back from the past and to focus again on the here and now. His first option, he supposed, was to talk with Sister Julia. Obviously she was the one who had delivered these letters to his cell—or at least had someone deliver them. So, next time he ran in to her over at the infirmary there would be some explaining to do. Still, Heyes had to admit to himself that it had been sweet and he did after all, appreciate it.

So, he took the pile of loose letters and put them in his box under the table and then turned his attention back to the letters that had actually arrived with the post. There was the one from Kid and the one from Bridget and then…Oh! A third one that he hadn't noticed earlier. He picked it up and then froze—again. It was from Abi. A smile flitted across his face and he settled back into his pillow and opened the envelope.

The letter had been posted some six weeks previously, but the bad weather across the country had of course delayed it. She hadn't written with Christmas in mind, just feeling the need to touch base.

_Mr. Heyes,_

_I do hope that my last letter wasn't too upsetting for you. That really wasn't my intention, but I felt compelled to write because of a telegram I got from Jed informing me that you had been neglecting your health and not eating enough. That has been preying on my mind as the winter has begun to close in again with a vengeance, and I do hope that you have taken heed of Jed's advice and started being a little more careful._  
_For goodness sake! There are easier ways to kill yourself, Man. Why are you putting your body through illness and privation? Are you dumb? I thought you were supposed to be smart, or is worrying the people who care for you a matter of insouciance for you. Poor Jed is worried sick. If you can't look after your health for yourself, then at least do it for him and the others who care about you. Just think about the feelings of helplessness sweeping through your friends and please don't add to that. Besides, you will get out of there eventually and you surely don't want to be a broken man and unable to live a rich, full life as a free man; do you? Try focusing on the space in between your ears and realize how much you are hurting people. If that doesn't work, think how pleased some people would be to see you destroyed and broken, and resolve to rob them of that!'_

Heyes couldn't help but smile at this reprimand as he could so easily hear her lecturing tone and see the finger being wagged under his nose!

'Yes mother.' He mouthed silently through his grin.

His smile continued as warmth of happiness spread through him, knowing that she still thought of him and still, apparently, cared a great deal about him.

_'Well, nagging over, for now, but I can't promise it's completely over if I hear of any more nonsense from you.  
I thought I'd update you on the efforts going on outside. Your friends are still working hard, lobbying, petitioning and making sure that every person of influence is fully aware that nobody is about to sit back and let you be forgotten. All the efforts continue and that should help you to realize that if they haven't given up, then you shouldn't either. You have a part to play in this too, you know.  
For my own part, I have continued to apply my own particular skill set to your issues. You may be aware of a few minor successes, but the change in faces has been frustrating, especially as I am working very much in isolation. I have to start again to find some new leverage. I have no doubt that I will. It's the nature of the beast, and I have dealt with politicians for a large part of my life, but obstacles have been placed in my way and doors, previously open to me, have been slammed in my face. Mind you, you know my philosophy; if people underestimate you it only makes it easier to get one over on them._

_These men see a woman and seriously underestimate me, not realizing that there's more than one way to skin a cat, and I have to fall back on more than just my persuasive arguments. As you are no doubt aware, I am not able to be as mobile as I previously was, so I am finding progress slow. Make no mistake though, it does continue.  
I am sorry to tell you, but you have probably already realized, that so far we have not been successful in doing anything other than ruffling a few feathers. We keep trying, though. Remember that, and support us as we continue in our battle to get you released. Water can cut through stone under the right circumstances, so we keep right on, drip, drip, dripping away at the resistance. _

_I wonder, are you thinking of me at night as I asked? Part of me was afraid that you would screw up my letter and throw it in the bin without even reading it. I know how angry you were, but I don't know if that continues to burn in you. For my part, I set time aside and I have done as I promised. I will hold our best times in my heart again tonight. I do want to offer an olive branch and make some peacebetween us._

_Abigail._

Then his smile grew into a dimpled grin as he noted that this time, Abi had included a return address!—an open invitation for him to respond back to her.

He sat for some time just staring at the letter, not wanting to put it down and move on—it was that precious to him. He re-read it numerous times and ran his fingers gently across the ink, as though touching the words was in a way, touching her. Finally, he sighed again for the umpteenth time and then set the letter aside for now. He wanted to respond to it right away, but his barely healed fingers were still aching from the short letter he had written to Bridget so he knew he'd have to hold off for a bit. In the long run that might be a good thing as it would force him to slow down and consider his response before putting pencil to paper.

He wanted it to be perfect.

He sat back, resting his head against his pillow and closing his eyes. What an exhausting afternoon this had become—what a rollercoaster ride! He was almost afraid to open up and read the remaining letters now as he wasn't sure that his constitution could handle it all! Then he chuckled to himself at how silly he was being; of course he wanted to hear how Christmas had been for his family; that was important! And maybe, if he tried real hard, maybe in reading about it he could pretend that he had been there too.

So, with his eyes still closed he reached over to where he knew the letters were and picked one. Then bringing it up to his face he opened his eyes and saw that it was the letter from Bridget. He opened the envelope and removing the sheets of paper he discovered that there were two letters enclosed; one from Bridget and one from Clementine. Of course, how could he have forgotten about Clementine?

He picked up Bridget's letter first and began to read;

_Dear Joshua;_

_What a marvelous Christmas this has been! We were all able to make it out to the ranch for the big day and a good thing too since Steven and I (well, actually just Steven) had something very pressing to speak with Momma and Papa about! Of course, it was to ask Papa's permission for us to become betrothed and to start thinking about marriage!_

_This was hardly a surprise for me since Steven and I have been discussing the possibility for some time now, and I was certain that Papa would give his permission as I know that both he and Momma are quite fond of Steven. Still, there are always those nagging doubts that things won't go the way we expect and all through the journey from Denver to the ranch my stomach was full of knots and butterflies!_

_All my worries were for not however, since Papa did indeed willingly give his permission and Momma was thrilled and couldn't stop smiling all day. Beth seemed a little put out and I don't really know where that was coming from, but Clem just laughed it off and stated that that was her problem! Fortunately by the time we all settled in for Christmas supper Beth had come round and seemed to be just as excited by the coming event as I was. Thaddeus didn't say too much of anything. _

_Of course we were hoping to plan the wedding for sometime this coming summer as this would seem the logical course of action, and Momma declared that we must have the wedding out at the ranch, that way there would be lots or room for everybody. All of this is quite appropriate but I must admit there is one nagging issue that causes me to hesitate in setting a date._

_That issue, my dearest friend—is you. In all the imaginings I've had of my wedding day you have always been there to share in the joy of it with me. It seems to me to be a betrayal to you and to our friendship if I were to go ahead and set the date of my wedding before knowing that you will be able to attend. We are all trying so hard to attain your release from that horrid place and it would bring me so much pleasure to have you with us on this special day that I find it impossible to commit to a date until I know that you are free!' _

_Here Heyes shook his head with some feeling of sadness and mumbled to himself. "Oh no, sweetheart. Don't wait for me."_

_'I love you so much Joshua! I miss you so much. All my hopes and prayers are that you will be home with us again soon! Please take care of yourself and don't you dare get sick again!_

_Bridget.'_

Heyes quickly put the letter down and grabbed the tin box that had once held cookies from under the table and brought out his own stash of paper and a pencil. He knew he had to write down his answer to his friend before the thoughts and the emotions of her loving words were washed away by the news from others.

He took one of his many books to use as a support and began to write his response.

_'Dear Bridget;_

_First off, of course; congratulations on your betrothal! I must admit that I too am not surprised at this news as it was obvious that you and Steven were very serious about one another. I was also aware of the high regard your parents hold him in, so I would actually have been far more surprised if permission had been withheld. _

_I am also touched and greatly honoured that you hold me in such esteem that you would be willing to postpone your wedding date in order to assure my attendance. But please don't put off your special day on my account. I know everyone is working very hard to secure my release and for this I am very much indebted to you all but even I am under no illusions as to how long this could still take._

_Please have your wedding day and enjoy it to its fullest. I may not be able to attend in my person, but I will be there in my mind and in my heart just as surely as I know that I will be there in yours._

_I cannot help but think back to that gangly teenager I first met not so many years ago. Your mother dragging you and your sister out from under the front porch and doing her best to brush off the dirt and the spider webs from your face and hair. I knew in that instant that I liked you and you have continued to amaze and inspire me as you've grown from that gun-toting tomboy into this intelligent and beautiful young woman._

_Steven is a lucky man and has shown great wisdom in that he apparently realizes this himself. That once having met you he would be willing to go to the ends of the earth (or at least to Denver) to ensure his continued attendance upon you. You are worth it! Be happy Bridget! Be happy for me and for yourself! And you had better write to me in great detail every moment of your special day—so take notes!_

_All my love; Joshua.'_

Heyes settled back then and re-read his letter, hoping that he had expressed himself eloquently without coming across as too mushy. She was marrying Steven after all—not him! He smiled, feeling like he was all done in. What a day! And now he had to add aching fingers to the list of inconveniences; why couldn't Carson have broken the fingers on his left hand, for goodness sakes!? Then the buzzer sounded, announcing that it was supper time—if that swill could actually be called 'supper'!

Oh dear. He sighed and pushing the numerous letters off to the side, he swung his legs over to the floor and prepared to join the herd heading down to the mess hall. He knew he had to eat so he may as well get it over with. Perhaps once he had tended to that chore he would feel rejuvenated and bringing a coffee back up to his cell with him he would be able to continue with his letter reading until the shadows of the evening and the tiredness of his eyes and spirit would settle him down for the night.

Heyes did indeed continue to read letters for the rest of the evening, but he was tired by this time and decided to focus on the lighter stuff and save the Kid's letter for the next day. He settled back onto his cot and picked up the note from Clem.

_Dear Heyes;_

_If you haven't already read the letter for Bridget then I suggest that you do so now because I have no intentions of going over it again! She's been sooo gushy and excited about the whole business that I've about had it with weddings and rings and happily every afters! What is it about young ladies thinking that marriage is the end all and be all and the only way to find happiness!? Anyway, enough of that! I'm sure she will be very happy, etc. etc. and let's move on!_

_Christmas out at the Jordan's place was certainly enjoyable even though I was surrounded by all the signs of domesticity. Not only was Bridget and Steven full of their happy plans for the summer, but the doctor, David Gibson and his wife were there as well, and she's starting to show the bun in the oven I can tell you! I think Kid and I were both feeling a little out of place with all this 'family' stuff going on, but I guess that's what Christmas is all about. So we put on brave faces._

_Beth was a little out of sorts with her older sister basically taking over the conversation for the day. All attention was on Bridget and you know how sisters can get with that 'sibling rivalry' thing. Well, maybe you don't, I don't know—but it can get bad sometimes, believe me! Not that I'd know what a sister can be like, but I can imagine! Anyway, Beth settled down as the day wore on and actually seemed to be happy for her sister after all._

_Dinner was wonderful! You're right—Mrs. Jordan is a wonderful cook and of course everyone ate way too much! But it was Christmas after all so what better excuse to make a pig of yourself. After supper was cleared away, we ladies all adjourned to the sitting room and spent the evening talking about wedding plans and expected babies, and of course—you!_

_Beth told us all about her adventures at the prison and all the things that she had seen there and how she has been busy writing letters again! I certainly hope these things will all help in some way Heyes, although by now you must think it is all a waste of time. I know the men who were all sitting around the dinning room table with their brandies were spending most of the evening discussing you and the plans they were making seemed rather intense. I was not made privy to those plans however so I cannot relate them to you. Hopefully Kid will get around to that, and by 'that' I mean informing BOTH of us as to their plans! I do so hate being left out!_

_I have spent the night here at the ranch and the three of us will be heading back to Denver probably tomorrow if the weather holds. So I am writing this letter on the go—so to speak, as I hope to post it along with Bridget's in the hopes that it will get to you quickly now that the weather does seem to have let up a bit. You'll probably be getting a whole stack of letters all at once but I guess that's okay._

_I feel like I want to ask how your Christmas went, but considering where you are I can't think that it was all that 'Merry'. Still, I hope there was something of the holiday spirit to the day and that you got a decent meal out of it in any case. We all sent gifts to you in one big package, so if you don't have it yet it should be arriving soon. _

_I hope you are healing up okay from your last encounter with the 'mean' guard, which is how Beth tends to refer to him. The 'mean' guard and the 'nice' guard tend to come in to her conversations a lot lately. Can't imagine there being a 'nice' guard at a prison like that, but I suppose it's all relative._

_Anyway, bedtime now—must be off! Take care of yourself Heyes and don't go getting sick again! We have enough to worry about with you without adding that to it! Hopefully we will all be out to see you once the weather becomes more agreeable and the next batch of news will be delivered in person._

_Bye for now;_

_Clementine._

Heyes sat back with a sigh. Jeez, even reading her letters was exhausting! Where in the world does that woman get all her energy!? Still, having read it, her comments about the others sitting around the dinning room table and making plans concerning himself got his curiosity aroused and though he was tired he eyed Jed's letter now with the intend of reading it after all.

He opened up the thick envelope and sure enough there were letters from Jed, Belle and Beth all folded into a neat package. Heyes fingered through the papers and pulled out the ones from his cousin and settled in to read.

_Well, if you've had a chance to read Bridget's letter I suppose you can guess at what a commotion it made around here! If you haven't read her letter yet, I suggest you do so now or I may end up ruinin' her surprise for you—oh jeez, I hope you have it! Anyway, enough of that, I'll leave it to the ladies to fill you in on all that stuff!_

_Beth did say that Carson—that bastard! Got you pretty good again, and this time just for doin' your job! I sure would like to send Wheat and the boys in there to teach him a lesson, he might have a different view of his situation if he had the entire Devil's Hole gang to contend with! Anyway, I hope you're feelin' better Heyes and I'm sure glad that you got that Doc and Kenny both watchin' out for ya'._

_Anyway, we all got to discussing things around the supper table after the dinner had been cleared away—funny how a lot of intense conversation happens at that time, kinda like us sittin' around the camp fire after a long day of ridin'. I can't remember how many serious talks we had just sitting there watchin' the fire and drinkin' coffee. Jeez, in some ways I kinda' miss those days Heyes—well, not everything about those days, but parts of it. _

_Oh well, back to what I was talkin' about. Steven has suggested another strategy that might have some merit but could take some time to work out (And Kenny; I know you read all of Heyes' letters before he gets them, so first off, I hope you and your family had a nice Christmas and second; listen up here cause this just might involve you.)._

_Like I was sayin' we were all sitting around the table and of course the conversation just naturally drifted over into talking about you (Heyes that is, not Kenny)…_

_Heyes;_

"What's happening with your appointment now that Governor Baxter has resigned?" Jesse asked the assembly. "Will you still be able to get in to present your case?"

Jed groaned, but Steven beat him to the answer.

"No." He regretfully admitted. "All the appointments got cancelled and apparently Mr. Morgan isn't seeing anyone. I guess he has his hands full just getting the mess cleaned up that his two predecessors left behind."

"Oh brother!" Was Jesse's somewhat sardonic reply. "And no idea who the next governor is going to be?"

"Well, yes." Steven answered. "There are a couple of contenders, but unfortunately the favorite so far is Thomas Moonlight."

Jed perked up. "Moonlight?" He asked. "That name sounds very familiar—not that you'd ever forget that name once you heard it! But still, he did a lot during the war didn't he?"

"Oh yes!" Steven was emphatic. "He's originally from Kansas and rode with the Militia during the war and he had a great deal to do with bringing in Quantrill. He was also very active in the politics of Kansas after the war until he moved out this way. He would be a strong governor for Wyoming, but not too sympathetic to outlaws I'm afraid."

Jed sighed. "Yeah, I remember him now. Like you say; he'd probably be good for Wyoming, but not so good for Heyes right now."

"Still." Steven tried to perk things up. "I will solicit an appointment with him and see where it goes—the worst he can do is throw us out of his office."

The attitudes of the other three men at the table seemed somewhat downtrodden so Steven thought that he would put forth an idea that had been simmering on the back burner of his brain for a couple of months.

"I do have another suggestion." He offered and was met with three expectant expressions. "It seems to me, as I'm sure you have all noticed that our current course of action has not resulted in much success." Met here with numerous nods of agreement. "Yes. What I might suggest next, well, it could take some time and might even be dangerous for those who are working in the prison. But we might be able to set up a hearing to present our case. It would be similar to a court case, except that Heyes would not need to attend, but we would be expected to present evidence of 'wrong doing', or 'miscarriage of justice' that sort of thing. We would be presenting our case to high government officials, perhaps even to the governor himself."

"You mean we can do that?" Asked Jed. "Why didn't you suggest this before?"

"Because, aside from an extremely hard sentence, there was no evidence of wrong doing." Steven explained. "The length of sentence was at the Judge's discretion and would not be enough in itself to warrant an official hearing. Also, up to this point any punishments Heyes has received have been justified…"

Here, Jed snorted in disgust.

"Yes, I know Jed." Steven sympathized with him. "But according to the law, as long as the Warden stays within the boundaries laid out by the penal system then any punishments he delves out are at his discretion."

"Well then why would you think we could get a hearing now?" Jesse asked. "Nothing's changed."

"No, I disagree Jesse." Steven pointed out. "A lot has changed. I know you were very angry at Beth for what she did in sneaking into the prison, but I for one am glad she did it. The fact that she is not an employee of the penal system and did witness first hand an unwarranted assault upon Heyes could be invaluable to us."

"You mean all we have to do is take what Beth saw to a hearing and we could get Hannibal pardoned?" Jesse asked rather incredulously.

"Well, no. It's not quite that simple." Steven admitted. "Like I said; it could take some time. But it's a beginning. What I suggest now is that we all start keeping notes. Especially you Jed, since you are in contact with Heyes more than the rest of us. You need to write down everything Heyes tells you of what is going on behind the scenes. Take note of the dates and the names of people involved. We need to build a foundation of wrong-doing so that we can walk into a hearing and present to the board a solid example of on-going abuses."

Here Steven paused, knowing that his next suggestion might really cause some feathers to rustle.

"I am also of a mind to challenge the validity of the penal system itself. Many of the standing rules, to my mind, over a period of time could cause psychological damage to the inmates and this open standard towards corporal punishment just leaves too much room for abuse. Things that are considered legitimate punishments, well people behaving like that out here in the 'real world' would probably end up in prison themselves for assault! I really feel that it is time for this system to be challenged. I'm just not sure if we have the connections and the evidence to succeed in forcing changes to be made."

Steven stopped again and looked around at his audience. Everyone was contemplating his words and trying to allow the enormity of his suggestion to sink in. Not wanting the conversation to end in stalemate Steven backtracked to his original plan and would give it some time for the larger picture to be accepted. "So, in the meantime." He continued. "Just start keeping notes and we'll just see where this whole thing takes us."

"Can we include things that have already happened?" Jed asked.

"Yes! For sure!" Steven agreed. "Just put down the date as close as you can remember—anything you can remember, just jot it down. And we need to get as many testimonies as possible so that the board can compare notes, so to speak. Make sure that everything correlates."

"So you would need more than just Jed's statements then?" David asked. He had been sitting quietly throughout most of this exchange since he didn't feel that he had any function in it but he was still willing to contribute when the thought struck him.

"Yes." Steven again admitted. "We would need two or three corresponding statements of the same acts before we could have any hope at all of this working. Even then, all it might accomplish is that the Warden gets a slap on the wrist and it may not help Heyes in the long run."

"Still, getting the Warden to back off of Heyes is something." Jed commented. "As long as he doesn't turn around and exact vengeance upon him later on. Warden Mitchell has left no doubt in my mind that he would be quite capable of doing just that."

"That is also a risk." Steven admitted.

Groans made their way around the table.

"I'm just suggesting this as an option." Steven reiterated. "It'll take time, it'll take co-ordination and it'll take co-operation—and it may not even work. But gentlemen, I am at a loss to suggest anything else."

This time silence made its way about the table. Finally Jed broke the stalemate.

"Well, I can certainly keep notes about what goes on there, and I have no doubts about Beth being willing to write down her experience." He offered, and then he sighed, contemplating the other options. "I know that Kenny and the Doc keep detailed records of everything that goes on in each of their jurisdictions, but I don't know if they would want to present that information at a hearing. It could be dangerous for them."

"Yes." Steven agreed. "This is why I hesitated to suggest it. If we can develop a strong enough case I could present them with a court order, forcing them to make their records available, but I would rather they did it willingly."

Jed contemplated this new dilemma. Both Kenny and Morin were trying to be supportive of Heyes within the prison system, but to ask them to go against their employer and their fellow guards might just be asking too much.

"I don't know." Jed admitted. "They could get into real trouble going against the doctrine and Officer Carson in particular can get pretty nasty, especially if he feels threatened. The only friends Heyes has in that place could at the very least end up loosing their jobs and at the worst be found lying dead in an alley somewhere."

Steven nodded but silence reigned again around the supper table. They could hear the ladies in the other room laughing about something and the jovial sound seemed out of place in the current mood of the gentlemen's discussion.

"I don't know." Jed finally commented again. "I want to help Heyes—of course I do! But I hate to put Kenny at risk like that, and I know darn well that Heyes wouldn't approve of it if it meant risking the lives of others. It's a lot to ask."

"Yes it is." Steven agreed quietly. "But it's all we have."

"Jed, couldn't you just ask Officer Reece?" Jesse suggested. "No pressure, just present the option to him and then let him decide."

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed agreed, though he didn't sound very enthused. "I could mention this in my next letter to Heyes, and I know Kenny reads all of Heyes' mail before passing in on to him, so he'd get an idea that way of what we're thinking about. Then, I suppose the next time I get out there he'll have had some time to think about it. I guess I could do that."

Everybody nodded; that sounded like a good plan of action.

"Well!" Jesse declared. "It's Christmas night. Steven is newly engaged, David is an expectant father and it turns out to be my youngest daughter rather than my oldest who has become an undercover detective! Then on top of that it looks like we're all planning to tackle the very foundations of the entire federal penal system to boot! Sounds like we're in for a very interesting year!"

"Here! Here!" David agreed and everyone raised their glasses.

"…_.so that's where things stand now Heyes. I know it doesn't sound too encouraging but we are working towards getting some things organized here. We are still planning on going in to see the next governor, whoever that ends up being but we are also going to get started in collecting that information if we end up having to take it to a hearing._

_Try to stay out of trouble, okay? I know it's almost like a contradiction to say that, since incidences of unwarranted abuse are what we need to challenge the powers that be, but I just don't like to see you getting hurt. That Carson could end up killing you if you're not careful—I'm sure he's done it before! Hopefully the information we already have, along with what Beth witnessed will be enough and all you need to do from now on is just lay low!_

_Do you think Sister Julia would be willing to come forward? I'm sure she has witnessed a lot of things there that would make a sailor's toes curl. Anything at this point would be helpful. _

_Whatever you do Heyes, don't antagonize or try to provoke a response from Carson or the Warden. Steven figures that that would become apparent under scrutiny and would therefore be useless in a legal hearing, so, like I said; stay out of trouble!_

_I'll get out to see ya' as soon as the weather permits. In the meantime, take care of yourself Heyes. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you in there._

_Jed._

Again, Heyes sat back with a heavy sigh and tried to absorb all the information that the Kid had squeezed into this letter. Oddly enough, at this point the main thing that was sticking in Heyes' mind was the way Kid had signed his name; 'Jed' rather than 'Kid'. It seemed to Heyes then that 'Jed' was indeed growing in other directions and moving away from their previous lives as outlaws and transients. He had a new life now, new friends and new beginnings. He was becoming his own man.

Heyes felt a slight twinge of jealousy and resentment that his partner had been given the opportunity to let go of the past and move on and part of him was afraid that Jed would simply leave him behind. Then he admonished himself for being selfish and childish. Of course Jed was going to move on in his own personal growth—that was a good thing! He needed to rediscover who he was and to learn how to function now in society as a legal, law-abiding citizen.

None of that meant that he was going to be leaving Heyes behind. On the contrary, Jed had made it clear on more than one occasion that he wasn't going anywhere until Heyes was free to go with him. But still, Heyes being the cynic that he was, couldn't help but wonder if that resolve would start to crumble if the years began to pile up and there was still no pardon in sight. How long could Jed remain true to the cause, and how long could Heyes rightfully expect him to?

By this time the light inside his cell was beginning to wan and though the lamps out in the aisle way were still lit it wasn't bright enough for him to continue reading. He sat for a long time just holding Jed's letter and staring into the dimness and thinking about the plans they were making. He felt guilty in a way at the risks his friends had taken, and were apparently willing to take again in order to secure his release and this new endeavor seemed to be even riskier that all the others.

People could get hurt—himself included! And personally, he was getting tired of getting hurt. The real lessons here were finally beginning to sink in; indeed, Heyes was not the alpha wolf anymore, he was not the one in charge and it had taken a long time for him to finally concede to that. He always had to look for a way around the rules, a way to come out on top. He just couldn't let go of being the one in control and all he'd gotten for his arrogance was battered and bruised—and broken.

Well, parts of him were broken but not his spirit; they hadn't broken that yet though Carson sure was trying. But no, he still had his heart and his soul intact, and his hope. They were limping often enough, but still intact. He was just getting more cautious. More willing to bend rather than break—like Lom had said. Yeah, Lom was a pretty smart man and Heyes reflected that he would have done a lot better in his life if he had just listened to him more often. But Heyes was a hard head, just had to do things his own way and now look where it had gotten him!

Heyes smiled a little sardonically. Now those people closest to him were willing to risk everything to get him out of a jam that his own arrogance had gotten him into. He was uncomfortable with that scenario, but just selfish enough and homesick enough to sit back, lay low, and hang tight—and let them try.

That night he dreamt about Abi and he woke up in the wee hours of the morning out of breath and sweating, frustrated and relieved all at the same time. Thank goodness it was still a few hours before morning roll call so he didn't have to worry about facing that particular dilemma again. He shifted and re-adjusted himself to try and get comfortable and then he smiled. At least this proved one thing for sure; he was still quite capable of 'performing' if and when the next time the need arose.

Having finally resolved that dilemma he closed his eyes and taking a deep cleansing breath he relaxed and listened to his pounding heart slowly drop back down to its normal rhythm. There was something comforting about the fact that it wasn't yet time to get up and he settle himself back into a peaceful sleep.

The next day Heyes was back to work doing light duty in the laundry room. His broken rib and the two fingers were still all taped up but he was beginning to feel more mobile and not quite so sore so he knew he would be able to start responding to the rest of his letters soon. On the other hand, he was only allowed to post one letter per week and this week, of course, it had been Bridget's, so there was no rush to get started on the next one.

He was already looking forward to reading the remaining letters that were still waiting for him, even though he knew they would just be reiterating what had already been said. Still, it's often fun to get a number of different points of view. He also wondered how long it would take for the parcel of gifts to get to him and he hoped that there would be some more of Belle's baking in there somewhere. Even if it was a bit stale, it would still be a treat!

And what was Kenny thinking? Heyes knew he would have read the letters—he had to, it was part of his job making sure that nothing covert was going on in the correspondences. So he'd know what Heyes' friends had in mind. Would he approve and stay quiet about it, or would be give his boss the heads up? Would he agree to help or would he turn a blind eye?

Kenny was there that day, Heyes had seen him down on the work floor but the guard had given no indication that he wanted to talk. Indeed it seemed to Heyes that the man was actually trying to avoid him or was that just his imagination? Heyes sighed as he folded the sheets; maybe he should just stay quiet and let Kid, or should he say 'Jed' handle things from his end? That would probably be the best, but Heyes still had trouble relinquishing control—he still felt the need to be in charge. Old habits die hard.

In any case the day came to a close without Heyes catching the guard's eye and he returned to his cell after supper with his evening coffee to settle in to reading his remaining letters. He even had a new word to decipher; 'verisimilitude' and he had actually laughed out loud and almost spilt his coffee when he read the definition. Jeez—he and Kid had been playing at that very thing for five years and didn't even know there was a special word for it! Kid will get a kick out of this one.

Heyes settled into his usual position on his cot and got himself comfortable. He couldn't believe how much difference it made having nice warm underclothing to wear and though his fingers still got a bit chilly, he was on the most part somewhat more content with his lot this winter as compared to last year. He smiled as he pulled out Beth's letter and began to read.

_Dear Joshua;_

_I hope you are feeling better by this time and that you haven't gotten yourself into any more trouble! _

_As you predicted I was certainly 'in for it' when I got home after my undercover trip to the prison. Everybody was mad at me but it was worth it as far as I was concerned and now even Steven thinks it was a good idea and that what I witnessed there could be to our advantage. So there you go! I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my presence but in the long run it may turn out to be worth it!_

_Now, Christmas Day—OH BROTHER! Or maybe I should say; oh sister! Bridget just took over the whole gathering with her 'wonderful' news'! I just felt like the last horse to get away from the start in a race! Oh, but then Thaddeus pointed out to me that I shouldn't think of life and marriage as a 'race', but still I really do feel like I have been left behind here._

_Of course Momma took me aside and gave me a bit of a talking to. Going on about how I should be happy for my sister and share in her joy rather than be resentful of it, and of course Momma is right! So once again I was being selfish and thoughtless and I sort of knew it anyways, but having Momma point it out in her quiet way just made it all the more apparent. So I did change my attitude and we ended up having a pretty nice Christmas._

_I suppose I do miss my sister quite a bit with her living in Denver now. We used to be such buddies but now she's moving on and is beginning a whole new life for herself and I guess I'm just jealous. I think I'm also afraid that she's going to forget about me, that her new job and new husband are going to take my place and she won't have time for her younger sister anymore. I guess we all have to grow up sometime, but I do miss her._

_On to other things now; I'm pleased to say that Karma is doing very well! I am so looking forward to early spring when her foal will finally arrive and hopefully all will go well with that. She is looking quite heavy naturally, though I suspect that some of that is her thick winter coat—all the horses look fat in the winter time. I wish you could see her though Joshua, she is such a pretty mare and I know she misses you. I do my best to fill in for you and I think she does like me as she often nickers when she sees me out in the yard, but you are still her 'special person' and she awaits your homecoming just as much as we all do._

_The three dogs are doing fine, though Rufus is starting to show signs of aging. He is having a harder time getting up the steps and is looking rather stiff and sore when he walks across the yard. I'm hoping it's just the cold weather getting to him, but he does tend to spend most of his time sleeping in the hay inside the barn. Pebbles and Peanut like to snuggle up to him for warmth now that Sam is no longer here to let them into the bunkhouse! But they're doing fine and everyone is staying quite healthy this year._

_I guess that is all for now and hopefully I will see you again once the weather improves. Please look after yourself Joshua; we all miss you and love you very much and I just don't know what we'd do if anything were to happen to you in there!_

_Well, bye for now,_

_Beth._

Again Heyes was left contemplating the letter and thought how odd it was that Beth was feeling much the same way about her sister moving on as he had about Jed moving on. He supposed then that feelings of being left behind, or abandoned must be quite universal with young and old alike and that he shouldn't be so hard on himself for having those feelings. Everybody has the right to feel insecure once in awhile.

The news about Karma was both bitter and sweet. As with so many things that were happening at home, he wanted to hear about them but at the same time if often made him feel as though life were passing him by. He missed Karma too—a lot! He missed their wild gallops and her temper tantrums. He missed her nicker in the mornings and her demand for food or attention. He missed their arguments and her angry stamp of a foot when she wasn't getting her way.

Then he smiled; Hmmmm. Suddenly he was reminded of another lady in his life that had a very similar temperament. Funny; he'd never thought about how the personalities of both ladies were almost parallel and how much he was drawn to a fiery female! Then he chuckled out loud when he thought of what Abi would have to say about him comparing her to his horse! That wouldn't be good—best to keep that observation to himself.

He came back from his musings to realize that he was still holding on to Beth's letter, so he put that one down on the 'already read' pile and turned to the last sheet of paper awaiting his attention. Just the very act of picking up Belle's letter and unfolding it was enough to suddenly make him feel safe and secure. She had such a very special place in his heart that the mere act of 'coming home' would not have the same emotional impact upon him if she were not there. She was everything he missed about 'family'.

_Dear Joshua;_

_I'm sure the ladies have already filled you in on the big news of the day so I will not bore you with repeating it. On the other hand, I must say I got quite a chuckle out of Jesse giving poor Steven a very difficult time of it. Jesse can have such an evil sense of humour at times and he is just having way too much fun at Steven's expense!..._

"Oh good!" Steven stated rather nervously. "I was hoping to catch you both alone for a moment."

Jesse and Belle exchanged very quick glances. They both had a good idea of what was coming.

"That's kind of a contradiction." Jesse observed. "How can either of us be alone if we're both here? Really Steven, as a lawyer you need to be aware of inconsistencies in your speech like that."

"Oh, Ummm yes. Sorry." Steven was already fumbling. "It's just that I have something rather important I need to speak with you about, Mr. Jordan. OH! And Mrs. Jordan too of course, both of you."

Two pairs of eyebrows went up at the sudden change over to their formal name; 'Jesse' and 'Belle' had long ago become the norm. Yes, this was definitely it.

"Really?" Jesse commented. "About Hannibal's case? That is a shame about Governor Baxter resigning his office so soon. Now your appointment with him has been postponed or probably it would be more accurate to say that it has been cancelled altogether. It is so frustrating, all this political red tape and I know its driving Jed crazy. It just seems to take forever to get anything done and nobody wants to listen to what anybody has to say so I can certainly understand why…."

"No, no Mr. Jordan." Steven finally interrupted him. "That's not it."

"Oh?" Jesse feigned amazement. "What else could be so important on this Christmas Day?"

"Well, Ummm, Sir, I would like…oh and Ma'am, you as well, yes. I would like to ask permission for your daughter's hand in marriage."

"Oh yes?" Jesse asked. "Which one?"

"Which one?!"

"Well yes, Mr. Granger." Jesse continued. "I have two daughters. I would hate to misinterpret your intentions—or are you saying that either one would do?"

Belle was trying very hard to keep a straight face throughout this exchange. This was cruel but fun all at the same time.

"NO!" Steven wasn't saying that at all! "No, no. I mean, Beth is a very lovely young woman and I'm sure that she will make a fine partner for any young man who is fortunate enough to catch her eye! She really is very nice…"

"Now you're sounding confused, Mr. Granger." Jesse pointed out. "It would appear to me that Beth is the one that you are interested…"

"No, no!" Steven interrupted him again. "No, it's Bridget….." Then he stopped and sighed, his shoulders slumping. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You're just pulling my leg aren't you?"

Jesse smiled. Belle finally broke down and laughed, but then she came forward and gave the beguiled young man a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"You really must forgive Jesse." She said and then sent her husband a nasty look. "He really gets too much pleasure out of teasing the young men who gather around! I'm surprised he doesn't scare off all the suitors!"

Jesse came forward then and extended his hand for shaking. Steven visibly relaxed and smiled too.

"I'm afraid my wife is right." Jesse owned up. "But a man must take some fun where he can find it. Of course you have our blessings and I have no doubt that you will make a fine husband for Bridget."

Steven was grinning now and Belle gave him another hug.

"I have no doubt about that myself." She agreed. "Welcome to the family Steven and what a wonderful Christmas present this has been!"…..

_Then Steven of course went to inform what I'm sure was a very anxious Bridget that we had given our permission for their union and within moments her excited and very un-lady like exclamations were vibrating throughout the household!_

_Beth felt a little put out about the whole affair, which I could understand from her youthful point of view, but still was unacceptable under the circumstances. Fortunately it only took a few words from me to help her see what she already knew herself and she brightened up then and was able to join in on the celebrations. _

_We had a lovely Christmas with most of the family all around us. I could not help but think of what an improvement it was over last year when Jed was going through such a difficult time. The girls had both been so disappointed when he didn't show up for the holiday and then there was all that drama that came after that! Thank goodness things are so much improved this year._

_The only thing now that I could wish for, for next year is that you will also be able to join us around the dinner table. You were terribly missed Joshua and I know that Thaddeus felt your absence more than any of us. He did enjoy himself on the most part, but occasionally when he thought that no one was looking, his expression would become very melancholy and it didn't take a genius to know that he was thinking about you._

_I know that he has written you a letter as well and that he has told you of the plans that Steven brought to the table. It all sounds so covert that I can't help but feel a chill when I think of the risks that these plans might put you in. You are so very much at the mercy of the officials there and some of them have already proven to be quite brutal._

_My goodness! I thought that Sheriff Morrison was bad, but the stories I've heard from Thaddeus over the past year, and now from my own daughters as well, makes me ashamed to think that we have men like that holding positions of such authority. Thankfully you seem to have a friend as such in this Officer Reece and I hope that Thaddeus and Beth have not over estimated his worth and support of you. Obviously you need friends in there and I pray every night that the ones you do have will help to keep you safe._

_Goodbye for now Joshua. Know that you are always in my heart and in my thoughts. God be with you._

_Belle._

Well, that was it then, news and thoughts from all sides. He settled back with an arm behind his head and contemplated his letters, and what responses he was going to send back. He realized then, of course, that he could include a letter to Clem in with the one going to Bridget so two of them could be taken care of in one shot. Then Belle, Beth and Jed could all go in the same envelope as well. Yes, that's more like it. Then it wouldn't take so long to respond to everyone so long as his healing fingers didn't lay in too much of a protest.

He would get started on that tomorrow; he was too tired now to give them justice. Then the buzzer sounded and Heyes sighed in irritation. For one thing he was nice and warm and comfortable right where he was and having to get up and stand at the door to his cell just for some stupid roll call when they already knew he was here! Well, it was just—irritating!

Oh well. Up he got, over to the cell door, stand there, and wait. Davis walked by doing the count, checking off names—everyone present and accounted for, like why wouldn't they be? Then step back inside the cell, then slide, bang! As all the doors closed them in for the night—then a loud mechanical clang! As the locks slid into place, locking them in for the night.

Another sigh and then back to his cot to settle in and get comfortable. Maybe he would light a candle and read for awhile. He was still so full of all the news from home that he really didn't think he would be able to settle into sleep any time soon. Yeah, he'd read for awhile and then listen to some music in his mind and hopefully be able to convince it to shut down and drift into the night.

Over the next couple of evenings Heyes managed to get letters written back to just about everyone who had sent him a note. It really wasn't too time consuming since he really didn't have very much to report—nothing changed at the prison, life was just the same old, same old. He mainly focused on assuring everyone that he was doing okay and that he was making himself eat more, even if he wasn't hungry and he was certainly keeping warm. He also included in Jed's letter the new word for the week. He smiled almost wickedly, wishing he could see the Kid's expression when he learned the definition!

That done, he took a fresh sheet of paper from his diminishing pile and began to contemplate his next reply. This was a letter he had not originally intended to write, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed the proper thing to do. He just wasn't sure how to do it. Well, just get started writing, he decided, and see where it goes.

_To the children at the Sisters of Charity Orphanage;_

_Thank you very much for thinking of me at Christmas time. It was a very pleasant surprise to receive your cookies and then all those kind letters as well. I greatly enjoyed all of it and it made this Christmas very special._

_In answer to some of your questions: Yes, I do get to go outside, although these days it's a little too cold for outdoor activities so I keep busy working indoors. I work in the laundry room, and the infirmary and I also work on the main floor making brooms and candles and cigars._

_Kid Curry does come to visit me once a month but I don't think he would want to come and live here as it really is not that much fun. I also have other friends who come to visit when they can and send letters when they can't so I'm not really alone. Friends are important and I'm glad to hear that you value your friendships there at the orphanage._

_Sister Julia is also a very good friend of mine and I'm pleased to hear that you value her kindness to you. You must also continue to study hard in school and realize how important it is to have an education and whatever you do, don't follow in my footsteps!_

_Riding the outlaw trail may sound exciting and adventurous, but it's not! I can't count how many times me and the Kid had to sleep on the cold ground and be wet and miserable because we didn't have money for a room, or we were on the run from some posse that just wouldn't let up! And now I've ended up here in prison for goodness knows how long, and that's no fun either._

_You are far better off studying hard and growing up to be fine, law abiding citizens. Sister Julia has also assured me that you are all very good children and are well on your way to being successful adults._

_I realize that we all share the same horrendous tragedy and that was to loose our parents at such a young age. I know that many of you must feel angry and resentful that life has handed you such a difficult path to tread. We cannot choose many of the things that happen in our lives, but we can choose how we deal with them and holding on to anger is not a good thing to do. It won't help you in your lives and it certainly won't bring your parents back. Nor would your parents want you to be angry and resentful; they would want you to grow up to be happy and productive adults and to have a good life._

_When the Kid and I were orphaned, if was a different time than it is now. The Civil War was raging and the whole country was in turmoil. Nobody had time for orphans and the institution that did take us in was a hard and cruel place for children to have to grow up in. Both Jed Curry and I grew up angry and that anger clouded our judgment and caused us to make choices that were dangerous and self-defeating. Not that I am justifying the decisions that we made; Kid and I were wrong in what we did and we've both had to pay a heavy price for it. I guess what I am trying to say here is that you have a safe and caring home with people who treat you with kindness and respect. They are giving you every opportunity to excel and I just want to emphasize how important it is that you all take advantage of that._

_Well, enough lecturing, I certainly don't want to come across as just another boring adult! Thank you again for the gifts and the letters and I hope you all had a very nice Christmas. Take care, respect one another, study hard and above all else, have fun!_

_Hannibal Heyes._

Heyes sat back and re-read the letter and decided that it was good to go—hardly a literary masterpiece, but writing to a group of children whom you don't know isn't exactly easy. Hopefully they would appreciate the note and maybe, he thought, it would actually be kinda nice if some of them decided to write to him again. So he folded the letter and put it aside, he would give to Sister Julia the next time he saw her so she could then pass it along to the children.

Then Heyes picked out the letter from Abi and read it again. He was actually feeling nervous about writing to her. What to say? It had been so long since he'd had any contact with her; it almost felt like writing to a complete stranger. But then he smiled and realized that this was the same old Abi whom he had known and loved all those years ago; he could tell that just from the letters she had written to him. Same old Abi!

So, out came another sheet of paper and he cleared his mind of any concern of saying 'the wrong thing' and simply started to write.

_Dear Abigail;_

_First off, let me assure you that my anger at our parting has long since dissipated, and indeed once my anger had calmed I came to realize that you were absolutely right in your decision. Trying to start a family while living the outlaw life is a disaster waiting to happen. I have seen a number of men try it and it has always ended badly! So you were right Abi and thank goodness that you had the strength of character to realize it._

_I am doing better this winter and 'yes!' I am eating more now and staying healthy. It really was not my intentions to kill myself through starvation. As you pointed out; there are far faster and easier ways of doing that if that had been my design. Looking back on it now, I think it was all just stress at trying to find my footing here in this place and of course, facing the reality of actually being here! Not only was I not prepared for how cold it gets here in the winter, but Jed had shut me out and I didn't know why so I must admit that I was very depressed. I just couldn't eat._

_Of course later on I became more aware of what Jed had been going through and why he hadn't been in touch and so I had a better understanding of it all. Now of course he comes to see me every month when the weather allows him to do so. I know that he is doing everything he can to convince the powers that be to grant me a pardon, but (as you know) he keeps running into road blocks. He is finding this just as frustrating as I do, but he and our other friends still keep on trying so, as you say; I will do my part and keep hanging on here and doing my best to stay out of trouble. Right now visitors are few and far between simply because of the snow piling up outside! So I do get lonely. Still, I do have friends here (oddly enough) and I'm getting by._

_But rest assured Abi; even though it's hard to call what they serve here 'food', I am eating better and actually forcing myself to eat more than I want. I don't need to get sick again. Especially since one young man who I was looking after got pneumonia and died right there with me holding his hand. That was a shock! I'm the great Hannibal Heyes! I was looking after him so he wasn't supposed to die on me! Yeah right. Have I always been such an arrogant ass Abi?_

_I know that you are doing all you can at your end of things to try to help in procuring my release. I have no doubt that you have been faithful in that endeavor but I am also very much aware of your other commitments and that those do of course hinder what you are able to do. Your other responsibilities come first and foremost! You hold our future in your hands Abi! There is nothing more important than that._

_Please know that I love you dearly and that far from causing me distress in writing to me, your letters bring me peace and pleasure, and hope for better things to come. Please don't stop writing to me—your letters are a life-line!_

_I have been faithful in sending out our nightly thoughts and support to one another. It has become so much a part of my routine now that you come to me unbidden around the same time every evening and it always brings me a smile to know that you are thinking of me as well. I do miss you so much and I hope sincerely that once I have moved on from this place and from my previous life that you will be agreeable to seeing me again. But I leave that up to you and again, I will accept whatever you decide._

_Love you always Abi;_

_H. Heyes_

There, done! Now he would have time too, to re-write anything that he might feel in hind-sight is perhaps inappropriate, some time to let things settle. He figured he would send Bridget's letter first since he felt it was important for her to hear his view on things as soon as possible. So, of course, Clem's letter would go along with that one. Then Abi's would go next because that one would take the longest to arrive. Then he would send the one to the ranch last. He was hopeful that the parcel of gifts would arrive before then (It should, for goodness sakes!) and then he could also include a 'thank you'.

He settled back into his pillow and reached under his cot to pick up his latest book. He had finished 'A Christmas Carol' and was now getting started on 'Oliver Twist' which was of course as story to which he could easily relate. He thought fleetingly that once he finished it, he would suggest that Kid read it as well. Then he snorted softly, yeah, like that was ever going to happen!

Next day over in the infirmary Heyes did a quick scan of the ward and was disappointed at only seeing Dr. Morin sitting over by his desk and absolutely no patients to tend to at all.

"Is Sister Julia going to be coming in any time soon?" Heyes asked hopefully.

"Not unless we get a rush of sniffles and stubbed toes." Morin mumbled. "Why?"

"I wrote this letter for her to take back to the orphanage with her." Heyes explained. "So I guess I was kinda hoping she would be in today."

"Oh. Well, leave it with me and the next time she comes in I'll be sure she gets it." Then Doc looked up and sent a suspicious look over to his trustee. "What do ya' mean you wrote a letter? What the hell you been doin' Heyes?!"

Heyes was taken aback. "What?"

"I told you to give that hand a rest—give those fingers a chance to heal!" Doc reminded him. "It's bad enough that Carson has you back working again, but you gotta start writing a letter in your spare time?!"

Heyes looked sheepish. "Well, they were important, Doc."

"THEY!? How many did you write?!"

"Well, uummm, let's see—there was one to Bridget and then Jed and to Belle and….."

"OH FXXX! Get over here!"

"What? Why?" Heyes suddenly became suspicious, and actually took a step backwards thinking that he was going to get punished for misbehaving. It did not occur to him for a moment that he could easily over-power the doctor and he was feeling a little nervous about the fact that he was in trouble.

Morin saw the anxiety level rise up in the inmate and consciously calmed himself down. Goodness knows Heyes had been brutalized enough at the hands of prison employees and now his automatic response to any show of disapproval could easily create a defensive stance in the man.

"No, Heyes c'mon.'" Morin reassured him. "I just wanna take a look at those fingers and make sure they're still healing properly."

"Oh. Alright." Heyes relaxed and approached the Doc.

They both sat down at the table and Morin carefully untaped the fingers and then very carefully began his own version of the poke and prod that Jed had become so familiar with from David. Heyes flinched a number of times but held his ground and soon Morin had finished with his exam and began to re-tape the fingers.

"Yeah okay." He said. "They're a bit more swollen than I would like to see at this point but they're doing okay. But still—if you ever wanna crack open a safe again you better lay off the letter writing for now. Alright?!"

Heyes smiled. "Yeah Doc, alright."

"Good! Now get to work."

When Saturday finally rolled around again Heyes found himself confronted with the long awaited Christmas parcel sitting on his cot. It was two weeks late, but that didn't matter one bit—it was here and Heyes eagerly settled in to opening the numerous re-wrapped items. One thing about Kenny, even though he had to unwrap any gifts that were sent, he always put some effort into restoring them to their original state so that the inmate who would ultimately receive them could have the pleasure of opening the gifts himself. Little things like that made a big difference in a convict's life.

Heyes sat down and opened up the main box. He gazed in at the numerous items still wrapped in their brown paper and wondered who's to open first. He decided that he wasn't going to decide so he just grabbed one. It was from Bridget. He unwrapped the brown paper and discovered three sturdy candles and a handy tin candle holder. Candles he could use—that was good! Next one was from Belle. Sure enough it was more baked goods—a little broken up but still quite edible. She had enclosed a brief note;

_I know I already sent you your Christmas gifts with Thaddeus, but since everyone else was contributing to this box, I thought I would add in a little something again myself. I hear through the grapevine that you appreciated the cookies before so I've sent you some more. I hope they survive the journey intact! Belle__. P.s. Jesse sends his regards—you know how men can be about writing letters!_

Heyes smiled and took a nibble. They may not be intact, but they still tasted good!

The next one he grabbed was from David and Trisha. This surprised him as he hadn't really expected anything from them. He opened it up to find another pair of warm socks and a scarf. And another quick note;

_Hannibal; Trisha seems to be suffering from the 'nesting syndrome' and she has been knitting up a storm since autumn! Thank you for giving her one more person upon whom she can lavish the end results. Stay warm and well fed, and keep in touch. David._

Okay. Heyes agreed. If Trish's nesting syndrome resulted in him getting some of the finished results, well he had no difficulty with that! Onwards!

The next one was from Beth—writing paper and two pencils. Again, something he could use and to the point as well; if they wanted him to keep writing to them then he would need a stash of paper—more than what the prison supplied! This stash would do nicely.

Another reach into the box and a hold on another parcel. This one was heavy, probably a book, it felt like a book and indeed it was—from Clementine. It was a copy of short stories and poems by Edgar Allen Poe along with another note, short and to the point;

_Heyes; I don't knit! Clem._

Heyes smiled again. This was all making him feel so good. It was a funny thing actually, considering where he was, and maybe it was simply in comparison to last Christmas. But he had to admit that this was one of the nicest Christmas's he'd had in a long time. His friends were all around him, perhaps not in person but certainly in spirit and he just didn't feel quite so alone anymore.

He made one more reach into the box and fittingly enough, the last gift he pulled out was from Kid. It was a small box that fit comfortably into Heyes' hand and it was wrapped, like the other gifts, in plan brown paper and had printed across it, simply; From Jed.

Heyes smiled again, quietly. The box felt so familiar to him, almost comforting to the point where he was afraid to open it in case the actual item itself would destroy that feeling of camaraderie that had settled down upon him. Finally he did the inevitable and unwrapped the paper. His smile broadened. Trust the Kid to know exactly what he needed. It was a deck of cards.

A disturbing thought flashed across his mind and he held the deck close to his chest and sent a furtive glance out into the isle. Maybe he wasn't allowed to have a deck of cards in here, maybe the guards would take them away from him. But then he relaxed a bit. Kenny had already inspected the gifts. If Heyes wasn't allowed to have any of these items they would never had made it to his cell.

His smile returned. Then, despite his minor handicap he opened up the box and slid the deck out into the palm of his right hand. His heart rate picked up just a little and he felt an excitement come into his chest. He placed the deck onto his little table and spread the cards out with his left hand and then deftly brought them all back into a deck again. He picked up one card and weaved it in and out through the fingers of his left hand, then slid it across the back of his hand and into his palm and then through his fingers again. His smile had turned into a dimpled grin.

He shuffled them as best he could with his two fingers still taped up and then dealt out twenty-five cards. He sighed and considered his options, then went about making the five pat hands that had gotten him in and out of so many scrapes throughout the years that it felt like shaking hands with an old friend.

Heyes spent the rest of the afternoon playing with his new toy and the only time his smile left his face was when he was so focused in concentrating on the solitary game that his brow would crease for a moment and the smile would disappear. But only for an instant, and then it would be back again and he would shuffle the cards and deal them out and start all over.

Yes. It had been a good Christmas. And now they were in to a new year. It was January, 1887 and near the end of the following month Heyes would be thirty-six years old.

There had been a lot of new beginnings this Christmas—some disappointments but still, a lot of new hope. Heyes knew he was lucky—so very lucky with the friends and family that he had and as Abi had pointed out; they were all working towards that one goal and Heyes had a responsibility to them. He had to stay safe, stay healthy and stay alive! He had to surrender control of his life and trust to others to pick up the reins and steer the way.

Could he do it? He wondered. Could he relinquish control? Step down and stop trying to always be the man in charge? If he wanted to stay alive in this place he would have to do just that. Even to his hard head and tenacious temperament he had finally figured it out; he either complied with the doctrine or end up beaten and broken and what would be the good of a release from this place then?

Oh Abi was right—so right! Again! Time for a change in attitude. It was a new year and a new beginning and Hannibal Heyes had just made a gigantic leap of faith.

To Be Continued.

Author's note; The letter from Abi was graciously contributed by SilverKelpie.


	23. Chapter 23

A SPECIAL DAY

"So, what do you think?" Jesse asked his wife.

Belle yawned and snuggled in deeper beside her husband.

"About what?" She asked.

"About Beth going back to the prison with Jed." Jesse informed her. "I know she wants to go but I'm not so sure that Jed wants to take her." He hesitated, staring into the darkness and then he smiled. "I'm not so sure I want Jed to take her."

"Yes." Belle agreed. "It would be asking quite a bit of Thaddeus I think. Not just the responsibility of having a young lady with him, but the time he has with Joshua is precious to him and he might resent having Beth along."

"Hmmm." Came the comment back to her. "I hadn't even thought of that aspect of it. I suppose that is a point."

"What were you thinking?"

"Exactly the same thing all father's think!" Jesse adamantly confessed. "I know they're fond of each other and I know how emotions and desires can take over—especially if they're off on their own like that! I've nothing against Jed, he's shown himself to be a fine young man, but still; he's a young man and 'things' can happen!"

"Yes they can." Belle agreed. "I seem to recall another fine young man whisking a rather willing young lady off to the barn for some time alone! I sometimes wonder what would have happened if my father had walked in on us!"

Jesse laughed. "Oh my goodness! We probably wouldn't have any children!" Then he tried to become serious again. "And that's exactly what I'm talking about! I'd hate to have to shoot Jed."

"Yes dear, I know." Belle teased him just a bit but then she too became serious. "Beth can be quite flirtatious sometimes." She quietly conceded. "It might just be putting too much temptation into a young man's path and that really wouldn't be fair to Thaddeus." Belle became quiet again while she considered the options. "What about your other suggestion? That Beth goes along with Steven and Bridget the next time that's planned. I'm sure Miss Hale would be present as well so Thaddeus and Beth wouldn't have much time to be alone together."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that." Jesse admitted. "My main concern is that it would be quite a party converging on the prison all at once and the warden may not appreciate it."

"Well then perhaps Miss Hale would be willing to go along with them as Beth's chaperone just for that one trip." Belle suggested. "Three people have been in before to visit with Joshua so that shouldn't be a problem."

"Yes, but Miss Hale is supposed to be Bridget's chaperone!" Jesse pointed out. "She can't very well be two places at once."

"I know." Belle admitted. "But Steven and Bridget are betrothed now and really, I can't help but feel that their celibacy is no longer under our control. If they wanted to they could find time alone together." Then she smiled and gave her husband's arm a gentle squeeze. "We did."

"Is this conversation supposed to be making me feel better?" Jesse asked. "You keep on reminding me of 'us' and I am going to lock both our daughters up until they reach thirty-five!"

Belle laughed. "We turned out alright."

"Yes we did." Jesse agreed and hugged his wife to him even closer. "It's just that having two headstrong daughters is trying on a man's nerves."

"Well, let's sleep on it dear." Belle suggested. "We have agreed that Thaddeus and Beth cannot go to the prison without a chaperone, and we can sort the rest of the details out as the time comes closer. Goodness knows nobody is going anywhere in this weather! It's probably a good thing that the appointment with the governor was postponed because I doubt that Thaddeus would have been able to get to it anyways."

"True."

Two bedrooms over Beth was also lying awake and worrying about life in general this winter. First off Joshua was very much on her mind and she couldn't help but be concerned about his safety in that awful place. She was thankful that he had friends there and Sister Julia had assured her that she would let her young friend know if anything else happened. Not that Beth could do anything about it anyways other than keep notes, but just knowing that she had contacts there at the prison made her feel a little less useless.

Then, the other thing occupying her thoughts was, of course, Thaddeus. They had been getting along very well since summer and having once agreed to stay 'just friends' for now they had both relaxed and had actually started to enjoy one another's company.

She knew Thaddeus had been angry with her for sneaking off to the prison but he seemed to get over that fairly quickly. Especially when Steven had pointed out that it might actually help their case. And anything that might help Joshua's case was very quickly accepted by his partner as a good thing.

They were all frustrated by the inactivity that winter had enforced upon them and she knew that as soon as the weather allowed it, then Thaddeus would be on the train back to Wyoming to make sure his cousin was okay. Beth hoped that she would be able to go with him, but had her doubts that her parents would allow it, plus the fact that Thaddeus apparently wasn't comfortable with her going with him either, well…it just didn't seem likely to happen.

It was all just so silly! Thaddeus wouldn't do anything! He was always such a gentleman. Why didn't her parents trust him? She sighed in frustration. It seemed the only way they might even consider her going back to the prison would be if she went with a whole group of other people! Really…having her sister and future brother-in-law along for the ride would be just so-crowded! Oh well, better than not going at all.

Then she thought back with a mixture of pleasure and irritation to the New Year's Eve party that was held in town a few weeks back.

Steven and Bridget had not attended as they, along with Clementine had returned to Denver right after Christmas. But at least David and Trish had joined in on the festivities despite Trish's obvious disadvantage. It was agreed that Jed and Beth would spend the night at their place after the fireworks show at midnight so that they would not be trying to drive the surrey home in the dark—or have to pay for two rooms at the hotel.

The party had been held in the community hall and it had been well-lit and well attended by most of the young people who called Brookswood their home. Sheriff Jacobs had popped his head in a couple of times during the evening, but since everything seemed to be staying within reason, he was not too concerned about problems starting. All in the all the young adults of the town were pretty good citizens. There were also some older folk attending in order to keep an eye on things, and young Joe Morin would do his part of keep his peers in line. He was there to enjoy the festivities with his particular lady of interest, but he was also making sure nobody got too rowdy.

Sam and Maribelle were also in attendance and would spend the night at the hotel and make it a real holiday for themselves. It would probably be the last holiday for a while since the announcement had been made that Maribelle was already in the family way and would most likely be spending next New Year's Eve at home!

The hall was busy and noisy, crowded with everyone in a festive spirit and wanting to dance the night away until the fireworks show at midnight. Therefore it was not until Jed was returning to the table where Beth was awaiting their fruit punch that he became aware that Miss Isabelle Baird was also in attendance. He shouldn't have been surprised at her presence since she was of course part of this group of young adults, but he still was taken aback when she 'inadvertently' bumped into him and nearly caused him to spill the drinks.

"Oh, ah Miss Baird—I mean Isabelle." Jed smiled at her. "I always seem to be bumping into you. My apologies."

"Not at all Jed." She assured him with a sweet smile. "How nice to see you here. We haven't had much chance to visit since last summer. You always seem to be off somewhere!"

"Yes ma'am." Jed agreed. "I have been busy. But it is nice to see you here tonight. Perhaps you would honour me with a dance later on."

Isabelle smiled coyly. "Why of course Jed. I'd be pleased to."

Jed smiled and nodding a polite acceptance, started to move off. Isabelle however, had other plans and she placed a hand on his arm and stopped him before he could even take a step. He looked back at her and then her eyes traveled upwards to the ceiling. Jed followed her gaze and his heart came to his throat. They were standing under the mistletoe! OH SXXX!

It just so happened that David was walking by them at that point, taking fruit drinks over for him and his wife.

"You walked right in to that one Jed." He whispered on his way by. "Or should I say, right under…"

"Ahhh…" Jed looked back down and met Isabelle's pleased and expectant gaze. He smiled, a little nervously. Oh dear. He could feel Beth's eyes upon him. Oh well. "Yes ma'am, I mean Isabelle. Happy New Year."

Fortunately he was holding a drink in both his hands so he didn't have to worry about what to do with them, so he leaned forward to give Miss Isabelle a friendly kiss on the cheek. Isabelle however had other ideas again and at the last instant she turned her cheek aside and Jed felt his lips settle onto hers in a rather warm and pleasing connection. Much to his surprise, her lips parted a little and he felt the tip of her tongue caress his mouth in what could only be called a sensuous encounter.

Jed pulled back from her and gazed down into the dark pools of her eyes; he was breathing just a little bit too fast for his comfort. She smiled up at him.

"Happy New Year Jed." She said softly. "Until our dance." And then she sashayed away across the floor to her table where she was sitting with her group of friends.

They were all smiles and giggles at watching her set the trap and successfully ensnare her quarry. She returned to her table and sat down with her friends again, with an air of satisfied superiority feeling quite confident that she had staked her claim and had won the night.

Jed returned to his table where David, Tricia and Beth were awaiting him, each wondering how he was going to handle this situation. Jed sat down beside a rather dejected looking Beth and putting the drinks onto the table he put an arm around his young friend's shoulders and hugged her to him.

"I'm not quite as obtuse as some people would have you think." He gently whispered to her. "I know exactly what she's doing, and Beth darlin'—I'm not interested."

At which point Beth smiled and she returned his hug and gave him her own kiss on the cheek. David laughed and raised his glass of punch.

"Well done Jed!" He said. "Happy New Year!"

Beth lay in her bed and smiled up at the ceiling. That had turned out to be a fun night after all, and though Isabelle did indeed get her one dance with Jed, he danced all the others with either Beth or with Tricia. Although dancing with Tricia at this time of her pregnancy does not really describe the awkward wallowing that her attempts on the floor came down to. She did her best, but after one dance with Jed and two with her husband she called it a night and was just as happy sitting at their table and watching the other's have fun.

Of course this more pleasant pass time was regularly punctuated by her numerous waddles to the outhouse though David would accompany her on those jaunts to make sure she didn't slip in the snow—and also because he was a doting husband and father-to-be! Poor Tricia was quite ready for the baby to put in an appearance as she was getting awfully tired of not being able to see her toes and the extra weight she was lugging around was extremely tiring!

The fireworks displayed had been loud and glorious and Tricia did very well staying up for it as by that time she was pretty much done in. But the walk back to the Gibson residence, with both David and Jed assisting the mother-to-be to keep her feet had been filled with laughter and jokes and a good time with good friends.

In the downstairs bedroom Jed also laid awake contemplating life as he knew it these days. As always, first and foremost Heyes was on his mind. No matter what else was going on his Jed's life or in his moods, there was always with him an underlying fear or dread. It didn't clutch at his heart or rise up to choke him or cause him to lose his appetite, but it was still there none the less. Just a dullness in the pit of his stomach and in the back of his mind. It was always there; What if something happened to Heyes before they could get him out?

What if he got sick again and he didn't pull through it? What if Carson ended up beating him to death? What if he spiraled down into another depression and stopped eating again….what if….what if….

Curry groaned and ran a hand over his eyes and through his hair. Jeez, I thought Heyes was supposed to be the worrier. He was the one who always had to think everything to death. He was the one who went over all the 'what if's'. Jed would always just go on instinct and say what he thought without worrying the idea into the ground. 'Yeah Heyes, that's a good plan.' Or 'Ah no, Heyes, you're just not thinkin'.' And he'd let his partner worry about the details.

But….what if…? Jed felt that familiar fear creep through him again; the one he always felt when he got too close to thinking about this. What if…and he was almost afraid to think it out loud. 'What if Heyes dies in there before we can get him out?' It would be unbearable especially knowing that Jed was in a position to be able to break him out without having to put all that much planning into it. It'd be easy in the summertime when the inmates were outside the prison doing work for the townspeople. Just gather some of the boys from the Hole and make a raid. It would be so easy.

And yet here he sat, not doing a darn thing to organize it because he knew that Heyes wouldn't approve. That Heyes wouldn't go for it. Because Heyes wouldn't want Curry to throw away his amnesty. So nothing was getting done and trying to do things the right way—the legal way, was taking forever! Yet here he sat, not doing anything. And what if Heyes died in there before they could get him out? Curry sighed again. He had a pretty good idea what he would do if that happened; He'd probably take his gun, turn it on himself and pull the trigger. 'Cause he didn't think he could live with that, knowing that Heyes had died in prison because Curry hadn't done what he knew he could do, to get him out.

Oh, this was getting too morbid. Jed forced his mind away from that vicious circle and put it onto more pleasant thoughts. New Years had been fun. He'd actually come close to forgetting about his worries for a time while at that gathering. Everyone had a great time, the food had been good and plentiful, the fruit punch, though a bit 'fruity' had been refreshing and the company could not have been better.

Jed smiled at that thought; jeez he must be getting old! He thought back to some of the raucous New Year's Eve parties he and Heyes had been to over the years—especially the ones up in Devil's Hole, or even better, in the nearby town that had no problem with welcoming the outlaws and their money to celebrate the night away in their establishments. Wine, women and song! Or more appropriate; Whiskey, whores and tinny piano music. But they sure had fun! Curry smirked, boy—not too long ago he wouldn't have hesitated to jump on a tasty invitation like the one Isabelle had given him that night. Curry shook his head in the dark. Young Miss Isabelle had no idea; she thought she was all worldly and seductive but compared to the women whom Jed had partaken of during his outlaw years, she was still innocent and pure. She had absolutely no idea.

Beth was innocent too, but at least she didn't pretend to be otherwise. She was sweet and caring and wanted to be with Jed because she liked him and not because of whom he used to be. Beth came to know him as Thaddeus—an impecunious saddle tramp who didn't even have enough money for a horse. And she didn't care, she just liked him.

Isabelle was simply after the reputation—Jed knew that. She didn't know Jed well enough to like him; she just wanted to be the one who seduced Kid Curry. Well, that wasn't gonna happen. Oh she was certainly pretty enough and as Jed had already admitted, there was a time not long ago when he would not have hesitated to partake of her treasures, but not anymore.

He was approaching his thirty-forth birthday and was finally beginning to grow up. He'd spent all of the New Year's Eve without having even one alcoholic drink and knew as well, that he would be going to bed alone. But because he had spent the evening in the company of friends and family, he hadn't missed the boozing or even thought about hitting the whore house and he'd had a really good time. His life had changed, and so had his priorities.

Then his thoughts went back to Heyes again—always back to Heyes again. But this time it was more about what they were planning on doing, not what they weren't planning on doing. Steven's prediction had been correct in that it was Thomas Moonlight who had been sworn in as the new territorial governor of Wyoming. Just what that would mean for their particular concerns remained to be seen.

Moonlight had very little sympathy for outlaws and trying to use the Civil War as an excuse for their chosen lifestyle wasn't going to get them very far. But they did have a new appointment set for the middle of April and Steven was working on a presentation that might convince the new governor that Hannibal Heyes had served enough time and was deserving of a pardon.

Just hang on Heyes, Jed thought quietly. Just hang on and lay low and stay outa trouble. Surely that wasn't asking too much, was it? Oh, but what if….? NO! Let's not go there again! Get some sleep—busy day coming up. Jed rolled over onto his side and snuggling deeper into his warm blankets he closed his eyes for real and tried to relax.

Upstairs in the third bedroom, Jay was sleeping like a baby.

January went out like a lion with heavy blizzards making any sort of travel dangerous and time consuming. Jed was working hard at the ranch in order to fill in for Sam who was often not able to make it to work if the road was really bad. It wouldn't take long after the snowfalls for the road into town to become passable again, but there would always be a day or two where nothing was moving. Then, of course if you did head in to town you did so quickly so as not to get caught unawares by yet another storm.

All the cold weather and hard work was getting Jed into pretty good shape, but it was also yet another reminder as to why he wasn't in any hurry to buy himself a ranch. Not that he could afford to at this point, but you never know what the future would bring.

The biggest problem to keeping livestock in the winter of course, was making sure they had enough water and feed. The range livestock were left to care for themselves and since they were a pretty hardy stock most of them came through the winters alright. There was always some loss due to the harsh conditions and predators but most of those animals had been born on the open range and were wise to the ways of surviving a winter.

The more pampered animals that had a warm barn to spend the nights in certainly had life a bit easier, but it was still a lot of work for the person tending to their needs. Usually that was Sam, but as stated, often times during the bad weather it was Jed. The hay that had been cut and baled and stored for the winter months was plentiful as it had been a good long growing season that year, but keeping the water troughs from freezing up was quite the chore—often needing an axe to break up the ice and then using bare hands to grab hold of the chunks and toss them out of the trough so the horses could drink.

Jed found that he could only do this for a few minutes at a time and then he would have to quickly dry his red and aching hands off and shove them under his armpits to warm them up again. And it's not like he would only have to do this once a day, usually it needed to be done at every feeding as it only took an hour or two for the troughs to become closed in again with a solid lid of ice.

Cleaning stalls wasn't too easy a job in the winter either as the manure would freeze and make the job twice as hard it was during the spring and summer. Of course, during the summer the horses didn't even have to come in at night as they would stay much cooler and more comfortable out on pasture 24/7. Made things a whole lot easier for everyone! But winter was a true test of endurance, especially for someone who wasn't too keen on ranch work anyways. But Jed knew he had things pretty good for now so he sure wasn't gonna start complaining!

February rolled in and things didn't seem all that much different from January. It was still cold, it was still white and nobody was going anywhere unless dire emergency required it. David was getting a little anxious as Tricia's due date was fast approaching and he didn't want them to get snowed in. Of course their neighbour Millie was over quite a bit to help Tricia with the daily chores and to lend moral support. Tricia's mother tried to get in from their ranch as often as she could, but again the road conditions kept her at home more than she'd like. Fortunately the Hamilton's were just a block away and on standby alert. John had done most of the doctorin' in town before David had arrived and his wife Nancy was an experienced midwife, so both of them would be in attendance for Tricia's delivery.

Jed wanted to write to Heyes for his birthday, but he also wanted to hold off on the letter until the baby had arrived. He wasn't sure if Heyes was really all that interested in the arrival of new infants, but David was a friend, so he would probably appreciate some kind of an announcement. Chances were that any letter written to Heyes now would be late arriving anyways, so another week or two wasn't going to make much difference.

As it turned out Tricia went in to labour in the middle of the afternoon of a clear and bright sunny day so Millie had no problem making her way over to the Hamilton's home and let them know that the time was imminent. David was a nervous wreck—excited and scared all at the same time and he was actually very much relieved when John and Nancy showed up and took control. Delivering other people's babies was one thing, but the prospect of having to deliver his own was proving to be more nerve-racking than he would have ever imagined.

So David spent the afternoon and evening sitting beside his wife and holding her hand and in-between contractions she would speak quiet reassurances to him to help keep him calm. By the time late evening came upon them, both parents-to-be were getting quite worn out and just wished that this new little person would hurry up and put in an appearance. By the time the wee hours of February 16th came upon them, David was beyond being nervous and was just plain tired. Tricia was holding her own and soon the contractions were coming close together and everyone got busy.

"How are you doing David?" John asked his friend who was looking a little pale.

"I'm okay." David answered as he wiped perspiration from his wife's brow.

"How are you doing Trish?" John asked the wife.

Trisha simply nodded in between deep breaths and squeezed her husband's hand even harder. David grimaced but held his ground.

Some hours earlier, word had gotten around the district that the new arrival was imminent and Jed had been good enough to hitch the little bay pacer, Monty up the surrey and take on the role of 'cab driver'. Belle quickly got herself ready and organized Beth to carry on with Jay and the handling of the household for a while—hardly a difficult task since Beth was already doing these things anyway, she was just disappointed that she couldn't come too! Belle pointed out to her that there were going to be more than enough mother hens in attendance as it was and that Beth could come in later to give her congratulations.

Another consideration that was in the back of Belle's mind was that; even though there had been no indication of problems, this was Tricia's first pregnancy and there was just no telling how it would go. Belle did not want Beth there to witness things if it went badly. Of course Beth had been in the other room when Jay had been born, but Belle had already had two children with no problems so chances were good that the third, even though Belle was older, would also go smoothly. This had made the tragic loss of Mrs. Robertson and her infant all the more shocking.

Even at that, bottom line; Beth was needed at home. So, Jed and Belle bundled themselves up in the surrey and they headed out at a quick pace over to the Baxter ranch to pick up Tricia's mother, Jean. Then that done, with the two ladies chatting excitedly in the back seat, Jed had turned the horse's nose towards town and they made quick work of the hard packed distance to the Gibson residence.

Jed dropped the ladies off and headed back out to the Double JJ, knowing that his attendance at this event was hardly necessary and that he probably would not be needed to take the ladies home again for some time. Once inside, Millie greeted them and while she and Belle settled in at the kitchen table, Jean went into the bedroom to add support to her daughter and to her son-in-law.

A couple of hours later Jean returned to the kitchen to join the other ladies as Tricia had noted that her mother, who wasn't well at the best of times, was looking fatigued and assuring her that all was well, sent her off to relax with a cup of coffee. Belle and Millie had made sure that the coffee was always on and were also keeping warm water at the ready for the numerous cloths that Nancy and David were using to help Tricia deal with the pain of contractions. All three of those ladies had been through enough child birthings to know how things were going and that there was just no rushing it. Babies would be born when they were good and ready to be born.

But when they heard Tricia yell out in pain as a particularly strong contraction hit her, those wise ladies smiled across the table at one another and knew that birth was imminent. Jean was tempted to return to her daughter's side, but decided that holding her hand was what David was there for—after all he was the one who had got her into this condition so he should have to at least suffer through the labour pains as well! Inside the bedroom, Nancy was in position to assist her husband and David was doing his best to be supportive of his wife and ignore the pain in his hand as the contractions caused Tricia's grip to become vice like in its intensity!

But David held true and caressed his wife and spoke encouragements to her even though she felt like punching him in the face and then another strong contraction and Tricia pushed with all her might and allowed a gasp of pain to escape her.

"Here we go." John told her. "I can see the baby's head now Tricia, just a few more good pushes and you'll be done."

Tricia didn't answer but sent him a look indicating who else she'd like to be pushing right then. Damn men! What do they know about this!? If David thinks he's ever going to touch me again he is sadly mistaken! OH MY GOD! Another contraction and another push and—OH! When is this baby going to get out of me!?

"Just one more push, Tricia."

"C'mon sweetheart." David coaxed her. "We're almost there."

WE!? Where did this 'we' come into it?! Then another contraction and Tricia gasped again and then suddenly—finally—the pain released and everybody was on the move. Nancy came forward with the swaddling blanket while her husband set about his business to tie off the umbilical cord and get the infant breathing. David still held onto his wife's hand, but was standing up to try and get a look at his new offspring.

John smiled over at him. "It's a boy, David!" He announced. "A strong and healthy boy. Congratulations to both of you."

David was grinning from ear to ear. Tricia was just relieved. But as soon as the infant was wrapped in a blanket and placed in the new mother's waiting arms her tired face lit up with pleasure. David was already touching his new son's head and laughed excitedly when the baby wrapped a tiny fist around his finger. Tricia instinctively put the baby to her breast, but he wasn't showing much interest in nursing just yet—still too much in shock over that violent passage from warm darkness to cool air, and life was just beginning!

Nancy returned to the kitchen to get more warm water and wash cloths, and to bring the good news.

"It's a boy!" She announced.

Belle and Millie were pleased as punch.

"Finally—a grandson!" Jean announced. "All my children seemed determined to keep having girls!"

"Is Tricia fine?" Belle asked. "Did everything go alright?"

"Yes." Nancy assured them. "Baby and mother are doing fine. Father's a bit scattered though." Then she smiled. "Just give us a few minutes to get them cleaned up and then you can come in to meet the new arrival."

Half an hour later everyone was in the bedroom and gathered around the new family. Both parents were smiling with pleasure through their exhaustion while the object of all the attention suckled for a few moments and then promptly fell asleep.

"He's a beautiful baby." Belle complimented them. "Congratulations, both of you. You've waited a long time for this."

Both parents nodded emphatically.

"I have boxes of baby boy things just waiting to come over and be of use again." Belle continued. "Jay outgrows everything so fast; it'll be nice to be able to pass them along."

"Well everyone!" John announced as he and his wife finished with the cleaning up. "The sun is rising and it looks like its going to be another real nice day. How about we all head over to the café for breakfast and leave this new family to get acquainted on their own."

Everyone nodded assent to this and began shuffling towards the bedroom door.

"You're all going?!" David was almost in a panic. "But what do we do?"

"By the look of things, I'd say you're all going to get some sleep." John predicted then smiled at David's paled complexion. "Don't worry David; he's not going to break. I'll come back in about an hour to see how you're doing. And I'm sure Jean will be staying on for a few days to help you adjust."

"Of course I am!" Jean announced. "Somebody's has to show these two what happens after the baby arrives!"

"Oh, alright." David answered, though he still looked a little lost.

Tricia just sent them a tired smile. "Thank you John, Nancy." She said. "I think I will just get some sleep."

**_"_**_….__so there you have it Heyes._" Curry wrote._ "They named the little fella 'Nathanial' after Trish's father and 'Charles' after David's father, so the little guy already has quite the lineage to live up to. Wonder if he'll become a doctor too!_

_I haven't met him yet. When I drove in to pick up Belle, Tricia and little Nathan were asleep so of course I didn't want to disturb them. Plenty of time for introductions later._

_Don't be surprised if you get a letter from David as soon as his head comes down out of the clouds! I have no doubt that he will fill in all the details for you to the point where you will swear you were there! Something for you to look forward to._

_Well, again Heyes; 'Happy Birthday' seems kinda lame considering, but I wanted to drop you a line to acknowledge it anyways. Everyone else sends good wishes etc. I'm hoping to get in to see ya' in late March, early April but as usual it all depends on the weather. In the mean time take care of yourself and I say again; stay outa trouble! It's just not worth it, getting beat up all the time and even I can tell that Carson is getting harder and harder on ya' each time you provoke him—so don't do it!_

_Okay, enough lecturing. See ya' soon._

_Jed.'_

Heyes settled back into his pillow and took a sip of coffee. So there it was; life goes on and there he sat, drinking coffee and staring at the walls of his cell. Well, he should be happy for David he supposed. Heyes couldn't stop life from continuing on around him and without him so he may as well just accept it and try to be happy for the good things that were happening back home.

He supposed that the next grand event would be the arrival of Karma's foal and he felt rest assured that he would be receiving a very detailed letter about that occasion as well. After that would be Steven and Bridget's wedding—more letters. More 'wish you could have been here' and 'thinking of you' and 'please take care of yourself'. Heyes sighed. Another sip of coffee. The most he had to look forward to was the coming of warm weather, then it'd be too hot and he'd be looking forward to autumn. Oh well.

So, February slid away and March roared in to take its place. Would the snow ever stop falling? What time Heyes did get to spend outside was usually made up of hard work, shoveling said snow away from the main gate and along the roadway in order to allow the provisions wagon access to the yard. By the time he and a few other 'lucky' inmates had spent the day doing that they were all cold and wet and exhausted. No need to listen to music in his head to fall asleep those nights!

He was dreaming about Abi again—a lot! But they were sad dreams. They'd start out happy enough; they would be together, sharing a home, building a life but then all of a sudden he would be inside the cell again and the door would clang shut and lock down and Abi would drift away. He could see her disappear down the aisle and he'd want so much to go with her but he couldn't get out of his cell and he would call to her to wait for him, but she wouldn't answer and simply wave goodbye and then be gone in a wisp of mist or smoke or cloud or…memory.

Then he'd wake up sad and lonely and melancholy, feeling like he was never going to get out of here. Then the morning buzzer would sound and the cell doors would all open and he'd be up and having to face another day.

Gradually though, the temperatures did begin to warm up a bit and the snows began to melt away. Heyes had sent a quick note off to Kid in acknowledgement of his birthday and also to send his congratulations to David. Jed had been right in that David had written a rather extended version of the Kid's announcement of the new arrival. Though it was old news by then, David's excitement and pleasure was addictive and Heyes even found himself smiling with amusement at some of his friends' descriptive narrative. The good doctor just couldn't be any more thrilled about being a new father.

Life goes on—even if it is dull and mundane. Then Heyes was hit with another surprise, one more thing that was going to make his life just a little bit better—one more thing that he could add on to his list of 'things' that he could look forward to. Although at first it did not appear that way to the convict, indeed at first he found himself feeling anxious about it and even a little resentful at being 'roped' into doing something he really didn't want to do.

Sister Julia approached Heyes in the infirmary, smiling a smile that set off warning bells and almost caused him to glance around to look for an escape route.

"Good morning Joshua!" The Sister greeted him. "It's nice to see you again, and it appears that you have come through the winter without any new injuries!"

"Yes Sister." Heyes confirmed though his brow furrowed a bit with growing suspicion and never being one to beat around the bush, he came out and asked her point blank; "Is there something on your mind Sister?"

"Well yes there is!" The Sister responded with a big smile and a conspiratorial hand on his arm. "My orphans would like to meet you Joshua."

"Ohhh, well now Sister, I don't know…."

"Well why not?" She asked all feigning surprise at his reluctance. "They feel such a connection to you and it would do you good to talk with them."

"It would do me good?" Heyes asked a little incredulously. "How do you figure that Sister?"

"For one thing you could get out of here for awhile." She pointed out, but then stopped the teasing and became a little more serious. "You'd be surprised Joshua, how spending some time with children can brighten the heart and lighten the soul."

"I don't think so Sister." Heyes tried to back out. "I'd have nothing to say to them."

"Oh, don't worry about that; they'll do most of the talking." Then it was the Sister's turn to furrow her brow in concern as she noticed the tightening around his mouth and the hard look in his eye. "What are you so afraid of Joshua?"

Heyes smiled awkwardly. "I'm not afraid." He insisted as he dropped his gaze from hers and kinda-sorta shuffled his feet. "I mean—I just don't know what I would say to them. They think I'm this 'romantic hero'. How am I supposed to live up to that?"

"You don't." She told him. "Just be yourself."

Heyes snorted derisively but then continued to look uncomfortable, almost to the point of defensive.

"That would be pretty disappointing." He mumbled. "The 'dashing, romantic hero' being revealed as nothing more than a thief and a con man."

"Joshua, you know there is a lot more to you than that." The Sister pointed out, taking a hard line now. "As I mentioned to you before; you have a shared history with these children and I know that you would have a lot to offer them." Then she smiled and squeezed his arm again. "C'mon, just come the one time at least and if you don't want to come back again, then you don't have to."

"I don't think the warden would approve…."

"I have already spoken with Warden Mitchell about this." The Sister informed him. "He has given his approval, and Officers Reece and Pearson have agreed to accompany you."

And this was where Heyes began to feel like he had been backed into a corner. All this conspiring going on around and about him and he was the last one to know. Well that was typical, he supposed! His shoulders slumped as he submitted to the inevitable and Sister Julia smiled knowing that she had won the day.

"Good!" She exclaimed and her smile broadened. "The children will be thrilled!"

Heyes was in a foul mood for the rest of the day. Again, it was a situation where he had decided that he was going to be snarky and miserable because he hadn't gotten his way and everyone else around him was going to pay for it.

"What the hell is your problem!?" Morin finally snapped at him. "You're acting like a bear with a bee up its butt! If you're gonna carry on like this why don't you just go back to your cell and save me the misery of your company!"

"I don't wanna go back to my cell."

"Well I don't want ya' here if you're gonna carry on like this!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

Then the two men stood and glared at each other, neither one showing any sign of backing down. Considering how stubborn both men could be once they're riled, there was no telling how long the stand-off would have continued on for if Officer Reece hadn't chosen that moment to drop by the infirmary.

"What's got you two at odds?" Reece asked as he approached the pair.

"How the hell should I know?" Morin growled. "Heyes is the one walkin' around with his hackles up—ask him! But have your bully club ready Ken, he just might bite!" And then the doctor turned and started towards his office, mumbling._ "Son of a bitch…!"_

Kenny couldn't help but smile at the doctor's obvious irritation but then his expression turned serious as he looked over at the inmate. Heyes instantly dropped his gaze and relaxed his hostile stance.

"You looking for trouble today Heyes?" Kenny asked him.

"No sir Mr. Reece. No trouble."

"Good." Kenny responded. "Because I need to ask something of you and I want you to answer me honestly." Heyes continued to stare at the floor. "Has Sister Julia spoken to you about the proposed trip to the orphanage?"

"Yessir."

"Good." Kenny repeated. Then the guard took a deep breath and correlated his thoughts before expressing them. "I would not normally bother to ask an inmate this question because most of the inmates here I would not trust to give me an honest answer. On the other hand I know that you are a man of your word; that once you give it you will keep it." A slight frown flashed across Heyes' face as he continued to look at the floor. He was wondering where this was going. "Now, on the trip to the orphanage you will be transported in the prison wagon and you will be shackled hand and foot as usual. But I believe it would be more suitable that once we enter the building and you are presented to the children that the shackles should be removed."

Here Kenny paused and sent the inmate a strong look. "Heyes, look at me. Look me in the eye."

Heyes raised his gaze from the floor and looked straight and solid into Kenny's gray eyes.

"I need your word that you will not, at any point during this venture, try to escape. Do I have your word on that Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes blinked and swallowed, feeling strangely honoured that Kenny would even ask him for that.

"Yessir, Mr. Reece." Heyes answered him through a slightly tightened throat. "You have my word."

"Good." Kenny nodded and then a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "Because Warden Mitchell has given me strict instructions that he would rather I bring you back dead then not bring you back at all. And I must admit that having to shoot you down in front of the Sisters and a group of orphaned children would tend to ruin my day. Do we understand each other?"

It was Heyes' turn to feel the tug of a smile, and he nodded. "Yessir, Mr. Reece. You have my word I will not try to escape."

"Good." Kenny said again. "Carry on Convict. I'll see you in the morning."

The next day Heyes was feeling decidedly nervous and he was kinda mad at himself for it. What was the big deal anyways? They were just a bunch of children—not like he was on trial again and his whole future hinged on the outcome! What did it matter? Just relax.

Still, as he pulled on his layers of clothing in preparation for heading outdoors he just couldn't quiet the butterflies in his stomach; he just wasn't very comfortable around children. Kid was better; yeah Kid should be the one doing this! Maybe he would suggest that to Sister Julia later on, yeah; ask Kid to do it. It would be easier to arrange too since he could just swing by the orphanage on his way to or from visiting with Heyes. No need for guards or transportation, he could just go on his own. Yeah, Heyes liked that idea. But in the meantime, he still had to get through today.

Kenny came to collect him shortly after breakfast and took him down to the room by the visitor's area and got him ready for transport. Simply out of routine and the discipline of following the rules, Kenny put him up face first against the wall and did a thorough patting down of his person and then buckling the belt around the inmate's waist, turned him around and snapped his hands into the cuffs. Then the guard grabbed a set of leg irons, and taking Heyes by the arm, they headed out down the corridor to the next stop.

Pearson was already waiting for them at the door to the armory and gave his boss a nod of greeting as the two men approached. Pearson was armed already with a hand gun and a rifle and it didn't take Kenny long to get himself organized with the same equipment. He strapped on the holster, put on a coat and hat and then quickly checked over his weapons to make sure they were both loaded and ready for use.

The three men then headed towards the exit out to the yard with Heyes feeling like all this was a bit of overkill. He'd already given his word that he wouldn't try anything, but he supposed they had to follow orders and be prepared. Who knows? Maybe this was all a set up and the Devil's Hole Gang was going to waylay them out on the road and abscond with the prisoner. Heyes allowed a pessimistic smirk to escape; yeah, like that was gonna happen. Kenny glanced at him and Heyes gave a slight shake of his head; he hadn't meant anything by it.

Stepping outside Heyes could feel the damp chilliness in the air and was happy for his toque and sweater. It wasn't raining at the moment, but it was a cold, overcast day and the melting slush and gray pools of standing water made it feel like January all over again instead of March. Even with his layers of clothing on Heyes shivered a little in the morning air and found himself hoping that it wouldn't take too long to reach their destination, despite what waited for him there.

Pearson opened the back door of the armored coach and stepped up and in, then turned and waited for the inmate to do the same. Heyes certainly remembered his last journey in this coach, even though he had been out cold through a lot of the trip and then hurting pretty badly from his encounter with Mike for the rest of it.

The only times Heyes had been transported outside the prison had been during the summer months when he and some of the other inmates would make up a work gang and been put to work. On those occasions the armored coach wasn't used since it would have been as hot as an oven for the convicts to be forced to ride in. Instead they had been transported in a converted buckboard that had metal rings embedded in the floor boards so the prisoners could be secured where they sat along a makeshift bench. Not particularly comfortable, but even Heyes could appreciate the difference between riding in an open buckboard and being cooped up inside an iron coach in the summer time!

So, with an eerie feeling of déjà vu Heyes stepped up into the coach and with Kenny coming in right behind him, he sat down on the side bench and waited. Reece handed his rifle over to Pearson, then knelt down at Heyes' feet and snapped on the leg irons, then he ran the chain through the ring in the floor and pulled it up to attach to the belt around the inmates waist. Then he stood up, took his rifle back from Pearson and sat himself down opposite the prisoner and gave a nod to the other guard.

"Okay Pearson." He said. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Yessir." Came the response.

Pearson exited the coach and closed the door. Heyes could hear the ominous sound of the bolt sliding across and the lock clicking into place. He shivered again, only this time it wasn't from the cold. He always hated that sound and being in prison where he was hearing it on a regular basis hadn't made it any easier to take. He gave a heavy sigh and inadvertently glanced over at the guard sitting across from him.

Kenny was smiling at him.

"C'mon Heyes." He said. "Why don't you just try and look at this as a break from the routine? I can think of plenty of other inmates who would jump at a chance like this."

Heyes smirked as the coach gave a jolt and started moving towards the gates. Yeah, a break from the routine, he thought. So was having the dentist come and pull teeth without any painkiller. Oh, let's just get this day over with so he could get back to his routine—what a nuisance!

As it happened, the convent and orphanage were on the other side of Laramie from the prison so naturally the fastest route to it was straight through town. Heyes' spirits lifted a little bit as they came through the main street of the busy town and he shifted a little against his chains so that he could look out the barred window and watch the townsfolk moving about their business.

Heyes couldn't help but envy them; there was a time when he would have thought of their lives as mundane, but now he just wished he could be a part of what they had. They had freedom. Sure they had worries too, making a living and raising families wasn't always easy, but at least they had freedom of will, they could make choices and didn't have to kowtow to anyone, unless it was their boss—or their wife!

Funny, Heyes mused, you just don't appreciate that freedom until it's taken from you and then there you are, staring at it through the bars of a prison wishing you could just reach out and touch it and then it would be yours again. He smiled at two young boys running down the boardwalk, making pests of themselves where ever they went. And then that little girl, stamping her foot in anger because her mother was saying 'no'. Reminded him of two other young girls he used to know.

Then a couple of more blocks down were the saloon and whore house, the section of town where the nice people didn't go—and Heyes felt right at home. He smiled and actually yelled a greeting back at the pretty little thing in a corset and high heels that waved at him and showed a bit of leg despite the chill in the air. Oh what a tease! She knew darn well there was nothing he could do but she sent him a sweet smile and a kiss anyways.

Heyes laughed and then shook his head. Damn! What he could do with her! To hell with going to the convent and spending time with the orphans—he could just stay right here and fill in the time quite nicely! Oh well. The coach carried on through the back side of the town and headed down the road towards their destination and all the sights and sounds of activity were left behind them.

Heyes came around and settled back into position again and he noticed Kenny watching him. He looked away from those gray eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had allowed a natural male lusting to take hold of him like that. But it had been so long since he'd had anything other than his own imagination to make love to that the sight of a young lady's bare leg was more than enough to send him over the edge. If nothing else it at least confirmed again that Heyes was still quite capable and the only thing putting a damper on his libido was prison life!

Kenny just smiled. He wasn't being judgmental, just observant. He knew that side of prison life was extremely hard on the younger inmates and that sexual frustration was most of what was behind a lot of the aggressive behavior exhibited by the more alpha of the inmates down on the work floor. Still, he didn't have an answer for it; it's not like they could bring women into the prison to fulfill that need—jeez talk about the makings of a brawl there!

The two men sat in silence, Kenny thankful that he had a wife to go home to and Heyes wishing that he did—or at least the equivalent. They continued on in that manner, each lost in their own thoughts until they were at the convent. Pearson pulled the horses to a halt up by the main gate and they could hear him asking directions from ole' Bill as to how to best access the orphanage. Then Pearson clucked to the horses and they were on the move again.

Twenty minutes the coach was stopped one more time and they heard Pearson pull the brakes on and then start to climb down from the driver's seat. The Ulster had come up to take hold of the near horse's bridle and they could hear him and Pearson discussing the welfare of the horses and coach for the duration and then Pearson walked to the back of the coach and unlocked the door.

Opening up the back, he stepped up and into the coach and Kenny handed him his rifle and then knelt down by Heyes' feet and released him from the ring in the floor. Then he unlocked the leg irons and leaving them on the bench, he took hold of Heyes' arm and pulled him to his feet. He took back his rifle from Pearson and then all three men disembarked to land outside on the cold slushy ground.

Heyes found himself looking at a large white structure that looked somewhat similar to a southern plantation type of house. There were steps leading up to a large wrap around veranda where there was a solid double wide front door and lots of windows with green shutters now open to let in what little sunlight there was to be had. All in all it felt like a warm and inviting home and Heyes couldn't help but feel a little envious when comparing this place to Valparaiso—well, there just was no comparison!

The three men started up the steps, Pearson in front then Heyes with Kenny still holding onto his arm—just a subtle but non-threatening reminder to the inmate that he was still a prisoner and that certain rules still applied. Just as they were reaching the landing, Sister Julia who had been informed of their arrival, opened the front door and greeted them with her usual friendly smile.

"Gentlemen! How wonderful to see you!" She exclaimed as though it were a huge surprise. Then she smiled over at Heyes. "Hello Joshua."

"Sister." He returned her smile with a friendly nod.

"Sister Julia." Reece greeted her. "I'll trust you to lead the way."

"Of course gentlemen. Do come in."

Stepping into the alcove was like coming into a mansion when compared to what Heyes had become accustomed to. The carpeting and hard wood floors were old and had seen better days, but they were clean and well cared for. The walls were adorned with photographs and artwork, obviously created by the children of various ages and creative talent levels. But each one was given its special place without concern over technique or level of ability and went a long ways towards making visitors feel welcome.

There was also a big wood stove doing a good job of sending out a low steady burn that sent heat throughout the downstairs rooms and Heyes smiled as he felt the warmth of it settle into his fingers. The two that had been broken still tended to ach when they got cold so the heat coming to them was very much appreciated.

"This way, gentlemen." Sister Julia directed them as she headed down the hallway. "The children are in class right now, but I'm sure they won't mind this diversion."

Oh boy—here we go. Heyes felt the butterflies attack his stomach again. He was going to have to tread lambently here. What was he going to say? How was he going to approach them? He hadn't even been this nervous at his first bank robbery! He felt certain that if Kenny hadn't had a hold of his arm, encouraging him to keep moving forward he would have broke and made a run back to the prison coach!

They reached the end of the hallway and Sister Julia smiled back at them, then knocked on the door, opened it, went inside and then closed it behind her.

"Okay Heyes, come here." Said Kenny as he turned the prisoner towards him. "Remember our agreement and behave yourself, alright?"

"Yeah." Heyes croaked.

Kenny smiled as he unlocked the hand cuffs and removed the belt from around Heyes' waist.

"Just relax Heyes." He suggested. "Try to enjoy yourself. I'm the one with the rifle, not them."

"Hmmm."

Then the door opened again and Sister Julia motioned for them to come in. Kenny checked his rifle to make sure the safety was on and then kept the weapon pointed down towards the floor. He nodded to Pearson, indicating for him to stand guard outside the door and then he gave Heyes a push, sending him into no man's land.

Heyes thought for sure that he was going to throw up. This was just like walking onto that courtroom again and knowing that all eyes were upon him. Sister Julia smiled at his discomfort and taking his arm, she pulled him forward to stand by the front desk where she introduced him to the older Sister who had been teaching the class.

"Joshua, this is Sister Cornelia." Sister Julia stated. "She generally teaches the older children but today we brought all the children in to the one room so that they could all meet you." Heyes smiled a little nervously. "Sister Cornelia, this is Hannibal Heyes."

"Mr. Heyes." The older Sister greeted him. "How nice to meet you. I dare say the children greatly appreciated the letter you sent them at Christmas."

"Ahhh, thank you ma'am—ah Sister." Heyes returned the greeting, remembering to remove his toque. "I really appreciated the cookies."

This comment was met by some stifled giggling from the assembly and Heyes turned to survey his audience. Indeed the small classroom was filled with about twenty children, all ranging in age from six up to about fifteen and every one of them was looking with awe and excitement at their infamous visitor. Heyes took a deep cleansing breath and decided that if he was going to do this, he may as well do it right!

He smiled until his dimples shone through. "Good morning!" He greeted them all. "How are you all doing today?"

A loud chorus of ; "Fine Mr. Heyes!" came cascading back at him and he knew from the dropped jaws and admiring looks from all the young ladies—irrelevant of age—that his dimples and dark brown eyes had already won them over.

"Now I was led to believe." He began, while leaning back against the front desk. "That all you fine ladies and gentlemen pestered poor Sister Julia no end until she agreed to invite me here for this visit."

This statement was met with some embarrassed giggling from the girls and rolling eyes from the boys—boys always were harder to impress.

"So what made you think that I would be willing to leave my tiny, cold, dark cell to come here to this fine warm and comfortable home to spent my time talking with you lot?"

This was met with some more giggling and then one young man in the back row raised his hand and stood up.

"We were hopin' you could tell us about how you grew up, Mr. Heyes." He stated matter-of-factly. "Considerin' you was raised in an orphanage too."

"Yeah." Heyes nodded and crossed his arms. "I could do that. What's your name?"

"Michael, sir."

"Good to meet ya' Michael." Heyes responded. "What would you like to know?"

"Well, was it much different from what we have here?"

"Ohhh yeah!" Heyes was emphatic. "As soon as I stepped into the front foyer here I knew it was different!" He paused and became reflective. "As I mentioned in my letter to you; the Civil War was raging and nobody had time for orphans. Valparaiso was cold in the winter and hot in the summer and there was never enough to eat. I had to steal food in order to keep myself and my cousin from starving." He smiled. "Looking at you lot I don't think you have that problem here."

"NO!"

"We get lots to eat!"

"That's terrible! No wonder you ran away!"

Heyes grinned.

Kenny smiled and settled himself against the wall by the classroom door. He wasn't surprised to see Heyes rising to the occasion. His vocal dexterity and natural charm had taken over and now that he was on a roll chances were good they were going to be there for the rest of the morning.

"Was it fun robbing trains and banks?"

"What's your name?"

"Sally."

"Sally. You asked me that in your letter didn't you?"

Sally blushed but smiled, obviously pleased that he had actually remembered her.

"I don't know if 'fun' is the right word for it." Heyes explained. "It was exciting, but dangerous too. Especially the trains. Trains are like a moving building and forcing one to stop required precise timing and just a little bit of crazy." Sadness crossed over his features, just for an instant. "I lost more than one man who misjudged his jump and ended up under the wheels."

He looked out at his audience and was met by dropped jaws and wide eyes, everyone was entranced. He smiled again.

"Anyway—that's just one of the reasons me and Kid decided to get out of the business."

"Why else would you want to quit?" Asked another boy. "You were so good at it!"

"Why thank you!" Heyes was genuinely pleased. "What's your name?"

"Henry."

"Henry." Heyes thought about it for a moment. "I didn't get a letter from you did I?"

Henry looked embarrassed and kinda shuffled around in his chair.

"No sir."

"Well that's alright Henry." Heyes assured him. "A lot of young men don't like to write letters."

Again Heyes was saying all the right things and Henry smiled with pride at being referred to as a 'young man'.

"I guess the main reason me and Kid decided to quit the business was because we began to realize how wrong it was." Heyes explained. "We always prided ourselves in the fact that we never hurt anyone, but then we started to realize that there is more than one way to hurt another person. We always told ourselves that we were just stealing from the large corporations, so that made it alright. But the truth of it is; we were stealing from every day folk too; people who had to work hard for their money and that wasn't right. It also wasn't right to hold innocent folk at gunpoint, which we did on a regular basis. That can be very frightening for people and even though we never hurt anyone, we still caused harm."

Heyes paused here, feeling a little warm with the heat from the wood stove finally seeping into his bones. He automatically started to pull his tunic up over his sweater but then remembered his situation and sent a quick glance over to Kenny who was now sitting by the door. Kenny gave him a subtle nod of permission and Heyes completed the task of pulling off the tunic and laying it aside. He turned back to the class and instantly noticed a change in the atmosphere. The smiles were gone from the youthful faces and their glances were shifting back and forth between Heyes and Reece. The casual exchange between prisoner and guard and its meaning had not been lost on the assembly.

Heyes smiled, taking the opportunity to put in a bit of a tease.

"Oh, don't worry about Officer Reece." He commented. "I just like to let him feel like he's doing his job."

Reece rolled his eyes, but it broke the mood and the children giggled and returned their focus to the ex-outlaw. Another little boy stood up then, and having figured out the protocol, began his question with his name.

"My name is Charlie." He said.

"Yes Charlie, what would you like to know?"

"How did you get a funny name like 'Hannibal'?" He asked with a bit of a smirk. "I never heard of such a name before."

Heyes smirked himself at that one—one thing about children; they aren't bashful about asking the 'silly' questions.

"Well, Ahhh ha!" He laughed. "It's kinda a long story, but my Great Grandfather was really interested in history. Apparently he had quite a library over in England and was always reading up on the great military battles from centuries ago and there was this one fella—well I guess he was a general or something, but he was a leader of men anyways. But his name was Hannibal and he apparently took his army that included elephants and horses and all sorts of hangers-on and he crossed the Alps with them.

"I'm not really sure what it was all about, it happened such a long time ago, but it is still considered to be one of the greatest military achievements of all time. So, my Great Grandpa was so impressed with this man that he named his eldest son after him. Now apparently my Grandpa wasn't too thrilled with having been labeled with such a handle because he didn't pass it on to any of his sons, so the name skipped a generation.

"Then my Pa decided to get sentimental about the old country and the family that he had left behind there by coming to the America's and so he saddled me with the name and I've had to live with it ever since."

"Ohhh." Came the unified and sympathetic response from the group.

"But I like that name." Came the quiet admittance from little Melanie sitting in the back corner. "It's different. It makes you special."

Heyes looked back at her and a warm smile settled onto his features. Maybe he should start appreciating his given name a little bit more. But then a full grin broke out over his face and a sparkle came to his eye.

"Well, if you like that one young lady, you're going to love my second name." He told her. "It seems my parents were really homesick by the time I came along and added Ellstrom to the damage they'd already done."

"Ellstrom!?" Came the boisterous reply from most of the boys in the classroom.

"Oh no!"

"No wonder you became an outlaw!"

"Was that your Ma's name before she married your Pa?" Carol asked. "That's where my brother got his second name from; it was from my Ma's family."

At which point a particular little boy sent his sister a reprimanding look and then silently mouthed the decree; "Don't you dare tell him!"

Heyes smiled at the sibling conflict. "You're close." Heyes told her. "My Ma's maiden name was 'Curry'."

"Oh yeah."

"That's right—Kid Curry's your cousin."

"I forgot about that."

"Yeah." Heyes confirmed. "But 'Ellstrom' was her mother's maiden name. So they were really going back to make sure they gave me the worse name possible."

Most of the boys laughed and hooted over that, but most of the girls seemed to think that there was nothing wrong with the name at all. Little Melanie especially thought that they were both quite nice names and were actually very romantic, in a heroic sort of way.

After a few minutes of boisterous teasing and joking with one another about various family names the group settled down again and then one of the older girls raised her hand and introduced herself.

"Mr. Heyes, my name is Gillian."

Heyes smiled at her. "Hello Gillian. I remember your letter. Did you have another question for me?"

"Yes sir. Since your name is 'Hannibal' how come Sister Julia always calls you 'Joshua'?"

"Well, you see, that was the name I was using when we first met Sister Julia." Heyes explained. "Even though the Kid and I had gone straight the law was still looking for us so we had to go by aliases in order to stay discreet."

"What's an 'alias'?"

"Oh, well that's a name you go by when you don't want people to know who you really are." Heyes told her. "So Sister Julia first came to know me as Joshua Smith and I suppose she just prefers to continue using that name rather than switching over to my legal handle. I don't mind—I like the name 'Joshua' which is I suppose, why I chose it for my alias in the first place."

"Does everyone else call you 'Hannibal' now that you're not wanted anymore?" Came a question from the back of the room.

"Some do, even some who used to know me as 'Joshua' have switched over to 'Hannibal'." Heyes admitted. "But some still call me 'Joshua'—most just call me Heyes." Then he smiled in recollection. "There is one lady in particular though who so thoroughly despises my given name that she insists on calling me 'Mr. Heyes', even though we've been lov….ah, I mean good friends for some time now."

A couple of the older boys picked up on the slip and smiled knowingly, but on the most part this admission was taken at face value and met with giggles and comments about how silly that was; she should appreciate his given name—it was special!

Then little Sally stood up again and raised her hand.

"Yes Sally." Heyes acknowledged her.

"I read in one of the dime novels that you held up a stagecoach and took all their money." She informed him. "But that's not stealing from the large person, that's stealing from the little people."

"Yes it is." Heyes agreed with her. "And you can't believe everything you read in those dime novels. Actually." And he smiled. "You can't believe most of what you read in those dime novels. Kid and I never held up stagecoaches, mainly for that very reason. Coaches never carried anything of much value. They might occasionally have a payroll, but usually it was just mail and then whatever the passengers were carrying, so it really wasn't worth our while. We focused on trains and banks, cause, well—that's where the money was kept."

Even Kenny got a bit of a chuckle out of that reasoning, but it was drowned out by the hoots and chortles coming from the children.

Then Heyes noticed two of the older boys in the back having a silent argument. The one was nudging his friend trying to get him to do something, but the other one obviously did not want to do it and kept slapping his friend's nudges away and mouthing 'no' whenever it came up. Naturally this picked at Heyes' curiosity.

"You fellas got something ya' want to ask?" He sent back to them.

All heads turned and suddenly they were the focus of attention. They both looked a little embarrassed at being found out, but then the one who had been doing the nudging stood up and introduced himself.

"Ah, yessir Mr. Heyes." He self-consciously admitted. "My name is William, sir. Ah, we was wondering; what's it like in prison? If ya' don't mind sayin', sir."

Heyes leaned back and crossed his arms for a moment while he contemplated the questions.

"No, I don't mind sayin'." He admitted. "It's a good question. Actually that was one of the things my cousin asked me the first time he came to visit. I mean, we'd always speculated about that. We both had a prison sentence hanging over our heads so of course you think about it from time to time. You know; what if…? That sort of thing. And like I told him; it's worse than anything we had imagined."

A few low groans came from his audience. Heyes was silent for a moment, contemplating his answer. Everyone in the room; children and adults alike, waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts and voice his opinion.

"It's not that Kid and I didn't have good imaginations, it's just that living the reality of it is worse than any imaginings could possibly have been." Heyes explained. "It's not just that your freedom is gone—that's obvious. But your freedom of speech is taken from you, your right to have an opinion, your individuality. You're no longer allowed to be 'a person' you are now a 'convict' and convicts don't have rights or opinions; you do what you're told and if you don't do it fast enough then you're punished."

The room was silent and all eyes were on him. Heyes felt an overwhelming sadness come over him as he was once again reminded of his true situation. But then, looking at the wide-eyed audience sitting before him he decided it would be best not to dwell on his own personal feelings, but on the situation as a whole and how it might relate to these youngsters who apparently thought that anything he had to say was important.

"So." He continued with a big sigh. "My advice to you is to avoid prison at any cost. I've noticed some young fellas here who are just coming of age and I remember when I was fourteen, fifteen years old and how I felt about things." Heyes' eyes locked on to the older boys in the group. "I know you're feeling restless, like you want to break out of here and go your own way."

The older boys all nodded silently. They were feeling a little naked having this person whom they respected and admired for his audacity suddenly turn the tables on them—as though he could see into their very souls.

"But as I said in my letter; please don't follow in my footsteps. For one thing, our situation was far different than yours is here. Jed and I were starving and Valparaiso had nothing for us. But even then I often wonder if we made the right choice to leave at that time. We had no skills and very little education to help us get legitimate work. The only choice we had in order to survive was to steal.

"I would hate to feel that any of you think that because that is the choice we made that it supports you doing the same thing. For one thing, Jed and I both regret the decisions we made although looking back, I don't honestly know what else we could have done given the circumstances. But you young men—you have choices here.

"This is a good place. You're well fed; you have people here who care about you. You're getting an education. Believe me; nothing is more important than an education. You might be feeling restless, that you want to move on. But I'm standing here pleading with you to hang on until you have something to move on to. No one out there is going to care about you in the way that the Sisters here do. No one out there wants to see you succeed, because you're all after the same jobs, the same opportunities—they'll be knifing you in the back in order to get that job for themselves! All you are is someone standing in their way.

"The only way you can succeed out there now is with an education. Officer Reece here knows that." And Heyes glanced back at a surprised Kenny. Heyes smiled and then turned back to his audience. "He works hard at a job that maybe he doesn't always want to do because he wants to see his children get an education. I admire him for that. He knows the importance of that. Now Officer Reece and I, well we didn't have the opportunity of the kind of schooling that you have right here. I guess the Civil War took that away from both of us. But he knows the importance of it and he works hard to send his children to college.

"So, if I can instill anything in any of you today; it's the importance of staying in school and learning as much as you possibly can. And if a trade is offered to you, then thank your lucky stars and grab it. If any of you are fortunate enough to have an opportunity to go to college, again—grab it!

You don't want to end up like me and Kid. There is nothing romantic or honourable about what we did, we were simply thieves. We fell into that way of life out of desperation—just trying to stay alive, but we continued on in that way of life because it was easy money and good times. But good times earned that way don't last and eventually you have to take responsibility and pay your dues. You don't want to do what we did. You don't want to end up in prison."

The room was engulfed in silence again. Everyone was solemn and a little scared. Then another tiny arm was raised and a little voice came forth.

"Are the guards mean to you?" Asked little Melanie. "Are they not very nice?"

"Ahhh." Heyes glanced back at Kenny again and was met by a raised eyebrow. How are you going to answer this one, Buckwheat? Heyes smiled. "Well, it depends." He admitted. "Most of them are just doing their jobs and they treat us pretty fairly. Some of 'em can be a little mean and I gotta watch my back around them." Moans and groans from the audience. "But others, like Officer Reece here," Heyes emphasized. "Are very fair and only hit us when we deserve it."

This statement was met with mixed reviews. Most of the children accepted this statement as fair treatment, but a few of the others creased their brows and sent Officer Reece some suspicious looks.

Heyes laughed. "No no." He assured them. "Officer Reece is one of the 'good guards'. No need for violence. You be nice to him and he'll be nice to me."

Then everyone smiled and Kenny was 'accepted' into the inner circle. Then a little bit of a lull in the conversation before another young boy raised his hand. Heyes acknowledged him.

"Yes, you have a question?"

"Yessir. My name is Todd."

"Okay Todd, nice to meet you. What would you like to know?

"Yes sir. How come you got sent to prison and Kid Curry didn't?" He asked. "Was he not as good an outlaw as you?"

Heyes grinned and then laughed out loud. Oh, Kid would love this!

"That's always been my opinion!" He joked, but then he turned serious again and truly contemplated the question.

How was he supposed to answer that one? He considered just giving a simple pat answer and move on, but he remembered back to when he was this boy's age and how much he hated it when adults were condescending towards him. It was a legitimate question; it deserved a legitimate answer.

"No, seriously; Jed Curry was and is my equal partner in all ways." Heyes emphasized, and then he furrowed his brow and with pursed lips contemplated the best way to explain the politics of what had happened.

The children all waited with bated breath for Heyes' answer, and Kenny had to admit that he was curious as well to hear what Heyes would have to say on that. Finally Heyes took a deep breath and began to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

"As I said before; the Kid and I had come to realize that what we were doing was wrong." Heyes explained. "So we went to our friend, Sheriff Trevors and asked him if he would broker an amnesty for us with the Governor of Wyoming."

"What does that mean?" Came the question from the group.

"Ahhh, that means to arrange or to set up an agreement with the law that if we stopped robbing trains and banks that they would stop chasing us and shooting at us and we could just become ordinary law-biding citizens. Hmmm, sounds kinda' arrogant now that I think of it. Anyway, the Governor wasn't willing to just hand us over a pardon after all the things that we'd done, he wanted us to show that we were serious about it and to prove to him that we could stay outa trouble for a certain amount of time.

"Anyway, time went on and governor's changed and none of them wanted to risk their political careers by granting us pardons, so it just never happened. Then one day, the inevitable came about and we were arrested and brought to trial. Now a good friend of ours told us that if we allowed ourselves to remain in custody and actually go to trial then he would stand by us and help in any way that he could. So that's what we decided to do."

Heyes stopped again and took a deep breath. He could feel a lot of the anger and resentment over his situation threaten to rise up and come forth again but he kept a lid on it and was able to continue on with the narrative without his emotions tainting the words.

"Lots of people got involved then." He explained. "Many were insisting that the Governor's Office should honour it's agreement and grant us the amnesty, after all we had held up our end of the deal and had shown that we could stay law-abiding so many people felt that we had earned it. But then on the other hand all the large corporations were pretty mad at us and were putting pressure on the Governor's Office to ignore the amnesty agreement and send us to prison.

"So, Governor Warren decided that to try and keep everyone happy he would play the middle ground. To keep the powerful and wealthy corporations satisfied he would send one of us to prison, and to keep the common folk, but tax payers—and voters—happy, he would grant the other the amnesty.

"So, it was just through a twist of fate, really that I ended up going to trial first and thereby being the one who was sent to prison and Jed Curry ended up receiving the amnesty."

A heavy silence enveloped the classroom. Kenny wondered fleetingly if he was going to have a small riot on his hands. Fortunately the protests, when they came, were all of the verbal variety.

"That's not fair!"

"How could he do that?"

"You both should have got it!"

"Yeah! We should let the Governor know that he should do something about that!"

"We should all go to Cheyenne and let him know!"

"Yeah, we can all go!"

"Whoa!" Heyes held up his hands in mild pretest. "Hang on! I don't think the Sisters would be too happy with you all heading off to Cheyenne!"

"No indeed." Sister Cornelia piped in. "Perhaps you could write letters instead. How would that be?"

Heyes smiled. "There ya' go." He agreed. "I'm sure the Governor would love to get a sack full of letters from the orphaned children in Laramie!"

This suggestion was met with a loud chorus of approval and instantly all the children were on their feet and chattering amongst themselves about the best way to tackle this new assignment. Heyes was thoroughly enjoying himself as he sat on the desk, watching the loud and animated conversation swirling on around him and Kenny just sighed and shook his head. He should have known that Heyes would find a way to get them riled up about something.

Then Sister Cornelia, who was not as accustomed to prison discipline as Sister Julia was, took up the yard stick in an attempt to bring the children back to order.

"Children! Children! Quiet down!" She insisted while at the same time bringing the stick down in three hard successive raps against the desk right next to where Heyes was sitting.

The inmate's reaction was instantaneous! He was on his feet in a flash bringing his arm up to protect that side of his head from an expected blow and nearly loosing his balance in his attempt to avoid the assault. Kenny was also quick to his feet and over to the inmate's side, grabbing his other arm to steady him and stop him from over-reacting.

"Easy Heyes!" Reece told him. "You're alright. It was nothing."

Heyes looked around at him, obviously shaken. "What?"

"You're alright Heyes." Kenny repeated. "Just relax."

"Oh. Yeah." Heyes did then relax a bit, but he could still feel himself shaking. Then he smiled, a little embarrassed by his reaction. "I'm sorry Sister—you just startled me."

"Yes, I can see that." Sister Cornelia observed, looking concerned. "I do apologize, I didn't realize…."

The door to the classroom opened and Pearson stuck his head in.

"Everything alright in here?" He asked.

"Yes, Mr. Pearson." Kenny assured him. "Everything is fine. We won't be much longer."

"Yes sir." And he disappeared behind the closed door again.

Sister Julia came around and put a conciliatory hand on her companion's arm.

"It's alright, Sister Cornelia." She said. "No harm done. Children—back to your seats now please."

The whole group of children were standing with their mouths open and staring at the adults at the head of the classroom. Nobody moved. Then all of a sudden little Sally came running up to the front of the room and put her arms around Heyes' waist—or at least as close as she could reach. Oh dear! This was totally unexpected. Now what was he suppose to do?

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes all serious and concerned, and he looked down at her, feeling Kenny's grip on his arm tighten just a bit.

"Don't worry Mr. Heyes, we'll get you out." She said, very intently. "We'll all write to the Governor and tell him that he has to let you go!"

Heyes grinned and then he knelt down to be on eye level with her. Kenny wasn't going to let him do it at first, but then he released his grip and Heyes went down to her and stroked her auburn hair.

"Thank you darlin'." He said to her. "I know you'll do your best."

She smiled at him and then quick as a wink she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then she turned and ran back to her chair, looking very pleased with herself at having accomplished her mission. Heyes felt his throat tighten just a bit, but he swallowed it down and straightened up again and then smiled over at Sister Julia.

"Oh Joshua, thank you for coming." She said to him and quickly came in and gave him a hug before Kenny could say anything about it. "I hope you'll come back."

"I will if it's permitted." Heyes promised.

Then they both turned and looked at Kenny. The guard shrugged defensively.

"We'll see." He said. "It's up to the Warden. But thank you Sisters. I think we should probably be heading back now."

This set off a chorus of disclaimers from the assembly.

"Aw no! Do you have to?"

"Can't you stay just a while longer?"

"You can't go yet!"

"Settle down children!" Sister Cornelia insisted and was just about to tap the desk with the yard stick again when she thought better of it and just raised her hand instead. "Settle down please. I'm sure Mr. Heyes will come back again."

Good manners did prevail although there was a certain amount of grumbling to be heard from various undisclosed locations around the room. Heyes smiled at the group.

"Thank you for inviting me to come visit with you." He said to them. "And I will come back again if I'm able." Then he flashed his dimples as a thought struck him. "Perhaps next time Kid Curry and come as well!"

This suggestion was met with a loud chorus of approval and they were all up and talking at once again much to the dismay of the two Sisters who were trying to keep order in the classroom.

"Oh! Kid Curry! That would be great!"

"You mean we could talk to both of you!?"

"Wow! Maybe he'll show us his fast draw!"

"Can we ask him to come? Where is he?"

"Well I'm sure friendly Officer Reece here would be more than happy to ask the Kid if he'd like to join us."

Heyes sent a smile back over to Kenny as the flood of youthful enthusiasm changed course and washed over that official in total expectation of an answer right then and there. The look Kenny flashed at Heyes said it all; 'You bastard…..'! But fortunately Kenny and Heyes were both saved from further high energy inquiries by the Sisters finally taking back control.

"Children, children! Calm down, please!" Sister Julia insisted. "I'm sure Officer Reece will do what he can to arrange that, but in the mean time why don't you display your good manners and thank these gentlemen for their time and bid them a good day."

The group became complacent again and everyone settled into their seats one more time.

"Thank you Mr. Heyes." Came the all in one recital. "Thank you Officer Reece."

Heyes was grinning; this was fun. "Goodbye young ladies and gentlemen." He said. "I hope to see you all again soon." Then he turned to the two ladies. "Sisters. Thank you."

"Joshua."

"Mr. Heyes."

Kenny nodded his farewell and then with just the slightest of pressures on Heyes' arm, he led the inmate back over to the door and then out into the hallway. Pearson stood up to meet them, quickly putting down and hopefully hiding his cup of tea.

"Everything go okay?" He asked. "It was sounding kinda wild in there at times."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "I suppose it went okay. But you pushed it a couple of times in there Heyes. Now what the hell am I suppose to say to Jed next time he comes calling?"

Heyes grinned.

"I believe that was a direct question, Convict!"

"OH!" Heyes was taken by surprise. "Ahhh, don't worry about. I'll mention it to him. I'm sure he'll be real pleased to help out."

"Uh huh." Was Kenny's skeptical response. "Then I'll have two of ya' to worry about. Great!"

Just then Sister Julia joined them again in order to escort them back to the main foyer and to return Heyes' tunic and toque which he had inadvertently left on the desk

"Gentlemen, again thank you so much." She emphasized. "You have no idea how much this means to them. They'll be talking about this for weeks. And you can be sure that the Governor is going to be getting a stack of letters on his desk soon!"

"You're welcome Sister." Kenny said. "I'm glad it worked out."

"Sister." Heyes inquired. "Will I be seeing you at the infirmary again next week?"

"I expect so Joshua, yes." She assured him. "The weather is getting better now so I'm not having as much difficulty getting over there." Then she smiled. "Hopefully Thaddeus will be coming to visit you again soon."

"I certainly hope so." Heyes commented while Kenny busied himself strapping the belt around the inmate's waist again. "I do miss our visits."

"Alright Heyes." Kenny got his attention. "Give me your hands."

"Oh yeah."

Then the cuffs were snapped back into place and the small group headed towards the front entrance. As is so often the case, what had begun as something Heyes had decided he wasn't going to enjoy, ended up being a highlight of his time at the Territorial prison. He would always remember that first visit to the orphanage with pleasure and a sense of accomplishment; if he could stop just one young person from making the same mistakes he had then the visit had been more than just a 'fun' day out!

The ride back to the prison was quiet on the most part. Heyes didn't even turn to watch the goings on of the town as they passed through it again—his mind was on other things. His talk with the orphans had definitely reasserted old emotions and past regrets and he couldn't help but be contemplative of them during the chilly journey back 'home'.

Kenny sat across from the inmate and watched him, knowing that Heyes was too deep into his own thoughts to even be aware of the scrutiny. Some of Heyes' answers and comments had surprised the guard and in a way, pleased him. Somehow Heyes had locked into Kenny's personal life and motivations and had been able to rise above his own situation to appreciate why Kenny Reece was doing what he did.

Again, Kenny had to marvel at the intelligence of the man—the intuitiveness. That he was able, even under these most dire of circumstances to look beyond the surface and see the true motivation. Then, probably due to the hardships of his own childhood he could see the sacrifices being made for the benefit of family and the worthiness of those sacrifices.

It was almost as though Heyes had a better understanding of Kenny then Kenny had of Heyes, and it made the guard realize that he needed to be paying more attention to the inmate. It almost made Kenny angry; not at Heyes, but at Carson and now Thompson. They were two men who had a certain amount of intelligence, but who seemed to be utterly missing the whole picture.

Carson was not an idiot, but he always had that need to squash any indication of intelligence or charisma in an inmate. He had to dominate, degrade and ultimately destroy the stronger personality and unfortunately the prison system was a conveniently legal outlet for that obsession. Now, there was Thompson. A much younger and weaker version of Carson, but moving quickly along the same track—naturally the two of them would be drawn together.

Kenny sighed to himself, feeling frustrated at his attempts to counter the negative effects of the abusive treatment handed out by his superior. Heyes had actually realized something that Kenny was only now becoming aware of himself. That Kenny was becoming disappointed in his job. He had enjoyed it at first—felt that he was doing something worthwhile; that he could be there to offer some support to the inmates, and life wasn't all bully clubs and harsh orders. That once they found their footing that they could make a place for themselves at the prison, learn something worthwhile and then move on.

But lately Kenny felt like he was fighting a loosing battle. Carson was getting worse in his abusive manner and Warden Mitchell didn't seem to care or think that there was anything wrong with that. As long as the prison ran smoothly that's all that mattered. Indeed, as Heyes had surmised; Kenny was sticking it out at a job that was no longer satisfying because he had a family to care for. He had three sons who were growing fast and who would be looking for an education. Indeed, his eldest, Joseph was already back east and in college, with the other two expecting the same opportunities.

Kenny already worried about how he was going to afford it all. Even his youngest, little Evelyn was making noises about furthering her own education. Use to be a girl was a safe bet to simply get married and provide grandchildren, but things were changing. Slowly but surely, more girls were wanting more from life than that and Eve was definitely one of them.

Kenny sighed again, not knowing where the money for all this was going to come from. Then he came back from his own musings to find that the tables had been turned and the inmate was scrutinizing him. Heyes instantly dropped his gaze and then looked out the back window just to give himself something else to focus on. Kenny smiled.

"You did good today Heyes." Reece assured him.

Heyes just nodded.

"Do you want to go back again?"

"Yessir, Mr. Reece." Heyes admitted. "If it can be arranged."

Kenny nodded, surprised at the twinge of disappointed he felt. In the classroom Heyes had relaxed a little bit and had even been teasing the guard, just a touch—but having fun with it. Now he was back to the old protocol and it was painfully obvious how he was subjugating his own personality in order to avoid punishment. Kenny might be one of the 'good guards' but he was still a guard, and rules had to be followed.

"I'll let the Warden know that it went well." Kenny conceded. "And perhaps we can set up another visit."

Heyes smiled and then met the guard's eyes for the briefest of an instant and dropped his gaze again. The rest of the trip back to the prison passed in silence.

Jed Curry rode down the lane towards the ranch house on his way back from town where he had been visiting with David and his new family. He smiled as Karma came up and trotted heavily along the fence line, happy to see her friend returning to keep her company. The two equine buddies nickered at each other, but time for visiting would have to come later.

Jed kept ole' Buck trotting forward and entered the yard to see Belle over by her vegetable garden, cleaning up the weeds to get it ready for spring planting. Jay was all bundled up in warm clothing and was sitting in the dirt and playing with some sticks and stones. Only he knew what the full intent of his game was and he seemed pretty focused on it. That was, of course until he spied his 'Unc'a Tad'us' come riding into the yard. Then, with a wild screech of delight, the toddler maneuvered himself to his feet and came at a fast waddle towards his friend.

Belle looked up from her weed pulling to watch the exchange between her son and his favorite uncle and couldn't help but smile at the relationship that had developed between the two of them.

"Hey there little man!" Jed greeted him as Jay came up to his horse and Jed pulled Buck to a halt so as not to step on the little fella.

At this point, Jay promptly wrapped his arms around Buck's near foreleg and looked up with eyes filled with admiration for the man on the horse. Buck tensed and started to blow a little at this object that had attached itself to his leg. He'd had to deal with miniature humans before, and though he was usually very patient with them, they still tended to cause him some distress as he never quite knew what they were going to do.

He stood stock still, but swung his head around and down in order to nuzzle in amongst the blond hair of the little creature and maybe get an idea of what it was up to.

Jed laughed and gave the big gelding a reassuring pat on the neck. Then he reached down and grabbing Jay by the suspenders on his pants pulled him up among shrieks of laughter to sit on his lap at the front of the saddle. Buck continued to stand still, but his head was up and his ears back, not so sure that he wanted this noisy little thing sitting on him.

"Gid up!" Jay ordered and started to swing his legs in an imitation of kicking a horse.

"Hey! Don't you talk to Buck like that." Jed admonished him teasingly. "Buck's a good ole' boy—show him some respect."

"Gid up!" Jay ordered again and laughed.

Jed smiled and leaning forward just a touch, he pressed his lower leg against Buck's side and the patient horse moved out at a walk. Jay sat there, all smiles and holding onto the saddle horn.

"Fast!"

"Ya' wanna go faster?"

"Yea! Fast!"

"Okay, but Buck can go pretty fast ya' know." Jed cautioned him. "He used to be able to keep up with trains and outrun posses, so you better hang on!"

Then Jed touched the gelding with his heel and soon they were into a trot and moving around the yard to the accompaniment of laughter and demands to go faster. Buck tucked his head and shook it, not so sure he was appreciating his second passenger, but still trying to make the best of the situation. Karma watched placidity from her pasture; her only concern being when was her friend going to be turned out to keep her company. Or better yet; when was she going to be brought in for supper?

After about ten minutes of this new entertainment, Belle got up from her gardening and began brushing the dirt off her clothes and hands.

"Come on Jay." She called out. "Time for you to get cleaned up for supper!"

"Aww—no!"

Jed smiled as he brought Buck back down to a walk and then turned him towards the mother.

"You best listen to your Ma." Jed told the youngster. "Besides, Buck has already had a busy day and he's getting tired."

"Aww."

Jed pulled up in front of Belle and hoisting Jay out of the saddle, he swung him over and handed him down to his mother's waiting arms. Belle took him and settled him onto the ground, but held onto him long enough for him to get his balance and then straightened up with a groan.

"Oh my, he's getting heavy!" She complained. "I'm getting too old for this."

Jed smiled as he dismounted.

"I thought children were supposed to keep ya' young." He commented.

"Ha!" Belle laughed and waved an admonishing finger at him. "Just you wait—your time is coming!"

"Uh huh."

"Are you going to visit Joshua soon?" She asked him, all teasing aside.

"Yup." Jed answered. "I thought I'd head over there this weekend if that's alright with Jesse."

"Oh I'm sure it will be." Belle assured him. "He knows you've been itching to see him and make sure he's alright."

"Yup." Jed repeated. "I want to see what Kenny has to say about our plans as well, and just how far he will be willing to go along with them. A lot of this is going to hinge on the support from both him and Dr. Morin."

"Yes, I know." Belle agreed. "I just hope we won't need to push it that far. It would be so nice to have Joshua here for Bridget's wedding."

"Yeah. Well, we'll see." Jed didn't sound too optimistic.

Belle smiled and put a hand on his arm.

"I know." She said. "Well, help Sam get the horses settled in for the evening and then come on in for supper. Beth should have it ready here pretty soon."

"Yes ma'am."

The weekend was upon them and though the temperatures were still chilly, and patches of snow still covered the ground, it was gradually melting away. The roads and rail lines were all clear and the risk of blizzards had certainly become very low to totally unlikely. Heyes was anticipating a visit from his cousin. For one thing he couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he discovered that he had been volunteered to put in a visit at the orphanage! But when Jed hadn't shown up as expected, the anticipation turned to disappointment and then to some degree; a touch of worry.

It was odd he thought; that there had been no sign of him, since the last letter he had written had suggested an impatience on his own part to get out for a visit. Oh well, something may have come up, Heyes consoled himself, and he hadn't been able to get away from the ranch. He hoped everything was alright and then tried to settle in to read his afternoon away.

Then on Monday, after supper when Heyes returned to his cell with his customary cup of coffee, he spotted a telegram lying on his cot. Hmm, what was this about? Picking it up he read the short message;

_KR. Tell HH next week. JC._

Oh, okay. Obviously there had been a delay of some sort and that Kid would be coming out to see him the following weekend. Well that was fine, and he was appreciative of the fact that his friend had thought to let him know. Now all he had to do was get through yet another mundane week without getting into any trouble.

The following Saturday, Jed Curry walked into the foyer of the prison and headed over to the reception counter to check in and go through the usual body search. He was looking strained—not at all like a man who was anticipating a happy re-union with his partner and it was obvious that something was on his mind.

He handed his holster and coat over to the guard and tried to smile politely when asked the usual questions. You'd think by now they would know who he was and who he was coming to see. This was all beyond getting old.

"Alright Mr. Curry." The guard announced once the search had been completed. "If you would just take a seat for a few minutes. Officer Reece wants to talk to you before you go in for your visit."

"Hmmm, yeah okay." Came the Kid's non-committal response. Indeed, the fact that Kenny wanted to speak with him was hardly a surprise. Probably wanted to know what his intentions were.

Jed went over to the alcove and sat down to wait. About fifteen minutes later Kenny put in an appearance and joining the ex-outlaw, sat down opposite him and the two men contemplated each other for a moment. Finally Kenny sighed and asked the inevitable question.

"So—are you planning on telling him?"

"Yeah. I think I should." Jed responded.

Kenny looked disappointed. "You sure?" He asked, even though he knew that Jed was probably right. "It's just that he has been doing so well all winter and news like this could be all it takes to send him spiraling down again."

Jed nodded sadly, looking down at his hands for a moment.

"Yeah, I know." He conceded. "But he's gonna find out about it sooner or later, you know that. I think it best if he hears it from me first."

"Yeah, true enough." Kenny agreed, but he didn't look any happier about it than Jed did.

"I'm surprised that Officer Carson hasn't already told him." Jed commented. "This is exactly the kind of news I expect he would love to throw in Heyes' face."

"Hmmm." Came Kenny's response. "I think the Warden has told Mr. Carson to lay off of Heyes for awhile. Too many outsiders paying too close attention to what goes on here."

"Oh." Curry nodded. "Well, at least that's one good thing. For now anyways; I hope it doesn't blow up in our faces later."

"Time will tell." Said Kenny. Then he took a deep breath and the two men stood up. "I'll keep an eye on him over the next few days, try and stop him from doing anything stupid."

Jed smiled and nodded. "Yeah, okay Kenny, thank you."

"Alright. In the mean time we need to discuss that 'other thing'." Kenny pointed out. "You're going to be in town tonight aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'll be at the hotel and catch the train in the morning."

"Well why don't you come over for supper tonight?" Kenny invited him. "I have to admit the kid's would love to meet you and it would also give us a chance to talk with more privacy."

"Oh." Jed was taken by surprise. "Well, if it's alright with your wife…"

"I already asked her." Kenny admitted and then smiled. "Apparently she would like to meet you too."

"Okay." Jed accepted with a nod. "That'd be nice."

"Good." Kenny said. "Around 7:00 would be fine. You can ask Officer Dale over there for the directions when you're done here. I have a feeling we're going to have a lot to talk about."

The two men parted company and Kenny went to carry on with his duties. Officer Dale motioned to the Kid that Heyes was ready to see him now so Jed headed over to the door to the visiting room. He stopped there for a moment, his hand on the knob, feeling like he just didn't want to do this, but knowing that he had to. Then he took a deep breath, opened the door and went in.

Heyes was sitting at his usual place on the other side of the table, and a huge grin spread across his face when he saw his cousin step into the room. But by the time Jed had sat down himself, Heyes' smile was gone and a look of concern crept across his features.

"Kid?" He asked, suddenly very worried. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Heyes, I….." But then Jed's throat tightened up on him and he had to clench his jaw to keep the emotion from rising up and taking control. He looked away from his cousin's worried eyes, suddenly unable to meet them.

"Aww Kid, now you're scarin' me!" Heyes admitted a slight tremor in his voice. "Just spit it out—just tell me, will ya'?"

Jed took a deep breath and told himself; yeah, just spit it out—just say it! He forced himself to raise his eyes and look directly over at his cousin. He swallowed and then just spit it out.

"Heyes, I'm sorry. Devil's Hole is gone."

To Be Continued.


	24. Chapter 24

THE END OF THE HOLE

Jed Curry sat on the train, his body moving slightly with the swaying motion as the passenger car clattering along the tracks. He just sat quietly with his arms folded and his head leaning back against the headrest and looking out at the passing landscape. It was a cold and gray day with some white patches of snow still to be seen scattered here and there, but on the most part the bare wet ground was dominating the territory and the hope, at least, of warm spring days to come was in everyone's mind.

There weren't too many other passengers on board this time as it was still a little chilly for unnecessary travel and most families were waiting until a trip would be more pleasant. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxed, with very little conversation amongst the occupants, the majority of them reading a newspaper or, like Jed, simply staring out the windows at the passing landscape.

Of course Jed wasn't really seeing the landscape go by him. He had been along this route so many times now that it really didn't hold any interest for him. No, his mind was on other things, things miles away and into the future. He wondered how Kenny was going to respond to the letter he had written to Heyes at Christmas which had included that little aside to the guard concerning their plans. Would Kenny be willing to help? Would Dr. Morin? It was asking a lot and Jed knew that; it could be putting their very livelihoods at risk and good government jobs were not that easy to come by.

Beth had wanted to come with her friend on this visit, but Jed didn't think that this trip was a good one for that type of get together. This was almost like more of a business trip—a gathering of information and a testing of the waters. And aside from that, Belle had been right in the surmise that Jed would want his first visit with his cousin after the winter hiatus to be private—just two friends reconnecting. Of course a guard would be there as well, but they were used to that by now and generally ignored his presence. Not much they could do about it anyways.

Beth could come next time, Jed promised her, after they had a better idea of how things stood. Who knows? Maybe after their meeting with Governor Moonlight Heyes would have his pardon and there would be no need for Beth to come out to the prison again at all. Somehow Jed felt skeptical about that though, like that would be too easy and it just wasn't Heyes' fate to have things come easily.

Then Jed became aware of a disturbance in the atmosphere of the passenger car and he dragged himself back from his inner thoughts to re-assess his surroundings. His first awareness of something different was the nervous countenance of some of the other male passengers; the second indication was the presence of a very large man making his way down the isle in Curry's direction.

Geesh! That guy's big! And Jed found himself mimicking the reactions of the other passengers in his attempt to avoid eye contact with the man and thereby, hopefully avoid notice. Then Curry groaned to himself as the mountain stopped beside his seat and then—oh no!—actually slid in between his seat and the next, then sat down facing the Kid and was apparently expecting some kind of response.

Jed saw nothing else for it, and in order to avoid being rude and thereby possibly angering his new companion, he put on a smile and acknowledged the man. Then his jaw dropped in surprise as he realized that he actually recognized him and then suddenly he wasn't such a threat after all.

"Deputy Shoemacher!" Jed greeted him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing Mr. Curry." Came back the quiet, unassuming response. "Didn't really expect to see you back in Wyoming."

"Well, I'm just on my way to see Heyes in Laramie." Kid informed him. "I haven't seen him all winter so this is the first chance I've had. Sheriff Trevors knows about it, so…is there a problem?"

"Nope." Mike answered. "Just so long as that's the only reason you're on this train."

"Ahhh, yup." Kid assured him, thinking that this was a rather odd conversation. Then he smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little. "How is Rick Layton doing? I haven't heard anything about him for over a year now."

"He's fine." Mike informed him. "He doesn't do work for Morrison anymore—not since, well—you two. He used his share of the reward money to upgrade his ranch and then he went and took himself another wife. A young widow who came with a whole parcel of ready made young-uns so Rick's got his hands full now."

Jed smiled. "Yeah, I guess he does. Glad to hear things are working out for him."

"Yup." Mike agreed. "Alright." He continued as he used his bear paw sized hands to push himself to his feet. "My advice to you Mr. Curry is to keep your head down and stay outta trouble."

"Ahhh, yeah." Jed answered him with furrowed brow. "I'll certainly try to do that, Deputy."

"Oh, and when ya' see Heyes, tell 'em 'no hard feelings'."

"Sure! Ahhh, yeah I'll do that."

Then the big deputy turned and walked back the way he came, leaving in his wake a number of very relieved gentlemen who had—thank goodness!—avoided his attention.

Jed sat back and folded his arms, a very perplexed expression on his face. What in the world was that all about? But before he could spend too much time pondering this question he began to feel the train slowing down and then heard the engineer up front leaning on the whistle for all he was worth. Jed sat up and looked out the window and a dreadful feeling of déjà vu swept over him.

For sure and wouldn't ya' know it! They were in very familiar territory and as the brakes on the locomotive shrieked painfully in their efforts to stop the train, Kid groaned and sat back in his seat. They were getting robbed—dagnabbit! No wonder people were getting fed up with all the robberies along this route! Jed was getting fed up with it and he used to be one of the fellas doing all the robbing!

He sat up straighter still as the train finally came to a halt and then peered out the window in hopes of catching sight of the men who were pulling the heist. Chances were good that it was his old gang, since this was their territory and he had to admit that curiosity and the opportunity to see the fellas again was tugging pretty hard at him.

Then he heard rifles being cocked and activity going on around him in the car and he looked over to see a number of the other men who had been sitting quietly and minding their own business were suddenly on their feet and ready for action. Some of the others were just as confused as Kid was and were looking around, wondering what was going on. But there were enough others who had rifles that were conveniently ready for use and suddenly he felt his blood turn to ice water in his veins.

Was this a set up? Was this a trap? Deputy Shoemacher coming back to talk to him, finding out—why was Mr. Curry on this particular train? Well why was Deputy Shoemacher on this particular train? And then an even worse thought hit Kid right between the eyes! Was Morrison on this train? OH CRAP! He had to get out! He had to warn his old gang!

Jed was just about to his feet when the whole train car exploded with the reports from numerous Winchester rifles discharging at once. Suddenly glass was everywhere and the air was filled with smoke and Kid, along with the other non-combatants were instantly on the floor and covering their heads. Then all hell broke loose!

Armed men took up positions on both sides of the car, ducking down beneath the shattered windows and firing at will at any target that presented itself. Bullets were crashing into the car as well, sending more glass flying into the air, and chipping away at the wooden interior causing lethal missiles to shoot out and embed themselves into anything that got in their way.

Jed was on the floor between the seats, knowing that it was too late to give warning, too late to help any of his friends out there in no man's land! He rolled himself into a ball, covering his head with his arms as the world exploded around him! He could feel the glass and wood splinters hitting him and thanked goodness for his thick sheep skin coat and he wouldn't feel the glass and wood embedding themselves in his hands until later!

Right then all he knew was chaos with the acrid smell of gun powder burning his nostrils and the wild yells of men, both inside the car and outside, caught up in the adrenaline rush of battle. Jeez! How long could this go on for?! How many of his friends were dying out there? And here he was lying on the floor, unable to move, unable to help! Even in the shock of this assault he knew that if he pulled his gun and started shooting the ambushers, he'd be dead in seconds! Oh God! If Morrison was behind this, those fellas out there didn't stand a chance!

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity though it was only about ten minutes, the shooting began to ease off. The yelling of men and screaming of dying horses quieted and the armed men in the car began to stand up from behind their cover and breathe a collective sigh of relief. Then the adrenaline rush hit again and there were yells of exuberance and laughing and cheering and victorious back slapping.

"WOO WHOOO!"

"YEAH! We got 'em boys! We got 'em!"

"Finally! The Devil's Hole Gang! WHOOPIE!"

"OHH BOY! Did ya' see them two stragglers make a run for it? They're gonna fly straight back to their hide out—and won't they be in for a surprise then! Damn, now I kinda wish I could be part of that posse that's gonna run 'em to ground and them outlaws find out they got nowhere ta' go!"

"Hey, c'mon now Henry! You can't have all the fun! Let them fellas have their share! Besides, we got most of 'em right here! YAHOO! This is gonna be some payday!"

Jed didn't move, he felt paralyzed with fear over the fate of his old gang. He was shaking with his own adrenaline rush but he couldn't move. He remained rolled in a ball with his bloodied hands covering his head and prayed that this wasn't actually happening. This couldn't be happening! Then he felt hands grab him by his coat and drag him out from between the seats. He was hauled to his feet, his legs still shaking and he had to grab hold of the back of a seat in order to stay standing.

Jed looked at the faces around him and—oh jeez!—could this day get any worse? Morrison was standing there, sneering at him.

"Well look here, boys!" The Sheriff gloated. "We caught ourselves the biggest fish of them all! Too bad we gotta throw 'em back." Then Morrison grabbed him by his coat collar and started dragging him towards the exit. "Ya' might as well be of some use Curry—you can help us identify the corpses!"

Wheat, Preacher and Lobo sat their horses just inside the copse of trees waiting with gleeful anticipation as the train of their choice plied on the brakes and started coming to a halt before hitting the barrier of fallen logs. Hamilton and Charlie had done a good job of setting up the barricade so that any engineer worth his salt would know that to try and run it would risk derailing his locomotive. Yeah, Wheat's boys were real good at their jobs.

Word had gotten to them that this particular train would be carrying a large payroll to make up for the ones that hadn't made it through during the winter months. It should be a real good haul, and the gang needed it too after the lean winter they had put in. Time to get the money flowing again and this payroll was just the ticket.

Everyone knew their jobs and everything was going like clockwork! The train screeched to a halt and Wheat gave the signal for the outlaws to break cover and make the charge! He knew Kyle would be on the other side of the train with his trusty stash of dynamite all set to blow that safe and then the gang would be in tall cotton again! With his regular boys and the new hires the gang was fifteen strong and even with the five that were left to guard the Hole there were enough men here to take this train, easy. And they wanted it!

Everybody put their horses into a full gallop and came at the train, whooping and hollering and firing their guns into the air to intimidate any of the more adventurous passengers. This was their day—this was their train!

Then all of a sudden, rifle fire began streaking out at them from the windows of the two passenger cars and the tables had been turned.

Before any of them could comprehend what was happening Lobo's horse went down in a heap. There was no scream of pain, no thrashing of hooves—one second it was galloping full speed ahead and the next it was a crumpled mass of blood and shattered bone plowing into the ground. Lobo flew over its head, hitting the dirt hard and sending a spray of it up into the air as he did a flailing somersault to land heavy, face up and motionless.

Wheat tried to pull his horse up but the animal was spooked now and ignored the bit hauling on its mouth. It saw the motionless form of its stable mate suddenly loom up in front of him but still had the presence of mind to lift up and jump over the obstacle rather than plow right into it. But then its forelegs came down hard right on top of Lobo, breaking his right arm and shoulder and crushing the right side of his rib cage before it carried on running, frantic to get away from the hot gashes that the rifle bullets were leaving in its flanks!

Wheat finally got the animal's head turned to the left, forcing it to slow down and follow the direction its nose was being pulled in. Then the gang leader was shooting for real now, aiming at the windows of the cars, hoping by chance that he would actually hit something since there was nothing to be seen except for rifle fire coming at them!

Preacher was back where Lobo had fallen. He'd dismounted from his horse and was using Lobo's dead animal for cover and shooting back at the train even though, like Wheat he couldn't see anything to actually shoot at! They were into it now, no turning back, no time to get to cover! Bullets were everywhere; the air reeked of gun smoke!

Preacher's horse shrieked and went down, the innocent victim caught between fire, legs thrashing and kicking wildly against its death agony. Even with its lungs punctured it tried to get to its feet when another volley of bullets blew apart its skull and mercifully put it out of its misery.

Charlie and Hamilton came galloping back from the head of the train, shooting and yelling to beat the band. One would wonder why they didn't just hightail it outta there, but they couldn't believe that it had been a set up! Surely it was just a few of the passengers getting uppity! They'd had that happen before and all it took was a little show of force and the insurgents would go limping back to their seats and behave themselves. By the time the outlaws realized that this was more than just a minor resistance it was too late and they were into it.

Charlie had his rifle up and was shooting it at the train while at a full gallop, but that didn't save him. The fire from the train changed its focus from Wheat and Preacher over to the two new comers and Charlie took a full onslaught to the chest and fell without a sound.

Hamilton tried to pull up and turn tail but his horse was in a panic and finding it's all out gallop being hindered it lunged into the air and then started to buck. Hamilton fought to bring the animal back under control but the horse was so frantic that it fought back against it's rider all the more until it lost it's footing and went over in a shower of billowing dust and flailing hooves.

Panicking even more now that it was down, the horse began to kick wildly, frantically trying to get back onto its feet. It finally got half way up but then its forelegs got tangled up in the reins and it went down again, this time landing on top of Hamilton and pushing the horn of the saddle into his shoulder, breaking the outlaws collar bone. Hamilton was trying desperately to get away from the thrashing animal but luck just wasn't with him this day. The horse rolled over again, kicking out with its hind legs, trying to get into position so that it could heave itself back up onto its feet. The hooves lashed out like a pile driver, striking the outlaw in the head, caving in his skull and breaking his neck.

Finally and only then did the animal scramble to its feet and then take off in a panicked gallop to join up with its stable mates. By this time Wheat'd had enough! He allowed the two loose horses to come up to his and then reaching down, he grabbed the reins of Charlie's animal and somehow managed to strong-arm the small herd over to where Preacher was still taking pot shots at anything he could.

But even Preacher knew when it was time to call it quits and as Wheat and the horses came close to him, he abandoned his hiding place, made a grab for Charlie's horse and swung himself aboard. Then the two men and three horses made a bee line for the same copse of trees where all of this had started from and prayed that none of the bullets being fired after them would find their mark.

On the other side of the train, Kyle and four of the relatively new gang members didn't even have a chance to reach the baggage car. They had been waiting at a discreet distance for the train to be secured before Kyle would move in with his dynamite to blow the safe and collect their pay. Then the first sounds of gunfire caught their attention just in time for the youngest member, a lad by the name of Les Howard to take a full rifle barrage in the chest!

Both his and Kyle's horses reared in fright and Howard fell to the ground and choked out his life's blood before ever knowing the thrill of being a real-life, honest to goodness outlaw. Running away from home hadn't been such a good idea after all.

The next volley of gun fire took out two more of the outlaws in one go. Black Henry Smith took a direct hit to the head and his horse took off at a gallop with the lifeless body eerily staying upright in the saddle for a good thirty feet. The torso swayed and the arms flailed unnaturally until it finally over balanced and tumbled to the ground. The horse kicked at it and then galloped on, heading for home!

In the same instant ole' Dan, who was new to the gang, but an old hand at outlawin' all the same, had begun to think that he was invincible until he met his maker that day. The law got him with a vengeance to make up for previous lost opportunities and he fell to the ground with a bullet through his throat, two in his left lung and the last going right through his left eye.

Kyle knew when it was time to skedaddle. He pulled his horse around and put it into a very willing gallop back towards cover when he felt himself get punched in the shoulder. He knew he had been hit, but he hung on and kicked his horse for more speed. Then suddenly there was no horse under him anymore and he was airborne and he could see the ground coming at him at a terrific speed. He hit hard, plowing into the dirt and tasting the grit in his mouth, mixing with his chewing tobacco and then the air and his chewing tobacco were forced out of him as he did a flip and came crashing down on his back. He lost consciousness to lie in a limp and bleeding heap not far from the body of his dead horse.

The final member of that group, George Carmon had booted his own horse into a gallop the instant Howard had gone down! He took off in the opposite direction from the one Kyle ultimately chose and headed towards the front of the train. Once he came level with the engine he turned his horse to gallop away at an angle towards the bend in the tracks and disappeared around it. He never did return to Devil's Hole which turned out to be a very wise—or very lucky choice on his part because it meant that he could go on living a while longer to rob and steal another day.

Back in the copse of trees, Wheat and Preacher were finally able to bring their stressed horses to a halt and they turned around to quickly survey their situation. All five were breathing heavily and shaking and all five were bleeding from more than one close call. They stopped and peered through the trees back at the train, mainly to see if any others from the gang had made it out, if any more were coming. But all they saw was a mess of strewn bodies of horses and men, and none of them were moving.

Then men were coming out of the passenger cars, men with rifles and tin stars now pinned to their vests that glittered in the sunlight. Wheat cursed. Then he suddenly caught his breath and he and Preacher exchanged looks.

"No." Preacher mumbled. "It can't be."

"Yeah, it can't be." Wheat snarled. "But it is! I'd recognize that sheep skin coat anywhere!"

"You know that blessed boy wouldn't turn on us!" Preacher insisted. "You know he wouldn't!"

"All I know is what I'm seein'!" Wheat insisted. "And what I'm seein' is a yella bellied traitor!"

"No, Wheat…!"

Then Wheat caught his breath again and grabbing Preacher's arm he gestured towards the second boxcar. The doors had just slid open and a ramp was being pulled out until the one end of it landed on the ground. Then horses were being led out and some of the men from the second passenger car mounted up on them and began to check over their firearms. Wheat and Preacher exchanged looks again.

"You got any ammunition left Preacher?"

"As the Lord is my witness, I do not."

"Time to leave!" Wheat ordered needlessly. "You better pray to that God of yours that these horses still have enough left in 'em to get us back to the Hole!"

"Amen!"

Devil's Hole. Mid morning. The majority of the gang members had ridden out about an hour ago to go tackle their first train of the season. Everyone was relieved that winter had finally broken its hold over the outlaw hideout as even with rationing, the food supplies for both men and horses was starting to run thin. There had even been some contemplation of killing off the last few chickens in order to tie everyone over, but then there would be no eggs until the chickens could be replaced and eggs seemed to be the mainstay these days.

So they'd made do with omelets and oatmeal and the horses ate straw just so they could at least feel like their bellies were full, and they made it through to the spring. When word of the over-sized payroll came through everyone was jubilant in anticipation of a good score and there-in lay the main difference between Heyes and Wheat.

For one thing Heyes would never have allowed the gang to head into winter without enough stores and money to see them all through. Even if there hadn't been much in the way of jobs to do, Heyes was just too good a poker player and he would have made sure there was enough for everyone. Also, he would have been very suspicious of such a good haul coming through right when they needed it the most. He would have done his research and made sure it was legit before sending his men into the fray—and he wouldn't have cared how hungry they were—he would have been more careful!

But Wheat was a hothead and he sure wasn't the thinker or the poker player that Heyes was and as far as he was concerned, this train was pay dirt. This train was gonna get them on their feet again. This train was gonna change everything.

The morning of the big day dawned cold and damp, but nobody cared about that, everyone woke up in good spirits and boisterous moods. The coffee tasted real good that morning and even the oatmeal was palatable, this was gonna be a good day! Even the fellas who would be staying behind were excited. Of course, everyone wanted to be part of the heist, but there always had to be somebody staying behind to watch over The Hole so it was an accepted reality and just part of being a member of a gang.

There were five men left behind that day. Tom and Chuck who were brothers and had joined up with the gang about two years ago had drawn the look-out duty. Actually Chuck had drawn the duty and Tom had volunteered to be the second since the two of them preferred to stick together and that suited everyone else just fine. Curly Red Johnston, who had come up from the Red Sash Gang along with Black Henry Smith was a little ticked at having to stay behind. He was still recovering from a bad bout of the flu but despite his disappointment, had to admit that he was still not up to the physical exertions that a train heist would demand. So he accepted his lot and settled in at the Hole for a day of rest and anticipation.

Most the of the morning he spent playing cards with Benny who's horse had fallen on him and he'd broken his collar bone, so he was out of the heist. And then there was Roger who had joined up with his buddy Les but Wheat didn't want to have more than one young greenhorn on the same job at the same time, so the two had drawn straws and Les had won. Wheat assured a disappointed Roger that he could join them on the next job. So the three men, or should we say, the two men and the boy played cards to help pass the time until the job was done and the celebrating could begin.

It couldn't have been too much past noon when the quiet day suddenly took a turn for the worse. A loud dynamite blast from somewhere back of the Hole rent the air and shook the buildings, causing dust and dirt and spiders to fall from the ceiling to land in their coffee cups and amongst their game. The dishes rattled and the wood stove shook and the three fellas sitting in the bunk house all stared at each other for a beat of time and then they were suddenly on the move, grabbing gun belts and rifles as they made a run out to the yard!

At first there was nothin' to see and then three sets of eyes watched as another stick of dynamite came sailing through the air to land on the roof of the recently vacated bunkhouse. The three outlaws made a run for cover, their arms over their heads to protect themselves and just as they made it behind the outhouse another explosion shook the ground. Planks of splintered wood went flying in every direction and then the bunkhouse trembled for a moment before what was left of the roof collapsed in upon itself

Inside the structure the table and chairs had been strewn aside and broken apart by the blast and the falling debris. The wood stove had been knocked over, its contents scattering across the floor. Within seconds the burning embers settled in among wood splinters and ratty carpeting and the entire wooden structure was very quickly engulfed in flames and falling apart.

The three men behind the outhouse were trying to get themselves organized under short notice. They split up, each one choosing a new hiding place and with shaking hands and racing hearts, waited and watched to see what was going to happen next! This couldn't be happening! Devil's Hole was supposed to be impregnable—nobody could get in without the lookouts seeing them!

But somebody had gotten in, and now they were coming! The outlaws heard the thundering of the horses' hooves before they could see anybody—it sounded like an army and they were coming fast, yelling and shooting their guns. Then another explosion as more dynamite hit the barn and that structure went down among a shower of wood and straw and bedding material. The straw inside the barn ignited instantly and then that building along with the bunkhouse was quickly engulfed in flames and burning to the ground.

The horses in the paddock were panicking, their screams filling the air as they ran circles around inside their enclosure, frantically looking for a way out and away from the flames. Finally, in their mindless panic, one animal got pushed into the railing of the fence and its weight caused the wood to splinter and come apart. The other horses, seeing an opening all charged for it at once, knocking the first animal to the ground and trampling over it in their haste to get away. More railings were pushed down and broken as the horses galloped through, leaving the fallen horse thrashing and bellowing where it lay, desperately wanting to join his stable mates, but for some reason, unable to get up and away from the flames.

Then the posse came galloping through the smoke and dust and found themselves being assaulted by three of the half-wild mangy curs who had decided to make the Devil's Hole their home. They didn't appreciate these intruders charging in and upsetting everything and were doing their best in the way of growling and yapping to let it be known. Unfortunately their efforts were for not, and men and horses weren't the only ones to die that day.

Ignoring the yapping and soon to be expired dogs, the posse had instantly split up with three or four riders heading off in different directions in order to cause confusion, and to lay waste to the remaining structures standing in the yard. Three of the lawmen also made a bee line, following the panicked horses down the main trail leading to the lookout post—Tom and Chuck were about to have company!

Meanwhile, Curly Red had made the mistake of running into the barn as his place of concealment and was instantly knocked to the floor when the dynamite did its damage. He didn't even have time to scream when the burning roof caved in on top of him and mercifully broke his back and bashed in his skull before he could actually burn to death.

Benny did marginally better. He had ducked in behind the chicken coop and despite his broken collar bone had been able to put his six shooter to good use. With the structure itself and the confusion of flapping, fluttering hens and feathers creating decent cover, Benny had laid in a blanket of fire and had brought down one of the posse men and two of their horses before he found himself surrounded and done for. He wasn't about to give up though—prison wasn't for him, so even though he knew he didn't stand a chance, he kept firing at his assailants. He hit one of them in the leg and knocked another one out with a bullet clipping the man's temple before his guns were empty and he had no time to reload.

Then he pulled a knife from his boot and with a snarl of defiance he lunged at the closest rider, leaping up and grabbing hold of him, causing both men and the horse to over balance and topple into the ground. Before the dust had even begun to settle Benny plunged his knife into the man's torso and felt the blade slide in between his ribs but the lawman still had enough wits about him to box the outlaw on the ears and then push the man away from him.

Both horse and rider had scrambled themselves into the clear and then three rifles discharged at once and Benny took all three hits to the chest and he fell back into the dust, choking up blood and trying to keep breathing with three punctures to his lungs. Two men had dismounted to tend to their wounded comrades and to stop the bleeding caused by Benny's knife thrust, but nobody bothered to tend to the fallen outlaw. Not that he could have been saved anyway.

So Benny was left lying in the dust, gasping out his last breaths while the blood from his injuries seeped out from the exit wounds in his back and spread in a deep dark pool as it slowly soaked into the dirt. It was better this way, he thought as the calmness and euphoria of death washed over him—so much better than what had happened to Heyes! Who'd want that? No…this was so much better…

Roger meantime had made his desperate run for the leader's cabin. He was young—no more than fifteen and he and his best buddy Les had thought that this was going to be a great big adventure. Yeah, join up with the Devil's Hole Gang and have the time of their lives! But now Roger was running for his life and he was scared to death. He wasn't thinking about where he was going he was just looking for cover and he ran to wherever his legs took him.

He charged up the steps and through the front door, looking around him in a panic. His breath was coming in gasps as sobs of terror were taking him over and he started running again, bashing through another door and finding himself in one of the bedrooms. He grabbed the quilt off of the bed and for some reason that he didn't understand, or even stop to question; he wrapped the quilt around him and then backed himself into the far corner of the room, facing the door.

His whole body was trembling and his teeth chattered in fear as his legs gave way beneath him and he sank to the floor. There he sat, with his knees drawn up and the quilt pulled tightly around him, praying to God for salvation and waiting for the end to come.

Outside, four of the posse members spied the lad running for the cabin and decided to go in after him rather than simply burning him out. He hadn't fired a shot in their direction and he looked no more than a terrified teenager so they thought they'd give him a chance. Even at that though, they entered the cabin cautiously and with guns at the ready—even a teenager can fight back when cornered and nobody wanted to take a bullet for their kindness.

Within minutes the lawmen had spied the trembling quilt in the corner of the bedroom and had made a unified run at it. The quilt was ripped aside and then a screaming Roger was hauled to his feet and unceremoniously pushed face down onto the bed. His hands were roughly pulled backed and cuffed behind him and as he lay there shaking he was thoroughly searched and what weapons he had on him were instantly confiscated. He was then hauled to his feet again and manhandled out into the main room of the cabin and then shoved into a chair by the table and told to stay there.

Two of the men remained to guard the prisoner while the other two went back outside to help with the assessment and clean up whatever was left of this nest of rats that had been allowed to continue on being pests of the territory for far too long. Roger was beginning to calm down just a bit as he slowly came to realize that he was still alive and was more than likely to remain that way—just don't do anything stupid, he told himself, thinking that all he really wanted to do now was go home.

Keeping their eyes peeled in the direction of the out of sight railroad tracks, Tom and Chuck waited expectantly for the gang's return. They should have hit that train by now and be heading back towards the Hole where they could all get their shares divvied out and then start making plans for a grand night on the town! As long as Wheat didn't hold everybody back a day or two to let things calm down. Damn! That would be irritating! A fun night in Carbondale would just about suit everybody right about now!

Then they heard the explosion. The brothers locked eyes and neither of them made a move for a good thirty seconds—probably because they were each waiting for the other one to take charge and decide what they should do. Then finally Tom, who was after all the oldest figured that he better call the shots and make a decision.

"Ahhh, maybe you better ride back up to the yard and see what that was."

"I know what that was!" Chuck insisted. "Why don't you ride up and see?"

"Cause I'm the oldest, and I'm sayin'!" Tom insisted. "Besides it's probably just Roger playin' with Kyle's dynamite. I mean, nobody can get into the Hole without us seein' em!"

"Well why don't we both go see then?"

"Cause one us has gotta stay here and keep watch!"

"But what if…?"

And then another loud explosion coming from the yard drowned out Chuck's continued protesting and again both brothers stopped talking and stared at each other with opened mouths. Then they could hear the distant rifle fire coming from the same direction and that got them really nervous.

"What the hell is goin' on up there?" Came Chuck's anxious query. "I don't like the sound of that at all!"

"We should get up there and take a look." Tom suggested, though he didn't sound very enthusiastic about that idea. "You know—just to make sure everything's alright."

"I donno." Chuck considered the options with eyes wide with a growing fear. "I think we should just high tail it outta here."

A third explosion rent the air and they could hear the distant neighing of terrified horses and even more gun fire. Chuck got to his feet and was making to run down to their own horses that were tethered in the little grove behind them. But Tom jumped up and grabbed him, stopping him in his tracks.

"We can't abandon our post! Wheat's trustin' us!" Tom pointed out, all indignant at the idea of running.

"Yeah and what if Wheat ain't comin' back!?" Chuck reasoned. "I don't like this, not one little bit!"

And then Chuck started to fight against his brother with the full intention of getting his horse and getting outta there! The battle went on for a precious five minutes with both brothers, as usual determined to have their way, then they both stopped the struggle with each other and looked up the trail leading to the hideout. They could hear horses coming towards them at a full gallop and then getting outta there became a mute point when their own horses, already nervous from the explosions, began to panic. They pulled back on their tether lines and started to buck and fight against the restraints until the lines broke and they were free.

Just then the herd of loose horses from the paddock came barreling around the corner and barely even acknowledged the two men running down the small incline in a futile attempt to grab their own horses before they took off. The two saddled horses were having none of it and they jumped away from the men and joining up with their stable mates the whole herd galloped on past and headed down hill towards open country.

"Dammit!" Tom yelled, throwing his hat on the ground. "What are we gonna do now!?"

Then a rifle shot cracked, the sound coming from the distant grove of trees in the direction from whence the loose horses had come. Before Tom could get an answer from his brother, Chuck's eyes flew wide open in surprise as his head jerked to the side and blood splattered out from the sudden gaping hole in his head. Chuck dropped to the ground like a sack of flour, the look of disbelief still on what was left of his face.

Tom screamed in rage and pulled his six-shooter while spinning around towards the direction of the shot but he never got a chance to pull the trigger. More rifle shots came at him and he took two direct hits to his chest, one to his right arm and one right in the middle of his forehead. He dropped down to lay sprawled beside his brother, their life's blood pouring out of their open wounds to mingle darkly together before pooling and then sinking down into the damp cold ground.

The small group of men then emerged from the trees and loped their horses over to the fallen men, their rifles out and ready just in case either of them was still alive and kicking. As they got closer though it became apparent that caution at this point was unnecessary and the four men returned the rifles to their scabbards and dismounted. One of the men had two scabbards, one on each side of his saddle, and having returned the Winchester to its resting place he then took hold of the other and pulled a Sharpe's repeating rifle out from its place and set about readying it for use.

Meanwhile the other three kicked over the two corpses so that they were both lying on their backs in the hopes that they could maybe identify them. Hmmm, kind of a hard call on that one. Oh well. Then they looped ropes around their ankles and two of the fellas remounted their horses and headed back up towards the Hole, dragging the two dead outlaws along behind them.

The two remaining men tethered their own horses in an out of the way spot, grabbed their Winchesters again and headed up the small incline to settle themselves down at the look out station. They'd wait there all afternoon if needs be, waiting just in case any of the gang made it out of the ambush at the train and tried to make it back to the 'safety' of the Devil's Hole.

Wheat and Preacher were riding as though the very hounds of hell were on their trail, whipping and spurring those poor horses into giving all they had to get them back safely to the Hole—or die trying! Hamilton's horse was still galloping along with the others, and though he was tired as well he didn't have the extra weight of a person on his back so he was doing better than they were, besides, he wanted to get home too.

The two men barely spoke to each other, focusing more on the ground ahead of them to avoid pit falls, and occasionally sending nervous glances behind them to check on the progress of the posse. They knew that the pursuers were there and on fresh horses too, so why couldn't the outlaws see them? Why were they holding back? They must know that if their quarry made it to their sanctuary the race would be over, the outlaws would be safe. No one has ever been able to force their way into the Hole, it's just never been done! So what was going on? It was almost as though the posse was letting them get away.

This situation was more nerve wracking than having the posse right on their tail and shooting at them! It didn't make sense and the closer the two men got to Devil's Hole the more anxious they became. Then two things happened almost simultaneously that caused the outlaws to pull up short and reconsider their options.

They were still a couple of miles away from the approach to their hideout when they came galloping up a hill and round a corner and almost plowed full force into a group of loose horses that had been stopped there to graze. That was odd in itself, but then the fact that two of them were fully tacked up made it more than just odd; it made it scary.

All the horses reacted to the sudden intrusion, the loose ones dancing about with heads and tails up and blowing their displeasure. The two men were just getting their horses pulled about and headed in the right direction when they both froze and then felt real fear tingling down their spines. Black smoke was billowing up into the air right above where they knew the buildings of their hideout were located!

"What the hell?!" Wheat swore.

The two men exchanged worried looks and then realizing that the Hole was no longer safe they turned their tired horses away from the access trail and taking the chance, because they had no other choice, they galloped them out across open country. They hoped they could reach that other grove of trees before that posse put in an appearance and then get onto the less known tracks that were hidden in amongst those gulleys' and then hopefully get their pursuers off their trail.

All the horses joined up then and went for a race, but the gamble they took did not pay off and the race was destined to be short lived. They didn't hear the rifle shot over the thundering sound of hooves pounding into dirt, but they both saw Hamilton's horse stumble and then go down in a tangle of flailing legs and an explosion of dirt. The loose horse coming up right behind it could not stop or maneuver out of the way in time and plowed right into the mass at full gallop, causing it to do a complete full somersault through the air before crashing down heavily onto its back.

That was all the outlaws saw of that wreck as they galloped onwards and then Wheat felt a shock wave go through his own mount when the animal took a hit in the shoulder. The horse grunted and then crumpled into the ground, rolling over onto its side it began kicking violently in its fear and anguish and futile attempts to regain its feet. Wheat was thrown clear and then scrambled to get out of the animal's range, nearly getting trampled by the other loose horses coming up from behind.

Preacher spun around and galloped back to his leader. The two men locked arms and Wheat was hauled up behind Preacher's saddle and they were off and running again. Then bullets were striking the ground in front of the horses' feet causing the animals to put on the brakes and pivot to get away from their invisible attackers. They were headed back towards Devil's Hole, but there was nothing they could do about it—the posse was on to them, pushing them in the direction they wanted the outlaws to go.

Preacher knew that his horse could not keep up the fast pace while carrying two men and he was doing his best to maneuver them into position alongside one of the loose but saddled horses so that Wheat could transfer over. A dangerous move to make while at full gallop, but neither of them saw another choice—all stoppers were out and they were going for broke!

They actually got into position and Preacher was able to reach out and grab hold of the loose horse's bridle and though that horse laid its ears back and tried to kick at them, Wheat made the jump and with a frantic grab for the saddle horn was actually able to stay on! At that point Preacher hauled his horse's head around and again angled it away from the direction of the hideout. But by this time they were in range of the look out station and even above the sound of thundering hooves and the wind in their ears, they could hear the boom of the Sharpe's rifle letting fly!

Preacher's horse went down this time, the heavy bullet going right through Preacher's leg, shattering the bone and then carrying on through the horse's ribcage and blowing apart its lungs. The horse went down in a heap, like a lead weight with an anchor attached to it and Preacher hit the dirt and rolled clear and then tried to stand up. Wheat was attempting to get back to him, to return the previous favour, but the Sharpe's spoke again and Preacher's body jerked as the bullet zinged through his upper chest. He collapsed down beside his horse and lay where he fell.

Wheat cursed again and hauling his horse around he spurred it back up to a gallop and raced across the open ground, making for the trees Suddenly he found himself with the advantage for a change; he was riding a relatively fresh horse and he knew the lay of the land like the back of his proverbial hand. He knew that the posse was closing the gap between them and could feel the wiz of bullets flying passed his ears. He also suspected that whoever was wielding that Sharpe's rifle would be making a run at him from his other side, hoping to cut the outlaw off and prevent his escape. But Wheat knew he was going to make it—if he could just get to those trees before another lucky shot took either him or his horse down.

He wished that the last of the loose horses would stop following him as they were making it pretty hard for him to disappear into the woodlands. The tracks they were all leaving and the noise they were making would keep the posse right on his trail until they ran him into the ground. If he'd still had ammunition for his revolver, or a rifle with this saddle he would shoot the horses in order to be rid of them, but he had neither so he just had to keep going with the herd in tow.

He finally made the trees and pushed his horse along a steep and narrow trail that he knew led down into a gully, from there he could back track and find the head of another well hidden trail that would take him across a narrow creek and then into a dark valley. Now that particular valley had a real narrow entrance and to anyone who didn't really know the land it would appear to simply be a dent in the rocks with a grown over trail leading to a dead-end. But Wheat knew better and as the sound of pursuit fell further and further behind he made for that narrow valley and the only chance he had left to get out of this alive.

The gloaming was settling in over the landscape by the time Wheat finally felt that he had covered his trail enough that the posse would not be able to track him further that night. He trotted his horse through the narrow creek, up the far bank and then led his small herd towards the narrow valley entrance.

That night, inside his hidden valley Wheat finally felt safe enough to stop for a few hours rest. He didn't dare make a fire, but he untacked the two horses that had been wearing saddles and turning them loose to graze, he used the underside of the saddles as a seat and a backrest and then wrapped himself up in the two saddle blankets. He was hungry and exhausted, but at least he was warm. And it wasn't raining—thank goodness!

Sitting there all bundled up he assessed his situation. He had no food, no rifle and no ammunition for his revolver, nor did he have any money to purchase any of the above items. Devil's Hole was no longer a safe hold out and he had no idea how many, if any of his gang were still at liberty or even alive for that matter. He had four horses with him and two saddles so he could sell most of them—he only needed one horse and one saddle after all. But he would need money, for sure, and a place to hole up for awhile and wait for things to settle down.

Then he needed a plan. His eyes hardened and his jaw tightened as anger once again took over his thoughts. Damn that Curry! That bloody no good, back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch! I'm gonna kill that bastard. I don't know how, but somehow I'll find a way. I'm gonna get him for this if it's the last thing I do!

Jed was still reeling from shock when Morrison grabbed him by the coat and hauled him off the train. He couldn't believe what was going on around him—this was just insane! He felt totally abandoned, like a cat suddenly thrown in among a pack of wolves and the wolves were all grinning over the thrill of the kill. Even the other non-combatants were joining in on the good spirits since once they had realized what was going on, they were all for it. About time somebody did something about those damn outlaws!

Kid's nerves were so on edge that he jumped and quickly looked around as the baggage car door slid open noisily and the wooden ramp was pulled out and dropped to the ground. He groaned at the sight of the horses being led out and a select group of men mounting up and getting prepared to chase down the fugitives.

Kid had no idea who was down and who had gotten away. All he heard was that two of the outlaws had made a dash for the woods and were probably headed back to Devil's Hole. He was also able to pick up from the joshin' and jokin' that that plan of action was a good thing for the lawmen, but not such a good thing for the outlaws. What had happened? No assault against the Hole had ever been successful so why were these men so cocky in their belief of success this time?

Kid just stood leaning against the side of the passenger car, shaking his head—until the bodies started to show up and then he felt like he was going to be sick. Morrison came over to him and grabbing him by the arm started hauling him over to where the men were depositing the dead and wounded.

"C'mon Curry, this oughta be easy for ya'." Morrison chided him. "I know most of these fellas, but a second opinion is always welcome."

Kid hated every minute of this, but he forced himself to look. He needed to know as well so he could tell Heyes—Ohhh, Heyes. This was going to be hard news for him. They may have stopped running with the gang years ago, but Heyes still thought of them all as friends, and well—his gang. This was gonna be hard news. Kid went over to the first bloody mess that was dragged over and he looked into the dead face.

"Ahhh, jeez. That's Charlie." Curry told the Sheriff.

"Charlie Hadden?"

"Yeah."

"What about this one?"

"I don't know him."

One of the local deputies who was standing behind his boss stepped forward then and took a look at the dead outlaw.

"I think that's Hamilton." He informed Morrison. "Kinda hard to tell with his face all crushed in like that, but it sorta looks like it could be him. He used to be over Arizona way, but I heard that he joined up with the Devil's Hole some time back."

Curry's brow creased as he took in that name.

"Matt Hamilton?" He asked the deputy.

"Yeah, that's it." The deputy confirmed.

"Ya' know 'em now Curry?" Morrison pushed him.

"No, I don't." Curry still insisted. "But Heyes would know him."

They carried on then to another body that was broken and covered in blood and again Curry felt like he was going to be sick as he looked down into a familiar face.

"Oh, I know him." The Sheriff smirked. "That's Maurice Lobinskie."

Curry frowned. Maurice Lobinskie? No, that's…oh—Lobo! Funny, Kid had never thought about the fact that Lobo would actually have a legitimate name. Of course it made sense; what mother would call her son 'Lobo'? But then, what mother would call her son 'Maurice?' No wonder the man was so mean. That was almost as bad as 'Hannibal'!

"Yeah, but he's still alive." Mike informed the group.

Kid perked up. "He's what?"

"Yup, believe it or not." Mike confirmed. "He's broke up pretty bad, but he's still breathin'. Remains to be seen if he makes it to town though."

Then the group was distracted by the commotion caused by more bodies being dragged through the train from the other side. More bloody, broken masses for the Kid to identify. Oh what a God awful day this had turned out to be and then a thought suddenly occurred to him and he breathed a truly heartfelt sigh of relief; Thank goodness Beth hadn't come with him on this trip. If this day coulda been made worse—that would have done it!

"Oh, jeez. That's ahhh, what's his name." Kid was struggling with this one. He knew the man, but not really well as he hadn't run with the Devil's Hole during Heyes and Curry's time. "OH! Ah, Black Henry Smith." The name finally clicked. "But what was he doin' up here? He usually ran with the Red Sash Gang."

"That gang broke up about six months ago." Mike informed the Kid. "I heard that Smith and Curly Red Johnston came this way—I guess this confirms it. Don't know where Ed Starr went though, probably up into Montana."

Kid nodded, and then somewhat unexpectedly found himself looking into the fresh, youthful face of Les Howard and he groaned with sadness and disappointment, shaking his head in regret. He knelt down beside the slim body and laid a hand on the bloodied shoulder.

"You know 'em?" Morrison asked.

"No." Jed admitted. "But he's just a kid—a boy! Dammit! What was Wheat thinkin' letting a youngster like this join the gang?"

"What does it matter?" Morrison commented. "He's dead now. What about this one over here?"

Kid stood up and followed the Sheriff over to the last body. It was a real mess, having been hit a number of times and Kid had a hard time getting a good look at the face. All he could really tell was that it was an older man and Kid didn't think he knew him.

"Oh that's old Dan Willoughby!" One of the older deputies announced with a laugh. "Man, you just never know what fish you're gonna catch when ya' throw the net!"

"Dan Willoughby?" Morrison queried. "I thought he'd up and died years ago! What do ya' know!"

Kid felt drained. He stood quietly for a few minutes, hands in his pockets, head down trying to process all the emotions that were coming at him from every direction. The last thing he was expecting at that moment was to hear a familiar voice.

"Kid?"

Jed swung around and found himself looking into the bright blue eyes of Kyle Murtry. But the expression coming through the blood on the outlaw's face was not one of pleasant surprise, but more of disbelief and then anger.

"What did ya' do, Kid?" Kyle asked him through his physical pain and emotional disillusionment. "What did ya' do to us?"

"What? Kyle…." Kid was taken aback by the accusation in the other man's tone and expression. "I didn't do nothin' Kyle."

"But what you doin' here then?" Kyle asked him still barely able to believe his own eyes. "You set us up?"

"NO! Kyle, I would never….I was just…."

But then a deputy grabbed hold of Kyle's uninjured arm and half dragged, half pulled the wounded and dazed outlaw over towards the baggage car. He would be spending the trip into Murreyville in the company of the corpses and of Lobo, who might very well be a corpse by the time they'd bother getting him to a doctor.

Kid started to go after him, to try and explain that he being on this train was just a coincidence and that he'd known nothing about this, but Morrison grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Get back on board, Curry." The Sheriff told him.

"Look, how about if I ride the rest of the way in the baggage car?" Curry asked. "I need to talk to him."

"No." Morrison denied that request. "I want you where I can see ya'. Besides, we got one more stop to make before getting into town and I might just be needing your expert opinion again." Morrison was actually looking pleased at Kid's discomfort and he smiled. "That's the problem with switchin' sides Curry; ya' can't help but make enemies outa old friends. Better get used to it."

Curry was of a mind to protest this dictate, but then he felt the presence of a number of deputies standing around him, just waiting for him to put up a fight. He thought better of it and with a quick glance of regret back towards the baggage car he pulled himself up onto the landing of the passenger car and went inside.

It wasn't long after everyone got settled into their seats that the engineer sounded the whistle and train began moving again. Curry sat alone and just stared out the window trying to come to terms with this strange and tragic day. What had once been a relaxing and familiar landscape was now a battle scene dotted with dead horses. The animals had been striped of their tack since those items that were salvageable could be sold to help pay for the new prisoners' upkeep. The horses themselves were just left laying out there, waiting patiently for the scavengers to come round and do the cleaning up. It's an ill wind indeed that doesn't bring good to something.

Twenty minutes later the train began to slow down again and was gradually coming to a full stop. Kid was not in any hurry to get up because he knew what was coming and he was dreading whose body he might be having to identify next. But then the other passengers in the car started moving over to the one side of the train to stare out the windows and they began laughing and making celebratory comments once again.

Oh no, Kid thought to himself; anything that these fellas could be that pleased about could not bode well for him and a part of him didn't want to look at what all the excitement was about. But then curiosity got the better of him and he stood up and glanced out the windows along with everyone else. Sure enough, what everyone else on board was laughing and cheering about brought a knot to Kid's stomach and a tightness to his throat.

Black smoke, bellowing clouds of it rising up into the air above where he knew the outlaw hideout was located. Devil's Hole was burning. His home for, how many years? It was going up in that black bellowing smoke and then it hit Kid as surely as though it were a slap in his face; he was witnessing the end of an era. He was witnessing the closing of yet another chapter in his life, once and for all and forever more. It'd been a long time since he had felt this much alone.

As the train eventually came to a stop, Curry could see more horsemen approaching the locomotive from the direction of the burning hideout. He sighed with disappointment; a number of the riders were leading horses that were loaded down with motionless burdens that could only be more dead bodies. The only bright side to this group is that there was at least one uninjured outlaw who was being brought in in handcuffs instead of a body bag.

Curry straightened up and followed the other men outside in order to meet up with the new arrivals. There was no getting out of it, so may as well just get it over with.

There were whoops and hollers and sounds of great merriment from the two groups of men as they met up alongside the train. Curry stood back from the celebration, definitely feeling like the odd man out until he glanced over at the youth sitting on the horse with his hands cuffed behind him and looking very forlorn indeed.

Curry sauntered over to him and placed a placating hand on his leg to get his attention. The lad looked down at him with worried eyes. Curry sighed to himself; this youngster was no older than the boy who's body was wrapped up in a tarp and lying inside the baggage car.

"What's your name Son?" Curry asked him gently.

"Roger Cartless, sir." The lad answered back.

"How old are ya'?"

"Fifteen, sir."

Curry shook his head, anger rising up in him again at Wheat allowing such young boys to join the gang. Heyes would never have done such a thing.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" Curry mumbled, addressing the comment to the absent Wheat, but young Roger thought that Kid was asking him.

"Me and my best buddy, Les." Roger explained. "We thought it would be an adventure. Join up with a real outlaw gang, you know. We thought it would be fun. Do you know where he is sir? Les? He went with the gang to help on this job."

"Curry!" Morrison called him. "Get over here!"

Kid glanced over at the Sheriff, almost wishing he didn't have his amnesty so that he wouldn't be disappointing anyone by pulling his gun then and there and shooting the lawman through the head. As it was, he just nodded.

"Curry?" Roger asked a slightly awed ting to his tone. "You're Kid Curry?"

"Yeah." Curry answered absently, almost regretfully. Then he looked back up at the boy with sincere sadness in his expression. "I'm sorry Roger, but you're friend's dead. These men killed 'em."

"No." Roger denied the truth of it. Then his face broke apart and he started to cry. "No! He can't be! This was supposed to be fun!"

"Yeah." Curry sighed sadly. He gave Roger another consolatory pat on the knee and then turned and went back to the group now standing around the prone figures that had been laid out on the ground.

Curry looked down at the two brothers, Tom and Chuck and shook his head.

"I don't know them." He said listlessly. "They must have joined up after Heyes and I left."

Then he went over to another body and again shook his head. "No, don't know 'em."

"That's Ben Jensen." Piped up one of the lawmen. "He used to ride for the 'Widow Creek' gang, until it got broke up. I guess he came north and joined up here. Bad luck for him."

Kid took in that information without so much as a nod of acknowledgment. It was like he just wasn't feeling anything anymore. His nerves were so frazzled over who would be the next body he'd recognize, who would be the next friend he would identify, that he was burned out on emotion. Or so he thought.

He was walked over to the next body and the blanket was flipped back from the dead face and Curry's heart broke.

"Aww, no." He moaned and he dropped down to his knees beside his dead friend.

Morrison smiled, knowing they'd hit pay dirt. Curry gently touched the face of the dead man and then clutched at the bloodied shirt, his breath was raged as, jaws clenched, he fought the sobs that were threatening to burst through the tightening of his throat. He pulled the man into an embrace, feeling the hot tears attacking his eyes and beginning to fall and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

"Aww, no." He mumbled again. "Preacher. Not Preacher. He usually winters down in New Mexico! What the hell was he doin' here?"

"I tell ya' Sheriff." Deputy Jack Strode commented. "That new marksman you hired is even better than Layton. Jorgensen musta been close to a mile away when he made that shot and it couldn't 'a been a cleaner hit. Blew apart his heart right on the first try."

"Yeah." Morrison agreed, with a self-satisfied smile. "Getting' 'The Preacher' is definitely an added bonus. The reward on that assassin alone will be more than all the rest of these low-lives's put together. That bastard! Goin' around quotin' scripture but ain't above hiring out to kill for money." The Sheriff snorted derisively. "What a hypocrite! Probably better that he's dead; saves the territory paying good money to have 'em hanged!"

Curry laid the body back down again and covered the face with the blanket, and then he just knelt there, staring down at it and getting his emotions back under control. Crying in front of lawmen! That wasn't the right thing to do at all! Get it together, he reprimanded himself. Grieve for these friends later, when you're alone—or with Heyes. Ohhh, this was gonna be hard on Heyes. Everybody liked The Preacher.

"Where's Carlson?" Morrison asked, looking around. "I don't see his body anywhere here. Don't tell me we missed 'em!?"

"There's still two unaccounted for." Jack told him. "One up at the hideout got buried under a burning building so we haven't dug him out yet. And Preacher was with someone who unfortunately got away from the trap. Hogan and his group are runnin' him down now."

"Well, I doubt that Carlson would have stayed up at the Hole while a robbery was going on." Morrison surmised. "He must be the one making a run for it. Dammit! Why can't anything go smoothly!? The deal with the Governor was that we get every last low-life, thieving one of them! Carlson may not be the leader that Heyes was, but he was still the leader, so Hogan damn well better get 'em!"

This outburst was met by silence from the group of men milling about. Everybody had been feeling pretty good about the way things had turned out, but the reprimand from their boss sorta put a damper on things. Obviously nothing short of perfect was going to be acceptable.

Kid glanced up from his own mourning as a still sobbing Roger was dragged past him to be incarcerated inside the baggage car alongside of Kyle, and alongside the bodies of all his compatriots, including that of his best buddy, Les. Kid sadly shook his head, all of this, for what? The only one in this group who was really worth anything was Preacher, but even at that once the rewards were divvied up between all these men it would hardly have been worth their while. So why bother? Kid just couldn't understand it.

"Okay!" Morrison announced. "Let's get these bodies loaded up! And you fellas—get these horses back into that second baggage car! C'mon! Let's get moving! C'mon Curry!" He said as he grabbed Kid by the back of his coat and hauled him to his feet. "You've said your 'goodbyes', so get onboard!"

The rest of the trip in to Morrison's home town of Murreyville was completed in painful silence for the ex-outlaw. Everybody else around him was chatting away in quiet comradery, pleased with a dangerous job well executed. Even the other non-combatants who, like the Kid had been aboard this particular train by mere coincidence were joining in on the light hearted celebration.

The train had stopped in Laramie, but Kid did not disembark as was initially intended and stayed aboard, despite the discomfort of being in the company of these men. He couldn't go see Heyes right now, just couldn't go see him with news half complete, with the story unfinished. He was staying on, until the train took him to Porterville and he could have a talk with their 'old friend' Sheriff Lom Trevors.

It was late evening by the time the train stopped at the posse's destination and everyone working for Morrison disembarked to help unload bodies and horses, and to get the two prisoners over to the jailhouse. Kid tried to get over to Kyle, to talk to him, to tell his friend that he hadn't been a part of this, but Morrison wouldn't let Curry get near the prisoners.

He saw a disheveled Kyle look at him with a very hurt expression on his face and Kid shook his head at him, trying desperately to get the message across. But Kyle just looked away and then he was gone, out of the lightened platform of the train depot and into the darkness of the street, heading over to the jail.

Then Lobo was being hauled out of the baggage car and was carried over to the doctor's office. Kid sighed a little bit in relief; at least Lobo was still alive—for now anyways, and Lobo was tough, if anybody could pull through something like this, he could. Kid found himself wondering where Wheat was and hoping that the outlaw was still on the loose and, if he was smart, heading for parts unknown. Hopefully he wouldn't try something stupid; like breaking Kyle out of jail! Not with Morrison in charge; Wheat would only succeed in getting himself killed.

Then the train whistled in preparation of pulling out of the station and Curry knew he had better get on board or be left behind. The last place he wanted to be stranded was here! He was just about to turn and climb back aboard when he caught Morrison's eye and the Sheriff smiled at him and then he nodded and tipped his hat to the ex-outlaw. Curry's jaw tightened and his right hand that had developed a mind of its own, was trying oh so hard to go for his gun. But Curry controlled it and with tight lips, and a burning in his heart he ignored the Sheriff's jibe and climbed onboard the departing train.

Needless to say, Jed Curry did not sleep a wink that night. Usually, as we know, Curry does not have trouble sleeping, even on a moving, rocking passenger train; but this night was not usual, and sleep did not come. Every time he closed his eyes, all he would hear was gunfire and screaming horses and yelling men; all he'd see was blood, and bellowing black smoke and Preacher's dead face lying there in the dirt. And a young boy crying; 'He can't be dead! This was just supposed to be fun!'

So Kid sat, his head leaning against the back rest of the seat and wrapped up warmly in his sheep skin coat. He stared out the window seeing only darkness and his own reflection and just as Heyes had done almost two years ago, he reflected on his life and how he'd come to all of this. And he felt, now more than ever that he was just as much a prisoner of his past mistakes as his partner was a prisoner in his cell. Only goodness knew if either one of them would ever be free again.

The following morning dawned gray and chilly just like the day before and Kid didn't feel at all like getting out of his warm cocoon in order to go get a cup of coffee. But caffeine was calling to him so eventually, as other passengers on board were slowly rousing themselves and heading to the dining car, Curry gave in and did the same.

Most of the talk going on around Curry was about the excitement of the previous day. The passengers who had been on the train for the event were all quite happy to describe everything in great detail to the passengers who were new arrivals. Curry tried to ignore it as he sipped his coffee and did his best to eat a plateful of scrambled eggs and ham, but he couldn't help but notice the occasional comment made in his direction and eyes looking at him curiously. If there was anyone in the dining car who hadn't known who Curry was, well they knew it now.

Finally, at about 10:30 in the morning, the train pulled into Porterville and Curry was able to disembark and get away from the curious looks and whispered comments of his fellow passengers. He might not be an outlaw anymore, but apparently he was still a celebrity of sorts—still someone worth gossiping about. He sighed dismally; was that ever going to go away?

The walk along the boardwalk from the train depot to the Sheriff's office was completed in a daze. Curry was exhausted, emotionally and physically—he was worn out. But he had to talk to Lom, had to find out what the hell was going on. He walked into the office to find Deputy Harker Wilkins and Sheriff Lom Trevors deep in discussion over their routine for the day. Both lawmen looked up at the sound of the door opening and then a heavy silence ensued when they both recognized their visitor.

Curry just stood at the door, holding onto the knob and stared at his friend with what could be described as an accusing look to his eye. His exhaustion was apparent. Lom broke the standoff, and with a sigh he looked to his big deputy.

"You best go make the rounds without me this time Harker." He told him. "Kid and me got some things to discuss."

"Oh well! If that's what you think best, Sheriff." Harker agreed, though you could tell he wasn't too comfortable about leaving the sheriff alone with this crafty outlaw. "I'll just go do the rounds on my own then."

Nobody moved. Harker and Jed stared at each other.

"Off you go then Harker!" Trevors reminded him.

Harker jumped. "Oh, Yessir Sheriff. I'll just ah…just go do the rounds then…ha!"

The big deputy made his way over to the exit and Jed wisely stepped out of his way to give him room to pass. Then Jed closed the door and continued to stand in the threshold looking sadly over at the lawman.

"C'mon Kid." Lom offered as he moved over to his desk. "Sit down and have some coffee."

"No" Came the cold reply.

Lom looked up, taking note of the tone in Kid's voice and wondered fleetingly if he'd have enough time to grab the rifle lying on his desk if the ex-outlaw decided to turn mean. Then he relaxed and tried to have some faith in the level of the other man's common sense. He was hurting, confused and maybe even angry, but he wasn't lethal—that much Lom was sure of.

"Don't tell me you were on that train." Lom stated by way of opening up conversation.

"Did you know about this?" Kid asked him, ignoring the obvious question.

Lom regretfully nodded. "Yeah, I knew about it."

"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!?"

"That's right Kid, I didn't tell ya'."

Kid's temper had taken hold and he came at the Sheriff in an angry charge! Lom used all of his self-control to not back off or to make a grab for the rifle, knowing that either action would only ignite the anger even more.

"WHY NOT!?" Kid yelled at him as he came up to the desk. "THOSE WEREN'T JUST MY FRIENDS WHO GOT BUTCHERED UP THERE—SOME OF EM' WERE YOURS!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Lom asked him, forcing himself to look squarely into those icy blue daggers. "Do you really think this was easy for me? But I made my choice years ago Kid, just like you and Heyes did! Ya' can't stand on the fence forever, ya' gotta decide which side you're on!"

"You shoulda told me Lom!" Curry insisted, his anger a slow burn now. "I coulda warned them!"

"AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHY I DIDN'T TELL 'YA!" Lom yelled back, getting angry himself now in his own defense. "I knew that's exactly what you would do! Throw away everything you and Heyes worked so hard for! And for what!? Those fellas made their choices Kid, just like we did! Sometimes that's the price ya' gotta pay."

"WHY!?" Kid was back up to yelling strength. "The rewards for that whole gang won't even come close to covering the expenses of that venture! WHAT WAS THE POINT!?"

"Sit down Kid."

"NO!"

"SIT DOWN!" Lom insisted. "That was not a request!"

The two men were locked in a silent contest of wills until Kid finally sighed and relented. He knew that Lom wasn't going to tell him what it was all about unless he complied and right now, information was what he wanted more than anything. He looked around for a chair, then slid it over to the desk and grudgingly sat down.

Lom relaxed, then pulling open the top drawer of his desk he pulled out the inevitable bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He filled both and slid one over to his companion.

"Drink that."

"No."

Lom gave him a look that didn't need words to back it up. Again, it was not a request. Kid hesitated a moment then picked up the glass and downed the contents in one swig. Lom did the same and then he re-filled both glasses and put the bottle away. Both men were beginning to calm down.

Lom sat down himself then and gave a heavy sigh.

"Outlaws have had their day, Kid. This was bound to happen sooner or later, you know that." The Sheriff began. "You and Heyes saw the writing on the wall six years ago and thank goodness you got out of it while you could."

"That didn't help Heyes much did it?" The Kid snarled bitterly.

"I know." Lom conceded. "But if you'd stayed with the Devil's Hole you'd both be dead now and you know it. It was a loosing game—now more than ever."

"Why?" Kid asked him. "What's so different about 'now'?"

"I know you don't follow politics too much Kid." Lom explained. "But Wyoming is heading full steam towards statehood but that wasn't going to come about so long as the Territory was still being basically strangled by gangs of outlaws. In order to show that Wyoming had enough population, enough industry and enough maturity, to warrant statehood, Governor Moonlight had to find a way to clean up the gangs and get rid of the strong holds."

Lom paused here for a moment to let this sink in and took a sip of whiskey from his glass. Kid just stared at the desk in front of him, and basically forgot about the shot glass he was holding in his hand.

"So." Lom continued. "Moonlight had been impressed with how Morrison had handled bringing in you and Heyes and he offered the Sheriff quite a large sum of money to hire as many men as he felt he would need and gave him access to all the resources he'd want in order to bring down the Devil's Hole Gang—among others"

Kid's jaw clenched in anger. "So Morrison had a lot more at stake than just the reward money."

"That's right." Lom agreed. "The reward money on most of those fellas was just an extra tidbit compared to what Moonlight is payin' 'em to get the job done."

"That Morrison is gonna get himself shot one of these days." Curry growled. "And I just might be the one who does it!"

"Now you're talkin' stupid!" Lom admonished him. "And if I didn't know it's just cause you're hurtin' right now, I'd lock ya' up for makin' threats!"

"The guy's a bastard!" Curry insisted.

"Only cause you're lookin' at 'em from the wrong side of the fence, Kid!" Lom pointed out. "To the honest hard working citizens of this Territory, Morrison is quickly becoming a hero. He's the one who is finally getting the job done! Finally clearing out that nest of thieves who have been running rough-shod over the territory for years. People have gotten fed up with it Kid. Now maybe you and Heyes held some favour with folks cause you focused on the larger corporations and showed a bit of class when it came to dealing with the average citizen, but even so, people just aren't going to put up with it anymore."

Kid sat back in his chair, and finally remembering the shot glass he was holding, brought it up to his mouth and downed the drink again in one swig.

"But how?" Kid asked. "Devil's Hole has always been secure. How did they get in?"

Lom sat back in his chair and looked off into the middle distance for a few moments. Then he sighed and looked Kid in the eye.

"You remember Seth Flannigan?" He asked.

Kid creased his brow in thought. "Ahhh, Flannigan…the name sounds familiar, but…."

"He was up at the Hole the same time as we were." Lom explained. "When Big Jim was still runnin' things."

Kid shook his head, still at a loss to place the man.

"Young fella." Lom continued. "A little older than Heyes, but acted younger. Tall, skinny with that long stringy blond hair."

"OH!" The penny finally dropped and Kid remembered him. "Oh yeah. He was always pushin' me for a fight."

"Right." Lom agreed. "And Jim finally got tired of him pushin' his weight around and kicked him out."

"Yeah, okay." Kid agreed. "I got 'em now. What about him?"

"Well, seems he got himself into a lot of trouble down in Utah." Lom explained. "He went and killed somebody and they locked him up for life."

"Well, that don't surprise me." Kid commented dryly. "What's that got to do with Devil's Hole?"

"I'm comin' to that." Lom insisted. "It seems that he got tired of sitting in prison so he started makin' noises like 'he knew a back way into Devil's Hole' and stuff like that. The law ignored him on the most part—these guys are always talkin' big but end up with nothin' to offer. But then Morrison found out about it and he went and had a talk with ole' Mister Flannigan."

"Back way?" The Kid asked. "The only back way that I know of was that winding little track that went through the rock face. That thing wasn't even wide enough for a pack mule to get through and even at that Jim had us dynamite it so that it was blocked completely. Then—he still insisted on having a sentry on it through the dry months! So did Heyes for that matter."

"Yeah, I know." Lom admitted. "I remember pulling that duty sometimes, what a pain—eight hours of sittin' there lookin' at nothin'!"

Kid actually laughed. "Yeah!" He agreed. "You're not the only one who hated it Lom. None of us were excluded from it—worse duty you could pull! The only good thing about winter was that the snow was so deep back in there that a snowshoe rabbit couldn't get through so we didn't have to watch it!"

"Yeah, well." Lom shook his head a little regretfully. "Unfortunately Wheat got sloppy and he stopped putting sentries on that back trail even during the summer months. I guess he figured that it was blocked up solid so there was no need to keep watchin' it."

Kid groaned. "Oh no." He mumbled. "What the hell was he thinkin'?"

"He was thinkin' that he was secure." Lom commented dryly. "Then there's ole' Flannigan carrying a grudge and thinkin' that he just found his way out of a life sentence. And he was right. Morrison and Moonlight made a deal with the Governor of Utah stating that if the information Flannigan gave them led to the downfall of the Devil's Hole gang then Flannigan would receive a full pardon and be a free man.

Then, as the snows started to melt away, Morrison began sending reconnaissance up into those hills and they found that back trail and started hanging around, just to see if anyone up at the Hole would notice them. Nobody did. So, that's when they started formulating a plan. They sent out word that a large payroll was coming through on that particular train, knowing that the gang would be desperate for a good score right around now. Get the majority of the gang out of the Hole and then blow open that back trail and take it by storm. They had very little resistance."

Heavy silence settled in over the Sheriff's office. Curry didn't know whether to be angry or sad—and angry at whom? Wheat or Flannigan? Or both! Wheat for being an idiot and Flannigan for being a traitor, selling out the whole gang for the price of his freedom! Well, he'll be spending the rest of his life looking over his shoulder.

Finally Kid gave a big sigh and brought himself back to the present.

"So, the new Governor is the one behind this sneak attack?" He asked quietly, almost making it a statement. "He's the one who put up the money to hire Morrison to get it done?"

"Yeah, that's right Kid." Lom conceded, knowing exactly what the next question was going to be.

"And this is the same Governor we've got an appointment to go see in ten days with the intentions of asking him if he would please give Hannibal Heyes a pardon?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Aww Jeez!"

"Don't give up on it Kid." Lom tried to sound optimistic. "We've got a good case."

"Yeah right!" Kid shot back sarcastically. "He's gonna laugh us right outa his office—that's if we can even get into his office in the first place!"

Kid's fist came down onto Lom's desk, and then he was up on his feet and pacing, frustration written all over his countenance.

"DAMMIT!"

"Kid, calm…."

"Don't tell me to calm down Lom!" Kid snarled at him. "That's my best friend locked up in there! I promised him I'd get him out! I promised him! 'Hang on Heyes; we'll get ya' outa here, just hang on a little bit longer'! Dammit!"

Lom sighed and didn't say anything more. He could completely understand the Kid's frustration, cause he was feeling frustrated too. Heyes seemed to be adjusting better to prison life lately, but even Lom knew that he couldn't hold on forever and for what? If every hope they had kept getting squashed under their feet, what was there left to hold on for? His biggest concern now was that Kid was going to do something rash. Something he wouldn't be able to walk away from.

Gradually Kid calmed down again and with one last hand through his curls, he came and sat back down in his chair. He just stared at the desk for a few minutes, and then he came to a decision and looked Lom straight in the eye.

"I want to go up to the Hole." He announced.

"What?" Lom asked, not sure he had heard right.

"I wanna see the Hole." Kid repeated. "I gotta….I gotta see how it is."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Kid."

"Lom, I'm going up to the Hole." Kid insisted. "You can either come with me or not—but I'm goin'!"

Lom sighed and nodded, recognizing Kid's tone and hard look and knowing that there was no arguing with him at this point.

"Alright Kid." Lom agreed. "I suppose Harker can look after the town for a few days. I've got some things to look after tomorrow, so we can head up there on Tuesday. How's that?"

"Yeah, okay."

"In the mean time you can stay at my place again." Lom offered. "Give ya' a chance to rest up a bit. Ya' look like hell."

Curry nodded. He felt like hell. Then he groaned as he remembered something.

"Ohhh, Heyes."

"What about him?"

"He was expecting to see me this weekend." Kid admitted. "Ahhh, I better send him a telegram, let him know I'll be delayed a week. Jeez, our first visit since the fall and all I'll have to bring him is bad news."

"Yeah."

Two days later Lom and Curry, along with their two horses and a pack mule were heading up towards what was left of Devil's Hole. It wasn't exactly a short ride and they knew that they would be camping out for one night at least before making it to the closest approach to the hold out, but Kid felt the need to see it and so they went.

The second day on the trail they saw another group of riders coming down the side of the mountain ridge towards them. This group was leading two pack mules; one for carrying supplies and the other carrying a more grisly package. As the second group got closer to the two men they could smell the tangent odour of smoke and burnt flesh and knew that they were carrying back the body of the outlaw who had died in the barn.

The two parties stopped and acknowledged one another. Kid nodded to the one man in the group whom he recognized.

"Deputy Strode."

"Hey, Curry." Jack responded, and then nodded at the Sheriff. "Sheriff Trevors."

"Deputy." Lom greeted them. "You fellas been up at the Hole?"

"Yeah." Jack admitted looking a little regretful. "Morrison wanted us to dig out this one and bring 'em back for identification. Though if ya' ask me; it's a waste of time. He got burnt up so bad there's nothin' recognizable about 'em. Process of elimination would suggest that it's Curly Red Johnston and I would have been just as happy to leave it at that."

He swallowed, looking just a tad bit pallid at the morbid job that had been handed down to him.

"What do ya' mean 'process of elimination'?" Curry asked.

"Well, that kid, Cartless said that Ben Jensen and Curly Red Johnston were the only fellas with him at the Hole when they got hit." Jack explained. "The two Bishop brothers were on lookout and they're accounted for, so the only one who wasn't accounted for was Johnston." Here Jack shrugged his shoulders. "So, process of elimination."

Curry and Lom both nodded silently, feeling the need to show some respect to the dead man, outlaw or not.

"What's gonna happen to Cartless?" Kid finally asked.

"Nothin'." Jack admitted. "He's just a kid, hadn't broken any laws yet, except he was hangin' out with known outlaws, but that don't matter. Morrison got in touch with his folks and they're comin' ta get 'em."

Curry nodded, relieved. "Good."

"Yeah." Jack agreed. "I guess the other one, Howard, his folks are comin' up as well to claim the body and take it home for burial. It's a shame, that. A real hard lesson for Cartless and I just hope he takes it serious and doesn't go off playin' 'outlaw' again."

"I think he's had enough of the 'outlaw life'." Curry said. "He was pretty cut up over losing' his friend."

"Yup, I guess." Jack agreed. "Well, we best be gettin' on here. The sooner I can get away from this body the better I'll like it."

"Yeah, okay Deputy." Kid tipped his hat.

"We'll see ya' later, gentlemen." Lom commented.

Then Kid pulled up his horse as he remembered something.

"Oh Deputy!"

"Yeah?"

"Any sign of Carlson?"

"Nope." Jack informed him. "That outlaw done disappeared in a wisp of smoke. And Morrison's none too pleased about it either, I can tell ya'."

"Yeah, I bet." Mumbled the Kid dryly. "What about Lobo?"

"Still breathin'."

Kid nodded acknowledgement and the two groups parted company and carried on their separate ways.

Five hours later the two friends would have been able to tell that they were approaching the entrance to the Hole even if they hadn't recognized the landscape. The arid smell of wood smoke was so heavy on the breeze that even the horses tossed their heads and snorted in irritation.

Kid began to feel sick even before they entered the yard and by the time they pulled their horses up and dismounted, he was thinking that maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to come up here after all. But now that he was here he was determined to see it through, he had to know for sure that this chapter of his life was truly gone—he had to see it for himself.

What he saw was total devastation. Even after the time that had passed, smoke still lifted up from the blackened ash covered remnants of what was once a collection of sturdy buildings. Kid walked forward, looking around and trying to get his bearings; with no buildings or other structures around it was hard to know exactly where he was in the lay out.

Then he saw what was left of one of the rocking chairs that normally sat on the front porch of the leader's cabin, and then, yeah there were a couple of the posts and some of the steps that led up to the front door. That was all that was left of that structure that was recognizable—other than the solid stone cooking stove with the blackened tin coffee pot still setting on it and some of the pots and plates and utensils scattered in amongst the pile of smoking, blackened pieces of wood.

Kid stopped and stared at the debris, thinking how odd and out of place those items looked now, and then he looked again upon the blackened rocking chairs. How many times had he and Heyes sat right there on that porch, drinking coffee, or something stronger and discussing a new plan, or going over a job and thinking about how they could do it better next time. Or just sitting there, not discussing anything and smoking cigars and drinking whiskey and quietly appreciating a peaceful evening.

Those had been good times, Kid thought. He'd forgotten how good they had been until now, standing here in the middle of this destruction and reminiscing about it. He sighed and moved on. There was the barn, or what used to be the barn. The paddock fence was still standing—on the most part, though definitely blackened by fire. Some of the railings and posts had been splintered and knocked down, probably by horses trying to get out and away from the flames. What a mess.

Then there was the bunkhouse with again, the only thing left intact was the old black cast iron cooking stove, tipped over onto its side, surrounded by more of the same ash covered debris. And then, oddly enough, the outhouse which hadn't been touched by fire and still stood, keeping a solemn watch over its fallen neighbours.

Then Kid turned and saw the chicken coop and he groaned. He went back to that day, oh so many years ago when he had returned to the Hole with a box full of hens because he wanted fresh eggs for breakfast. Can't have fresh eggs without hens! Heyes had laughed; what are we gonna do with a bunch of hens!? But Kid had been determined and he set about banging and hammering and trying to put together a chicken coop.

Heyes had finally taken pity on his cousin and came over to help—just as Jed knew he would and together they had planned out and built the best chicken coop Devil's Hole had ever seen. Kid couldn't help but smile at the memory that always made him smile even when he was sad; of Heyes walkin' in amongst the chickens and spreading the grain around for them. 'Here chick, chick, chick.'! and clucking away to them just like old times. And Curry smiled.

It was so unlike the adult Heyes to be in there feedin' the chickens, and yet so much like the child Hannibal whom Jed so clearly remembered; out there in the back yard of the Heyes' homestead, feedin' the chickens. It had been like a jump back in time then, and again now. Kid furrowed his brow as he thought about it; it was two jumps back in time; him standing here now and thinking back to the outlaw leader feeding the chickens and himself then, watching him and thinking back to the child Hannibal, feeding the chickens. Ohhh, this stuff could get weird.  
Kid sighed and shaking his head he turned away from the blackened, charred chicken coop and walked further out into the open yard. Then he caught sight of the foul heap of burnt carcasses where the posse men had dragged the dead bodies of the horses, dogs and chickens that had been unfortunate enough to get caught up in the middle of this cruel slaughtering, and all of a sudden he started to retch. A slight breeze had come up, and it was enough to assault his senses full force with the strong pungent smell of burnt wood and flesh mingling together. That odour had been with them all along, but the sudden assault the wind had kicked up brought with it a rush of memories that the Kid had not expected and had been in no way prepared for. He grabbed onto the side of the outhouse and vomited.

Lom, who had been holding back and letting Curry make his rounds and come to peace with this devastation on his own, had started to come forward. But he stopped after only a few steps, knowing that his friend would rather be left in privacy right now, and so he waited and held the horses and mule.

He was finding the odour that permeated the hideout to be sickening as well but not so much as to cause him to loose his breakfast. Being here again certainly brought back his own rush of memories, but he knew that this must be much harder on the Kid. He waited patiently for him to gain control again and then walked over to him, leading the horses.

"You alright Kid?"

"Yeah." Curry answered, though sounding a little strangled.

He went over to his horse and taking the canteen from the saddle; he took a drink, swished the water around in his mouth and then spit it out. He took another drink then and swallowed it. He poured more water into his cupped hand and splashed it over his face and then took another, longer drink. Lom waited patiently.

"Sorry." Kid said, once he got his breath. "It's just that smell—it took me by surprise."

"Yeah, it's pretty strong alright." Lom agreed.

"No, it's not that." Curry told him. "It's just….it's the same smell after those raiders attacked our farm. That same mix of burning wood and animal flesh." Kid retched again, but he managed to keep everything down. "Oh, jeez. I gotta get outa here. Let's go Lom."

"Okay." Lom agreed. "You've seen enough?"

"Yeah. Everything's gone. There's nothin' left here for me now, it's all gone. Let's go."

The ride back to Porterville was a quiet and solemn one to say the least. Curry was in mourning and Lom was wise enough to leave him alone.

Heyes sat; staring silently at nothing over the Kid's left shoulder. Finally he gave a little cough and swallowed.

"Charlie Hadden's dead?" He confirmed, still not looking the Kid in the eye.

"Yeah Heyes."

"And Matt Hamilton too—well, that's no great loss." Heyes continued on, mumbling more to himself than to his friend. "Too bad about the Red Sash fellas though, they seemed alright."

"Yeah."

"So…ahhh…Kyle and Lobo are in custody." He reiterated as though repeating the information over to himself would help his brain to work its way through the shock and allow him to accept the truth of it all. "And Wheat's on the run."

"Yeah Heyes." Curry confirmed again. "At least that's how things stood when I left Porterville yesterday. I don't know what Lobo's chances are of pullin' through—he was pretty badly broke up."

"Hmmm. Might be better off if he just died." Heyes mumbled. "Better than comin' here."

Curry made no comment about that. He knew Heyes was hurtin' and that he was struggling to come to terms with it. He also knew that Heyes had yet to confirm the one death that was the hardest of all, that maybe if he didn't ask for confirmation he could convince himself that he simply hadn't heard it. But if nothing else, Heyes was a realist and finally, through the hurt and the bitterness, he swallowed again and shifted a little anxiously in his chair.

"And Preach…..ahhh—Preacher? He's dead?" And he forced himself to look over and meet his cousin's eyes. The pain that he saw there answered his question even before Curry nodded.

"Yeah Heyes." Curry whispered. "Preacher too."

"What was he doin' up at the Hole?" Heyes asked softly. "He usually winters down in New Mexico."

"Yeah, I know." Curry shrugged. "I donno."

"The Hole's gone." Heyes stated, matter-of-factly. "Well…"

The two friends sat in silence again for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry Heyes." Curry finally said. "Not much of a reunion, bringing ya' news like this."

"Yeah….not your fault Kid." Heyes assured him. "I'm glad you told me. Better than havin' Carson rub it in my face. He would have loved that—musta stuck in his craw not bein' able to say anything."

Kid gave a little smirk. "Yeah, I'm sure." Then he looked back at his cousin, concern creeping into his eyes. "You gonna be okay Heyes?" He asked. "Not gonna go off and do somethin' stupid are ya'? Kenny was concerned about that—well we both were. You've been doin' so much better lately, stayin' outa trouble an' all. You're not gonna give Carson a reason to start beaten' on ya' again are ya'?"

Heyes sent his cousin a sad smile. "No Kid, I'm not gonna go do something stupid."

"Okay, good." Kid nodded, but he still needed more of an assurance. "You gonna be okay Heyes?"

Heyes gave the Kid the benefit of a full dimpled smile this time.

"Yeah Kid, I'm gonna be okay. Don't go worryin' about me." Then he dropped the smile and sent his own look of concern over to his cousin. "You gonna be okay?"

Kid smiled. "Yeah Heyes, I'll be okay."

Later in the day Kenny did a quiet stroll past Heyes' cell with the intention of just doing a quick walk-by check on the inmate. The guard had noticed the convict being escorted back into the prison proper after his visit with Jed and he'd looked wrung out. Just staring ahead and focusing on nothing—almost like he was in shock and Kenny knew he wouldn't feel right heading for home that night if he didn't make sure the inmate was okay.

Kenny came level with the cell door and, as was said, fully intended on simply glancing in at the occupant and then carrying on. But what he saw Heyes doing while he sat on his cot and leaned in concentration over his little table caused Kenny to suddenly change direction and cross the threshold.

Heyes glanced up, startled and then seeing that it was a guard, even Officer Reece, he instantly dropped his gaze and sat back, away from the table.

"No, it's alright Heyes." Kenny assured him. "There's no problem."

Heyes nodded and visibly relaxed but still didn't look up.

"I've noticed you playing with this deck of cards before." Kenny explained. "I'm curious about what it is you're doing."

No response from the inmate. Kenny rephrased the sentence.

"Show me what you're doing with the cards."

A ghost of a smile played across Heyes' lips and he sat back up again and pulled the cards into a deck. Kenny stepped forward, watching intently. He'd never really noticed Heyes' hands before and it surprised him to see how delicate they were. Not feminine in any way, most definitely masculine, but lithe and graceful with the long, slender fingers dancing over the cards, seducing them it seemed without touching them, into doing what he wanted them to do. It was amazing just to watch that.

Heyes had picked up the deck of cards and was beginning to shuffle them, the smile on his face becoming broader as he warmed to his audience.

"The object of this game." He explained as he dealt out the cards. "Is to deal out twenty-five cards and then try to make five pat hands out of them."

Kenny creased his brow skeptically. "You can do that?"

"Hmmm." Heyes nodded. "Nine times outa ten—usually."

Kenny smiled. "Show me."

"Jed." Kenny greeted his visitor at the front door. "Comon' in."

Curry felt a little awkward at first, stepping through into the front hallway of Kenny's home, but Ken ushered him forward, showed him where to hang his coat and hat and gun belt and then led the way into the well lit and homey kitchen. A motherly woman turned to greet him with a smile. She had brown hair turning to gray that was pulled back into a bun, with dark blue eyes and a round and pleasant face. Like Belle, she had a way of making a stranger feel right at home.

"This is my wife, Sarah." Ken introduced them. "Sarah, this is Jed Curry."

"Ma'am." Curry nodded.

"Mr. Curry." Sarah came forward and shook his hand. "Finally I get to meet one half of the partnership that's been giving my husband so many sleepless nights."

"Ahhh, Ma'am?" Curry asked, a little confused.

Kenny smiled and sent his wife a teasing reprimand.

"Later." He said. "We can get into that after supper. OH! Here come the kids! Behave yourselves now, we have company."

Two well grown boys had heard the voices in the kitchen, and knowing who was expected they had quickly made their way into the room to join them and meet their infamous visitor. They both were looking a little awe struck and nervous, but grinning too.

"Jed, these are two of my boys." Kenny introduced them. "The older one there is Charlie and the one hiding behind him is William. Boys, say 'hello' to Mr. Curry."

Jed smiled and shook hands with both boys who reciprocated with slack jaws and wide eyes.

"Howdy Charlie, William."

"Hello Mr. Curry." Came Charlie's response, but William just stared, not quite sure what to do with his hands.

"Our oldest boy, Joseph is back east in college." Kenny explained. "Though I could have sworn that we usually have one more off-spring underfoot at dinner time."

Sarah smiled. "I think Evelyn is a little shy about meeting you, Mr. Curry. Give her a moment and she'll show up."

Curry smiled. "No need for her to be shy Ma'am, I won't bite." He joked. "How old is she?"

"She's six." Sarah answered. "And quite the little tomboy!"

Curry smiled even more. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that Ma'am." He assured her. "I seem to recall knowing a couple of other young tomboys who have managed to grow up into fine young ladies. One of 'em is actually getting married this summer."

"Well that's reassuring!" Sarah admitted with a laugh. "Not a lost cause then?"

"No Ma'am."

"Please, call me Sarah." She told him. "Kenny has spoken about you and your partner so often, I feel like I've known you for years."

"Oh, yes Ma'am….ah Sarah." Curry smiled. He always had trouble switching over to the more casual address when it came to the older ladies—it made him feel as though he wasn't showing them the proper respect.

Sarah smiled at his discomfort but felt assured that he would get over it.

"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour." She announced. "If you gentlemen will excuse me." Then she creased her brow as she turned back to the stove. "Where is that girl? She's supposed to be helping me here. Boys! Go find your sister!"

"Aww, Ma!" Came the unified complaint, but they were shooed out of the kitchen anyways to go accomplish their mission.

"C'mon Jed." Kenny suggested with a smile. "Let's get out from underfoot."

The two men headed into the sitting room and while Jed settled into one of the comfortable armchairs, Kenny poured out two glasses of sherry and passed one over to him. He tapped Jed's glass in a silent salute and then sat down himself and took a sip and gave a sigh.

"It's always good to get home." He commented.

"It's a nice home to get home to." Jed agreed.

Kenny smiled. "Yeah. I'm lucky. I know that." He admitted. "I see some of those young men who end up at the prison and I just thank my lucky stars that my boys seem to be getting off on the right track."

"Well, a good solid home life—decent parents—that can make all the difference." Jed observed, and then added, almost to himself. "If me and Heyes had had…" He stopped himself and smiled a little abashedly; he hadn't meant to go there.

Kenny settled back into his chair and studied the young man sitting across from him.

"Did Heyes get the chance to tell you about the orphans?" Kenny finally asked.

Jed creased his brow. "Orphans? No."

Kenny smiled and shook his head. "That's a shame—he was excited about it and was looking forward to telling you. I guess that other news kinda got in the way."

"Yeah." Jed agreed and looked down at his drink. "How was he after I left? Was he okay?"

"I think so." Kenny informed him. "I went by to check on him and he was playing with that deck of cards you gave him. He seemed alright."

Jed nodded. "Good. That's a good sign. He'll do that when he's working something out in his mind, working through things. That's good. It's when he stops doing something; just sits and stares—that's when ya' gotta watch out."

"Was it bad?" Kenny asked. "What happened?"

Jed nodded sadly. "Yeah, it was." He said. "I was right there, and the Sheriff in charge of it; Morrison, well me and Heyes, we've had 'dealings' with him before and he made me look at all the bodies in order to identify them. He already knew most of 'em, but he just wanted to rub my nose in it."

Kenny frowned. "Not very diplomatic." He mused. "I guess you knew most of 'em?"

"Yeah." Jed conceded. "A couple of 'em were friends. And it's likely you're gonna be meetin' a couple of others of 'em sometime in the near future, if things go as planned."

"Ahh, okay." Kenny acknowledged that. "I'll have to get the rundown on them when the time comes."

"Yeah." Jed said again. Then he became quiet and Kenny knew there was something more coming, something that was obviously bothering the younger man. Finally Jed looked up with a sigh and smiled sadly over at his host. "I see your sons there and think 'thank goodness they've got a decent home and a decent start'. Me and Heyes were younger than they are when we got started on the wrong foot—just, nobody to show us different. And then on that train I almost saw history repeating itself, but things worked out better for one and worse for the other."

Kenny frowned and sent Jed a questioning look. What did that mean?

"There were two young fellas who'd just joined up with the gang." Curry explained. "Fifteen years old, best friends and from what I could tell; from pretty decent families too. But they got the idea that it would be 'fun' to run away from home and join an outlaw gang."

Kenny groaned.

"Yeah." Curry continued. "One of them youngsters got shot dead, right outa the saddle. The other one, well hopefully he's back home by now but he's taken a hard lesson back with him. Had to lose his best friend to find out that being an outlaw ain't quite so glamorous after all."

It was Kenny's turn to nod and then take a sip of his sherry. "That's sad to hear." He admitted, not being able to help but think of his own sons. "But in a way that takes us back to something that Heyes was going to ask you, but since he didn't have the chance, I guess it falls to me." He smiled ruefully. "Somehow I had a feeling it would."

"Oh?" Curry asked. "What's that?"

"The orphans."

"Right." Curry commented. "You mentioned that before. What was that all about?"

Kenny smiled. "Sister Julia asked Heyes if he would go to the orphanage and spend some time talking with the children. You know; answer their questions about what life was like as an outlaw, that sort of thing. Ohhh, he didn't want to at first—he was scared to death."

"What?!" Curry asked incredulously. "Heyes scared to talk about himself? I don't believe it!"

"Mmmm hmmm." Kenny nodded. "Put out every excuse he could think of. But the Sister finally convinced him to do it—and not surprisingly—once he found his footing he kinda enjoyed himself."

"Now that sounds more like it!" Jed admitted. "He had a good time?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good." Jed emphasized. "Heyes needs some good times these days."

"Yup." Kenny agreed, and then sent Jed a scrutinizing look. "The children enjoyed it too—so much so that they became quite enthusiastic when Heyes suggested that you should come out and spend some time with them as well."

Curry turned pale. "Me?"

"Hmmmm."

"Aww no." Jed back tracked. "Heyes is the talker, not me. I'd be no good at that."

"Well, just think about it." Kenny suggested. "A couple of the boys there would be close in age to the ones who got themselves mixed up with your gang. A word of caution from you would go a whole lot further than anything the Sisters' might have to say."

"Yeah, I suppose…" Still, Jed did not sound too enthusiastic.

Then a small voice over at the doorway caught their attention and both men looked over that way.

"Pa?"

"There she is!" Kenny announced his whole face lighting up with paternal pride and he stretched out his arm to beckon her over. "Come on in, Sweetheart and say 'hello' to Mr. Curry."

Rushing footsteps filled the sitting room as the young girl ran to her father's protective arms. Once there, she stood, snuggled up beside him and then turned to shyly acknowledge their visitor.

Curry sent her his most reassuring smile. She was a pretty little thing, with her mother's brown hair and dark lashes nicely contrasting with her father's gray eyes; her features were unusual—and striking. She was going to be a looker that was for sure.

"Evening Miss…Evelyn isn't it?" Curry greeted her.

"Yessir." Came the very quiet response, and she turned and hid her face in her father's shoulder.

Kenny laughed and gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "Is supper ready?" He asked her.

She nodded silently.

"Good!" Kenny stated. "C'mon Jed, let's go eat. We'll discuss that other matter after supper."

"Fine."

The mood around the supper table became light and amiable quite quickly as the two boys got over their shyness and the inevitable questions started coming at Jed faster than his fast draw could have stopped them.

"Are you really as fast as they say?" Charlie asked over a mouthful of biscuit. "I mean, they say you're so fast, ya' can't even see it."

"I don't know." Jed admitted. "I injured my shoulder a while back and it's taking time to get it workin' right again."

"What happened?" Asked William. "It get broke?"

"Broken." Kenny corrected his youngest son. "And I'm not so sure that Mr. Curry wants to discuss that right now."

"No, that's okay Kenny." Jed assured him. "I don't mind answering their questions."

Ken smiled and nodded.

"That's right." Jed answered the question. "It got broken quite badly and it's taken some time to heal up properly."

"Ohhh." Came the unified response.

"But you're still fast ain't ya'?" William continued to hold the floor.

"Aren't you." Kenny piped in, though he felt as though he was fighting a loosing battle.

Jed smiled. "Yeah, I'm still fast."

Both boys smiled broadly. It just wouldn't be right at all if Kid Curry was no longer the fastest gun in the west.

"Can we see it?!"

"Yeah! Can we!?"

"Ahhh…."

"Not tonight boys." Kenny stepped in. "Maybe another time."

"Awwww!"

"How come your eyes are so blue?" Came the quiet, tentative question from little Evelyn.

Kenny and Sarah were doing their best to stifle a laugh. Curry was caught flat-footed and just stared at her with his mouth open for a couple of beats. The inquisitive gray eyes gazed back at him, awaiting an answer.

"Ahh, well…." Then Jed couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Well, I suppose you'll have to blame my mother for that." He explained. "She was real pretty; with long blond, curly hair and the most brilliant blue eyes you would ever wish to see. Like looking into a clear mountain pool with the summer sun shining on it."

Evelyn smiled and was instantly in love.

Kenny's eye brows went up at the look that came over his daughter's face and then he sent what only could be called a teasing smile over to their guest. The two older boys rolled their eyes and groaned. Girls are so silly!

Sarah was still smiling as she pushed herself away from the table. "Come along Evelyn, help me get the desserts. No, no Jed." She stopped him from rising with a quick hand gesture. "You just stay put, you're our guest tonight."

"Oh, yes Ma'am."

Evelyn smiled openly at her new 'boyfriend' and then quickly climbed down from her chair and scurried after her mother to help with the next course.

"Boys, how about you clear up the plates." Kenny suggested. "Help your mother."

"Yes Pa."

Once the two men were left alone at the table for those few moments, Kenny sent a humourous look over to Jed.

"I can't see you having any trouble at all impressing a room full of orphans." He reiterated. "And I thought you said that Heyes is the only one with the 'silver tongue'."

Jed just rolled his eyes, looking a little uncomfortable.

After supper was dispensed with Jed and Kenny again retreated to the sitting room and settled in to the comfortable arm chairs with their second cups of coffee. It was time to get down to the real reason for the social call. Kenny had had plenty of time to think about the request and he knew how important it was, but he was still struggling with just how much he would be willing to stick his neck out.

"I agree that it's an important issue." Kenny stated. "The prison system really does need an overhaul, especially with Wyoming trying to attain statehood, but I have to be very careful here."

"I know." Jed agreed. "That's why I don't want to pressure you or Dr. Morin to give us any more than you're willing to. I don't want to see anybody loosing their jobs over this—or worse."

Kenny looked off into the middle distance for a moment, struggling with himself.

"Yeah." He finally agreed. "I have my family to consider—and with the boys all coming of age now it would not be a good time to be out of work. Joe is already in to his second year at college and of course Charlie is eighteen now and just chomping at the bit to join him there. William will probably be right behind him." Kenny sighed and ran a hand through his hair in what seems to be a universal indication of stress. "Even with there being some benefits with my job to help out with education, it's still an expensive undertaking."

Jed nodded, thinking that was the end of it.

"But." Kenny continued. "I've always told my boys to stand up for what they think is right, even if it means going against the popular belief. What kind of father would I be if I didn't live by my own teachings? What I see in that prison on a day to day basis is enough to make one reconsider the options."

Jed looked up, feeling hopeful.

"It's not just the excessive physical punishments inflicted on the inmates." Kenny reflected. "But I have begun to doubt the legitimacy of the very structure of the prison system itself."

"In what way?" Jed asked, not wanting to mention at this juncture that their lawyer had already mentioned the possibility of presenting their case in a hearing based on that very topic. He also knew that the guard was sticking his neck out just making the statement and Kid wanted to be sure that Kenny would look at this as his idea, not Curry trying to pressure him into anything.

"This dictum that it's for an inmates' social wellbeing that they are not permitted to speak." Kenny carried on hesitantly, but now that he'd opened up the topic, he was still determined to have his say. "The idea being that if the inmate is silent it will give him time to reflect on his crimes and wish to attain absolution."

Jed gave a sardonic snort, giving his opinion on that decree.

"Yeah." Kenny agreed with a nod. "I've seen it happen over and over again. Rather than the inmate becoming reflective and appreciative, many of them slide away in the opposite direction. A new convict who comes into the system quiet and unassuming will often, over time become aggressive and volatile. Then, depending on their own individual personalities they either continue with the aggressive behavior until they need to be further restrained, or they sink into a depression that may ultimately end in suicide."

"Ohhh, jeez." Curry groaned, running a hand over his eyes. "That's worse than I thought."

"I'm talking about the long term inmates now." Kenny pointed out. "Not the fellas who are in for five years or less. A five year sentence is do-able. An inmate can see the end of it and they can usually hold on until they are released. It's the fellas who are looking at a ten to twenty year sentence—or life, they're the ones who for lack of a better term, can end up going insane."

"Yeah." Curry mumbled and then reiterated; "The fellas who are looking at twenty years to life."

"Yes." Kenny agreed, knowing exactly where Jed's thoughts were going. "That's why I've tried to keep Heyes occupied with—anything! Keep his mind active, keep him from sinking. I mean, Heyes came into the system already kicking and fighting, already volatile and unpredictable—already angry. It didn't take much for Carson to push his buttons."

Jed just nodded; he knew Kenny was right in that Heyes hadn't done himself any favours with his aggressive stance and it was mainly due to Kenny's diligence that the convict had been able to adjust at all.

"I know you're doing a lot for him." Jed finally commented. "And believe me; we all very much appreciate it."

Kenny smiled. "Yes. Your friend, Miss Jordan has already expressed her thanks on that account."

Kid perked up with a raised eye brow.

"Beth?" He queried. "Oh yes! She mentioned that she met you. She was very impressed."

"Well, likewise." Kenny smiled again. "Not too many young ladies will stand up to two men with bully clubs, even if it is to protect a friend!"

Jed stared at Kenny for a moment, not quite sure he'd heard that right.

"She did what!?" He finally asked.

Now it was Kenny's turn to be surprised. "She didn't tell you?"

"NO!"

"Well. The beating Heyes took in the infirmary that day would have been a lot worse if Miss Jordan hadn't gotten in between him and Carson and Thompson. I think they stopped more out of surprise than any feelings of intimidation, but it still did the trick. And it took a lot of courage on her part. She's quite the young lady."

Kid sat back with a sigh. "Yeah, well now that you mention it I guess it's not so out of character for her. She put herself between me and a Deputy's rifle at one point and probably saved my life by doing so."

Again, it was Kenny's turn to stare back at Jed in a moment of surprised silence. Then he whistled softly and shook his head.

"Yeah." Kid commented dryly. "I don't know whether she's courageous or just naive, probably both! I'm afraid that one of these times she going to get herself hurt, or—killed." Jed's voice caught a little bit with that last word and Kenny raised an eye brow at him. "She's just so headstrong! Her and her sister both!"

"Or just fiercely loyal." Kenny suggested. "I think that once she develops better judgment she'll be a real force to reckon with. I'm glad she's on our side."

"Yeah." Jed smiled. "If—when we get Heyes outa prison a lot of it will be due to those two young ladies, that's for sure."

Silence reigned again for a few moments while both men sipped their coffee and disappeared into their own thoughts for a time.

"Which way do you think Heyes is likely to go?" Jed finally asked.

Kenny creased his brow, not sure what Jed meant by that. Jed met his eyes, a worried expression settling over his features.

"Extreme aggression or suicidal?" Jed extrapolated.

"Oh." Kenny muttered and then thought about it. "I don't know." He finally admitted. "It's hard to predict. Someone who's quiet and seems well adjusted will just suddenly explode one day and go on a rampage—it's hard to know. Some of the warning signs for a suicide are of course; on-going depression, lack of appetite or when they do eat, it's usually by themselves, in their cell.

Heyes was displaying a lot of those tendencies during his first year here—along with the aggression, which is why I tried to get him involved with other things. Like you said; keep his mind active and challenged and we might just keep him sane. If we can keep him busy hopefully he'll get through it alright. "

"Is it working?"

Kenny nodded. "For now—yes." He answered. "This past winter he has done very well and it looks as though he is dealing alright with the bad news that you had to bring him. I'll still be keeping a close eye on him though; sometimes the shock of news like that can take a few days to sink in."

"DAMMIT!" Kid expostulated as he punched the arm of his chair. "I gotta get him outa there! I just don't know what else to do at this point Kenny!"

Kenny nodded, though he was a little surprised by Jed's sudden outburst, he could certainly understand it and tried to be a little more optimistic.

"The two extremes are not always the case." He pointed out. "Many long-term inmates adjust to their lives in the prison and end up being role-models for the others. It wouldn't surprise me if Heyes goes that route. He's back to enjoying Dr. Slossom's sermons and the little word challenge's she gives him certainly keep his mind occupied."

Ken's deliberate attempt to change the mood of the conversation worked and Jed actually laughed. Being reminded of that game lifted him up out of his slump.

"I don't know whether to thank ya' or curse ya' for giving him that dictionary!" Kid admitted. "Now he's got me playen' word games too!"

Kenny smiled again. "We're not really supposed to give gifts to the inmates, but I thought that would be a worthwhile exception."

"Yeah, well he certainly latched onto that game." Jed admitted. "And I suppose it is kinda fun." Jed laughed again as he remembered Heyes' enthusiasm at the start of it. "He loves to throw words at me that he knows I won't understand, but I guess it's just his way of getting me involved with it too. So, that's alright."

"And that brings us back to something else that I think will be good for Heyes and that you could also become involved with in order to help your partner deal better with his life as he knows it now."

Kid looked at Kenny suspiciously, knowing he'd walked right in to that one.

"The orphanage." Jed stated.

Kenny nodded. "It'll not only help Heyes to know that he's doing something worthwhile, but it'll be helping those kids too. Hearing it right from the 'horse's mouth' sorta speak will do a lot more to deter them from the outlaw life than any pleading or threats of punishment is going to do."

"I suppose it would, wouldn't it?" Jed commented, thinking back to the two young men who had both paid a heavy price for a bad decision.

"Umm hmmm." Kenny agreed.

"Well, give me a head's up when he's going to go back and I'll see what I can do."

"Good!" Kenny responded, and then he turned serious again. "As for our other topic of conversation, do you have anything in the works now?"

"Yeah." Jed admitted. "We have that appointment to see Governor Moonlight to discuss the possibility of a pardon, but after this latest event, I'm not holding my breath on it. I'm really beginning to think that we're going to have to hit the Governor's office with a hearing, and bring as much information to the table as we possibly can."

"Well." Kenny sighed. "If it comes to that, I'll submit my records for consideration and I'll see if Morin is willing to do the same. I'd rather not appear in person though, after all the Auburn Prison System is the one paying my wage and helping to send my kid's to college."

"I know Kenny." Jed conceded. "Anything you feel comfortable submitting will be appreciated. Thank you."

Just then there was a thumping of running feet on the floor and little Evelyn came charging in to give her Pa a kiss on the cheek.

"Time for bed, little one?" He asked her.

"Yes Pa." She admitted with a shy smile over to Jed. "Ma said to come in and wish everyone a good night and to say goodbye to our guest."

"Good night sweetheart." Kenny said to her and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Say 'goodnight' to Mr. Curry."

Having been given permission, Evelyn then ran over to Jed and gave him a big hug around the neck and a kiss on the cheek as well. Jed couldn't help but feel flattered and he grinned broadly with being so honoured.

"Goodnight, Mr. Curry."

"Goodnight, darlin'." He said. "It's been a real pleasure to meet you."

Evelyn blushed sweetly, and was in no hurry to release her hold, but Sarah was waiting for her at the doorway and soon stepped in to break it up.

"Come along little one." She said as she came up and took her daughter's hand. "You've said your 'goodnights', now it's time for bed."

Evelyn released her hold on Jed's neck, but smiled up at him and gave him a little wave as her mother ushered her away. Jed chuckled as he watched her go. Then he settled back again and met the amused eyes of her father.

"You've got a real nice family here, Kenny." Kid complimented him and Kenny beamed with paternal pride. "I can only hope to be so lucky one day."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it comes to you too, eventually." Kenny assured him. "More coffee?"

Later that night Jed was in his hotel room, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the turmoil of the past week. It had been a real doosey alright and it wasn't over yet.

Kyle would be going to trial soon and it would probably be pretty cut and dry; the only question being, how long would he get. Certainly not the same sentence that Heyes had received, that was pretty much a given. But still, up in air as to what exactly the court would feel an outlaw of Kyle's duration would be deserving of. Jed worried about how Kyle would make out in prison; he was none too bright, but he was a gentle soul and might not be able to stand up for himself. Of course Heyes would be there to watch out for him, but then that could bring trouble of its own. Kid sighed. He was going to be having more than one inmate to come visit if things went the way it was expected. Hmmm, two birds with one stone—maybe three.

And that brought up the question of Lobo. Kid wasn't sure what he hoped would happen with that. Part of him wanted the outlaw to recover from his injuries; there'd been so many deaths already. But another part of him sorta agreed with Heyes' morbid comment; That Lobo would be better off dead than ending up in prison. But still, Lobo might not get too long of a sentence—it was hard to tell. And he was just mean enough to survive his injuries and get through his sentence just to spite everybody At which point he would get out and probably go right back to outlawin'—he just didn't have anything else.

For that matter, neither did Kyle.

And what about Wheat? Where was he? Did he take off for parts unknown, or was he lying low, hoping for a chance to spring Kyle? Secretly Kid hoped that Wheat had done the smart thing and headed away from the usual haunts, someplace like Washington or Idaho or maybe even Canada. Just go someplace where nobody knew him and he could start over, 'cause with Morrison on his trail he didn't stand a chance if he stayed around these parts! But Wheat never was all that smart, was he?

And then there were four! Oh brother! Heyes could go ahead and reestablish his old gang right there inside the prison—wouldn't that be fun! Well, at least they could all look out for each other then and Carson wouldn't stand a chance. Yeah, that would kinda' turn the tables a bit.

Then Kid started thinking about the meeting they had set up with the Governor and he snorted derisively even though there was nobody else in the room to hear him. Fat chance that was going to do them any good! Obviously Moonlight wasn't going to be interested in giving Hannibal Heyes a pardon, not if he was willing to offer Morrison even more money than the official rewards would bring in order to insure the end of the Devil's Hole gang! Kid sighed into the darkness and ran both hands through his hair.

All of this was just getting to be too much—how had it all become so complicated? All they wanted was a clean slate—a chance to start over again. Was that really too much to ask? Apparently so, Kid answered his own question.

God, he missed his cousin! He felt like they were drifting away from each other, their lives heading down two different paths that were taking them further and further apart as time went on. But neither of them was able to stop their individual journeys', or turn around and join up with the other one again. This just wasn't the way it was supposed to be!

All these thoughts and questions were whirling around in Kid's head, making it impossible for him to settle into sleep. Geesh! He thought to himself as he rolled over onto his side. I'm turning into another Heyes! Thinkin' and worryin' about stuff I can't do nothin' about! DAMMIT!

He flung the covers off and quickly got out of bed—no point whipping a dead horse so he may as well go out and do something about it! He got dressed and headed outside, making his way over to the brightly lit and obviously still active saloon.

Stepping into the bright and noisy establishment he headed over to the bar and ordered a whiskey, then taking the shot glass in his hand he turned to survey the room. There was the usual card games' going on as well as other fellas just sitting and chatting with friends or flirting with the very attentive saloon gals. Curry looked around with a little more scrutiny, searching for someone in particular and it didn't take long before he spotted her. He smiled and motioned her over.

She lit up, and it wasn't just an act for a paying patron either. Though she knew that she would be getting paid for her services, Jed Curry was one of her favorite customers. Not only was he painfully handsome, but he was a generous and versatile lover as well—getting paid for it was just an added benefit! She smiled and turning her back on the idiot who was trying to flirt with her, she sashayed over to the bar and snuggled up to the blond ex-outlaw.

"Why, good evenin' Jed." She cooed at him. "I was beginnin' to think that I wasn't gonna be seein' ya' this trip."

"I know Marian, I know." Kid smiled at her. "But I got to thinkin' about how pretty you are and I knew I just couldn't leave town without a visit to my favorite girl."

"Uh huh." Marian responded with a laugh. She knew a line of bullxxxx when she heard it, but that was alright, it was all part of the game. She discreetly placed her hand on his hip and then slid it down to nestle comfortably against his groin. "You feelin' restless tonight sweetheart?"

"Well, when ya' ask it like that, how can a man say 'no'?" Jed answered and he caressed her arm and leaned in for a kiss. She met him halfway and at the same time gave a slight squeeze of her hand right where it counted. Curry groaned; he couldn't help it. "Upstairs." He breathed into her ear. "Help me forget my worries."

Marian smiled and she and the bartender exchanged a knowing nod. Then she took her project for the evening by the hand and led him over towards the stairs. Jed followed very willingly and by the time they were half way up, he was the one in the lead cause he knew the way so well…..

To Be Continued.

Author's note; Curry's reminiscence of Heyes feeding the chickens was inspired by InsideOutlaw's 'Eggs' challenge story. I asked for and was given permission from her to reference it in this chapter. Thanks InsideOutlaw!


	25. Chapter 25

New Arrivals

Jed Curry was seething. He was angry with himself afterwards because he really should have been prepared for the outcome, indeed he had predicted as much after the raid on Devil's Hole. Still, he had allowed himself to hope and that hope had set him up for disappointment.

He got a hint of what was to come right at the beginning of the meeting when Governor Moonlight had given Steven a hearty handshake, Lom an average one and to Jed, he had barely clasped his hand and had not even pretended to make steady eye contact. There was a time when Curry would have felt intimidated by such an acknowledgment from a high up official, now all it did was tick him off.

"Well, Mr. Granger. I can certainly see that you have done your homework." Moonlight commented while he flipped once again through the paperwork that Steven had presented him with. "But I really don't see anything here that would suggest that Mr. Heyes is deserving of a pardon or even a reduction in his sentence for that matter."

"Surely, Governor Moonlight, you must see the parody of justice in this case." Steven pushed. "For a man who has never committed murder or even assault for that matter, for him to be sentenced to life in prison is very extreme to say the least."

"On the contrary, Mr. Granger." Moonlight countered him, totally ignoring the fact that one of the individuals whom he would be referring to was sitting right in front of him. "Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry created havoc among the honest hard-working citizens of this territory—and they did it for years! Now perhaps Mr. Heyes never killed or 'assaulted' anyone in the most basic meaning of the terms, but he and his partner still caused a great deal of harm, undermining the very structure of the territory's financial base!"

"No more than any number of other outlaws who have gone through the court system and received far less stringent sentences." Steven pointed out. "Why should Mr. Heyes…"

"I have gone over the testimonies' from the trial." Moonlight cut the lawyer off. "I have read the statements made by witnesses and comments and observations made by Judge Parsons. Mr. Heyes was disrespectful to the court right from the beginning and even behaved in a threatening manner towards at least one of the witnesses brought forward to testify. He was given more than one warning to conduct himself in a more respectful manner and yet declined to do so. The man is a scoundrel to say the least and has shown that he has no respect for the law what so ever."

"That's not the true situation at all!" Curry jumped in, much to Steven's chagrin. Lom inwardly groaned. "Heyes and I tried for five years to earn that amnesty. We worked hard for it because we knew how important it was. Heyes' disrespect wasn't towards the law or the court, but towards a man who was willing to knife his friends in the back in order to safe himself!"

For the first time during this meeting, Governor Moonlight acknowledged the ex-outlaw and looked him straight in the eye. But the look was hard and unconditional, showing nothing but disdain for the man sitting before him.

"From what I can see, Mr. Heyes was simply attempting to pull another 'con'." Moonlight growled quietly, his thick black beard bristling. "Only this time he was attempting to hood winkle the legal system of this territory. It was becoming obvious even to him that the day of the outlaw was coming to an end—he even states as much in his own testimony! His attempts to gain an amnesty were based more on his desire to avoid prison time than any new-found respect for the laws of this country!"

"With all due respect…" Curry tried to protest, but again was cut off.

"Don't insult me by even pretending to have 'respect' for this office, Mr. Curry!" Moonlight shot back at him. "I was appalled by Mr. Warren allowing himself to be pressured by public opinion into granting you an amnesty! But I suppose I should have expected as much! After all—what else can one expect from a bloody Republican! If it was within my power to do so I would rescind that damned amnesty, have you thrown in irons and taken directly from here to the Territorial Prison where you could re-join your partner until hell freezes over!"

And this is when Curry started to seethe.

"Governor Moonlight!" Steven quickly interjected before his client did something he would later regret. "I remind you that we came to this meeting in good faith in that you would honour the legal standing of my client and respect his status as a citizen of this country! You have no right to make such a threat against him!"

"That is the only reason he is still seated in my office as a free man!" Moonlight pointed out. "If the law, as it stands now protects this man from being sent to prison, then there's not too much I can do about it. But to expect me to grant a pardon to Hannibal Heyes after he has been fairly tried and sentenced is utterly ridiculous!"

"I believe the point that we are trying to make here Governor, is that it was NOT a fair trial!" Steven reiterated. "That a twenty years to life sentence far exceeds what was fair considering the nature of the crimes for which Mr. Heyes was being tried for!"

"Matter of opinion, Mr. Granger." Moonlight pointed out. "Mr. Heyes lied continually throughout his trial—claiming to have gone straight, only for it to be revealed through the testimonies of others that he had done no such thing. Indeed, he was using the trust that had been given to him by his friends as the very tool he needed to deceive them. Hardly someone who would be worthy of that type of trust again."

"Considering that I am one of those friends whom he deceived." Lom spoke up for the first time. "And I have forgiven him that deception once I came to understand the justification of it…."

"Then you are a fool, Sheriff Trevors." Moonlight accused him. "And for a lawman of your standing, that is a sorry thing to see. I am a busy man gentlemen—I have given you my answer to your request and that is the end of it. Good day."

The three men sat at a table in the café, drinking coffee and discussing the meeting and its repercussions, or perhaps we should say that two sat and discussed the meeting. One sat, tight lipped and silent, staring into nothing and strangling his coffee cup.

"I guess that settles it." Steven was commenting. "The next step is a hearing. Moonlight can't just arbitrarily brush away a formal hearing. If the evidence is strong enough he will have to respond to it."

"Yeah, but is the evidence strong enough?" Lom questioned with a bit of doubt in his tone. "What else have we really got that wasn't presented to him here?"

Steven glanced over at Jed. "What do you think Jed?" He asked his client. "Is it likely that Officer Reece and Dr. Morin will testify on Heyes' behalf?"

"No." Was Jed's curt and angry response.

"No?" Steven reiterated. "Not at all?"

Jed sighed and relaxed a little, realizing that remaining in a snit wasn't going to help their situation at all.

"They're both willing to submit their records, but not appear in person." Jed filled in the blanks. "They're concerned that they could lose their jobs if they do any more than that."

"That's understandable." Steven nodded. "It would be putting them on the spot. Hopefully the records of unwarranted abuses will be enough. Then we have Beth's eye-witness account, and if Sister Julia is willing to testify—that would help too."

"To be quite honest Steven." Jed admitted. "I can see this plan helping us if all we wanted to accomplish was to question the Auburn Prison System. But I don't see how it is going to get Heyes outa there! It might change the way he's being treated, which is certainly better than nothing but how is it going to affect his sentence?"

Steven was contemplative. "Well, we will continue to question the legitimacy of that sentence and suggest that he has already suffered enough punishment and therefore is deserving of a pardon at this time. Especially if he continues to behave himself and stays out of trouble—that could only be to his benefit."

Lom and Jed exchanged glances. It's true that Heyes had done well through the winter, but how long could he keep that up? Or was he going to behave in a manner similar to what Kenny had described to Kid; put on an act of acceptance and co-operation until one day something lights the fuse and he explodes.

Just then Betsy came over with the coffee pot to refill cups and take their dinner orders if they planned on eating.

"It sure is nice to see you again, Steven." Betsy commented as she filled their cups. "It's been a long time. I hear you're betrothed."

Steven smiled. "Yes. A young lady in Colorado."

"That's nice." She congratulated him sincerely. "When is the big day?"

"Oh, ah—end of July." Steven actually had to think about it as his mind had recently been filled with other matters.

Betsy smiled. "Well, she's a lucky lady." Then she acknowledged the other two patrons, her smile broadening when her glance rested on the Kid. "Hello Sheriff, Mr. Curry."

"Ma'am." Lom nodded a greeting and left it at that since he knew that her attention had already moved on to his companion.

"Evenin' Betsy." Jed greeted her. "Still working here, I see."

"Well, I am part owner now, so I guess I'll be working here for a while." She announced with a proud smile. "You tend to put more effort into a place that's your own!"

"Congratulations." All three men responded.

"That's quite an accomplishment!"

"Good for you."

Betsy beamed and her eyes twinkled over at Jed even more. Lom rolled his eyes and Steven just observed the interchange with a humourous smile. There was just something about both partners that the ladies found irresistible. Lom surmised to himself that Heyes could probably be sitting here with shaven head and sunken cheekbones and still command the majority of the feminine attention.

"So." Betsy continued, trying to pull herself out of those enchanting blue eyes and return to the matter at hand. "Are you gentlemen having supper tonight?"

"Oh yes!"

"Uh huh."

"I suppose."

"We have some real nice venison steaks tonight with all the fixin's and then some berry cobbler for dessert. How does that sound?"

Everybody perked up at the sound of that and Jed realized that he actually was hungry despite his bitter disappointment at the outcome of the meeting.

Three weeks later Heyes was down on the work floor going through the old routine of making a broom and trying to stay out of trouble. It was a good thing that this particular duty was down to basic motor skills now because Heyes had his mind on other things and yet was still able to accomplish his tasks without reprimand from any of the guards.

He was still having a hard time accepting the fact that his old hideout was gone. It just didn't seem possible and he was surprised at how empty he felt inside knowing that his 'safety net' no longer existed. He'd always felt that if for some reason the amnesty didn't go through, well he and Kid could always go back home even if it was just to lay low for a while and make a new game plan. The fact that their lives had taken paths that led them in a different direction from that was irrelevant—he still felt vulnerable now that the Hole and the gang members who inhabited the Hole were no longer there for them.

Then there was more bad news. Kid, Steven and Lom had all come by after their visit with Governor Moonlight to let him know how things had gone. Heyes really hadn't expected anything other than what had happened, but he was still disappointed. Their only hope now was that the current trend of Wyoming governors coming and going within a short period of time would continue and Moonlight would soon find himself replaced by somebody named Moonbeam, or Sunshadow or Starlight or…..

Oh well. Heyes really was beginning to settle in to life at the prison. It's not that he no longer held out any hope for release, he just wasn't hanging on a hook, expecting it to happen overnight. He had adjusted, as Kenny suspected he would if he just gave himself the chance and stopped fighting it. Life went on; dull and mundane for the most part, but still punctuated with highlights and accomplishments and he'd developed a way to find pleasure in the smallest of undertakings.

He was busy in his own mind, musing over life as he knew it now when he became aware of a guard's uniform moving into his peripheral vision. He glanced up and then instantly dropped his gaze and felt a slight tingle of apprehension tighten up his shoulders as he recognized Carson standing beside him.

"Convict, follow me."

Oh crap! Now what? Heyes put down his work tools and followed the senior guard across the work floor and over to the 'pat down' room, as Heyes had begun to refer to it in his own mind. Carson opened the door and hustled Heyes inside and then none to gently shoved him up against the wall for the usual frisking down.

The guard wasn't exactly respectful in his head to foot search of the inmate and upon reaching Heyes' privates made sure to be as harsh and probing as possible without being obscene. Heyes winced and sucked his teeth at the intrusion and then his upper lip curled in a silent snarl, knowing full well that Carson was deliberately being an ass by exerting his dominance in that manner.

Then the belt was cinched around Heyes' waist and he was pulled around and his hands snapped into the cuffs. The whole time this was going on Carson was staring at the prisoner, trying to intimidate—to make him squirm and though Heyes could feel the intensity of it, he refused to comply. He stood stock still while being shackled and kept his eyes diverted and his expression blank. He didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't going to give Carson any excuse to turn him into a punching bag for the rest of the afternoon.

Finally Carson couldn't drag this particular procedure out any longer and the inmate was taken out of the room and then over to the exit from the ward that led into the official area of the prison. Heyes' heart sank as he realized he was being escorted to the Warden's office again. Damn! Heyes had gotten used to not having to deal with Warden Mitchell and the little game he was insisting on playing with the inmate, but now here they were, heading right back into it again. Heyes gave an inward sigh. Damn.

They entered the head office and stood silently in front of the desk, waiting for acknowledgement. Warden Mitchell sat quietly, flipping through a folder of papers and didn't bother to look up at his company. He knew who was there.

"So, Mr. Heyes." Mitchell began, still without looking up. "It appears that we will be having a couple of your compatriots coming to join us soon."

Silence. Heyes hadn't heard a question in that run of words.

Mitchell looked more closely at the head page of one of the folders. "So." He continued again. "Mr. Kyle Murtry. Apparently his wound was not too bad after all and he was tried quite quickly." Then the warden pursed his lips in disdain. "Obviously not much of an outlaw since he only garnered two years with us. Probably get out after eighteen months if he behaves himself." Then Mitchell tossed that folder aside and opened up the other one. Here his lips pursed again, but more in concentration than disdain. "Maurice Lobinskie, hmmm." Heyes brow furrowed in confusion. "Still recovering from his injuries, hasn't gone to trial yet. Never the less, I'm sure he'll be along soon." Then Mitchell condescended to look at Heyes. "What can you tell me about these two men Mr. Heyes?"

"Ummm, I don't know a Maurice Lobinskie." Heyes admitted.

Mitchell opened the folder again and re-read the statistics.

"Nick name 'Lobo'. Ran with the Devil's Hole Gang for the last fifteen years." Mitchell read from the file, and then looked up at the inmate. "That would put him there during your reign Mr. Heyes. How could you not know him?"

"Ohhh." Heyes was enlightened. "Yeah, I know Lobo. Didn't know his legal name is all."

Silence. Mitchell sighed. This particular inmate could be so trying sometimes.

"What do you know about them Mr. Heyes?" Mitchell reiterated.

"Oh! Ummm. Well, they're both outlaws, sir."

Carson's bully club snapped Heyes' right leg out from under him and in a shower of déjà vu the inmate found himself collapsed on the floor and wondering if he should bother getting back to his feet again or not. The question got answered when Carson grabbed him by an arm and hauled him back up again.

Mitchell looked over at him like a parent looking at a misbehaving child and

who was quickly coming to the end of his patience.

"I'm getting tired of this game we are playing Mr. Heyes." Mitchell admitted. "And I am particularly getting tired of your flippant answers. You like to play the fool, but I'm well aware of the fact that you are far from it. When I ask you a question I expect a reasonable answer. Now, again; what do you know about these two men Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes' lips tightened in irritation, but he was also very much aware of Carson's close presence behind him and that guard's willingness to do him harm. He sighed and doing his best to relax his demeanor and putting on his verisimilitude attire, he became complacent.

"Ahhh, both those men were kinda at the bottom of the barrel when it came to the gang members." Heyes commented. "I seem to recall that Murtry was good with dynamite as long as you didn't leave him alone with it for too long. And Lobo—ah." Heyes shrugged. "He was there for fifteen years?"

Mitchell nodded.

"I guess he was good at following orders." Heyes surmised. "He musta spent most of his time in the bunkhouse and wasn't all that noticeable in any way, cause I don't really remember anything remarkable about him."

"Really." Mitchell commented dryly.

"Hmmm."

"I know you have friends on the outside, Mr. Heyes." Mitchell informed the inmate, suddenly changing the subject. "Indeed, they are making their presence well known. Your lawyer in particular seems to enjoy keeping me informed of all the things I'm doing that are not acceptable. However, just this morning I received a very interesting letter from our governor. I'm sure you must feel honoured that the Governor of the Territory actually takes the time out of his busy schedule to notice you."

Mitchell stopped and sat quietly for a moment while he watched the inmate for some reaction to this. Heyes covered any reaction and, truth be known; did not feel honoured at all.

"Apparently Governor Moonlight has also had to deal with some harassment from your 'friends'." Mitchell continued. "He sent them packing when they actually suggested that he grant you a pardon. Still, I'm sure you're already aware of these transactions but what you may not be aware of is the extent to which Governor Moonlight is in support of how I conduct affairs here at the prison."

Here Heyes' heart sank. The hopes of getting a governor in office who might actually be willing to be reasonable were being repeatedly squashed beneath the inmate's feet. Now, if Moonlight were actually lending his support to Mitchell and his regime then Heyes didn't stand a chance. Hearing or no hearing; the door leading to Heyes' freedom had just been slammed in his face. Again. Heyes couldn't help but show his disappointment.

Mitchell smiled, knowing he had won the day this time.

"So." Mitchell summarized. "It doesn't really matter how much your friends want to shout and wave their fists, if the Governor of the Territory is not interested in their complaints then there is no reason why I should be concerned about them either. Now, having said that I will inform you that I am very much aware of your duplicity concerning our previous agreement. Over these past eighteen months you really haven't brought me any information of any value, what so ever. And I must admit that at this point, any information you might see fit to pass on to me would be highly unreliable."

Again, Mitchell smiled at the inmate and Heyes was working his poker face for all he was worth.

"You will be allowed to carry on with your privileges." Mitchell continued. "Hell, you can even go visit the little orphan children if you want to, but be warned Mr. Heyes, that I am watching you. Any deviation from the rules, any misconduct or lack of respect towards the guards will be met with most harshly. Your friends can rant and rave and carry on about abusive treatment and unfair conditions all they want to, but it's not going to do them or you a lick of good. You are mine now Mr. Heyes, and I will do with you as I choose. Do we understand one another?"

Heyes stood silently. The disdain that he usually felt for this man seated before him doubled in its intensity, but now added to it the convict also felt real fear. He hated it. It was not an emotion that he was accustomed to feeling, and yet it was one that seemed to be attacking him more and more since his arrest nearly two years ago. Before that he had always felt confident that he could talk himself out of any tight corner that he found himself in. Then he'd come up against Morrison and the rules had changed and then slowly but surely he had been pulled deeper and deeper into the quagmire and any semblance of free-will had been striped away from him. He was well and truly trapped and he knew it.

Heyes did not answer the question fast enough and Carson gave him a sharp whack on the back of his thigh as a reminder.

"Yessir." Came out as a forced breath. "We understand one another."

"Good. You may return to your duties."

Heyes did return to his duties for the hour that was left of the working day, and though he got through it alright, again his mind was not on it. Carson smirked a bit at the distracted and slightly worried expression that stayed with the convict for the rest of the shift and noted that even over supper Heyes was distant and his appetite practically non-existent.

Indeed, he was so wrapped up in his own concerns that on his way back to his cell with his usual cup of coffee, he started up the stairway to his level without paying too much attention to his surroundings. Then, quite suddenly he realized that one of the numerous prison cats had become entangled in his feet upon the stairs and amongst the loud yowling of the indignant cat and the clatter and clang of his dropped coffee cup, Heyes found himself making a wild grab for the hand railing in order to prevent himself from having a nasty tumble.

The cat took off in leaps and bounds down the steps, ears back and tail high, heading for some dark corning to hide in. It reached the ground level, made a wild skid on the concrete floor while turning a corner and then charged down the hallway and out of sight. Heyes sat on the steps, holding on to the railing until his legs stopped shaking. Dammit! Now he was going to have to get a rag from the kitchen and clean up the spilt coffee—then get himself another cup! He really did need the Kid in here to watch his back, and his feet!

The loud racket had of course caught the attention of some of the other inmates and a couple of the guard and everyone seemed to think that it had been quite a humorous sight. Heyes was not laughing. He hauled himself to his feet with a scowl upon his face and thought about how much he disliked cats—bloody vermin, belonged out in the barn with the rats, and not laid out on the steps just waiting to trip people up!

The next morning Heyes was working the laundry room again and was more than happy to be doing so. He didn't feel at all like having to deal with the snickering looks from the other inmates over the 'cat on the steps' incident, and hopefully by the time he was back working the floor the whole thing will have been forgotten about.

Then, around mid-morning, some movement by the door caught Heyes' eye and he quickly glanced over at floor level and found himself staring into the intense yellow eyes of the black and white feline. Both parties bristled with indignant self-righteousness and Heyes felt his fists clench while the cat growled softly in its throat and lashed its tail a couple of times.

After thirty seconds of this stand-off the cat's attention was diverted for an instant by something happening out in the aisle way and it made the mistake of taking its eyes off the inmate. Heyes made a quick grab for the handy bar of soap and sent it skimming across the small room at floor level. The cat saw it coming and with a scramble of claws on concrete scampered out of the way just in time for the bar of soap to whack into a guards uniform right at ankle level!

Oh crap! Dammit all to hell! Bloody cats! They should all be roasted on a spit and made into stew!

Heyes and Kenny locked eyes, just for an instant, just long enough for Heyes to see the look of surprised amusement coming back at him. Then the inmate dropped his gaze and stood passive and repentant on the other side of the laundry table not quite sure what to expect for his excellent aim.

"No more convicts looking for a fight so you thought you'd start in on the cats?" Kenny finally asked him with a bit of a smile.

"No sir, Mr. Reece." Heyes mumbled an apology. "Sorry. I didn't intend to hit you."

Kenny nodded and made his way deeper into the laundry room.

"I heard about your encounter with that particular tom." Kenny admitted. "I suppose I can understand you wanting to retaliate."

Heyes' shoulders slumped and he made a brief attempt at rolling his eyes—was everybody going to hear about that?

"Be careful though." Kenny cautioned. "Those toms can play dirty if they decide they don't like you." Then the guard got down to business. "I wanted to talk to you about the two new prisoners who will be joining us soon. As you know I like to get some background on the new inmates so that I have a better idea of what to expect."

Heyes glanced up, surprised and then dropped his eyes again and didn't say anything.

"What?" Kenny asked him. "You were about to say something. What was it?"

Heyes hesitated a moment, not quite sure how much he should admit to but then finally decided that if any of the guards were on his side, it was Kenny. "The warden already asked me about that."

Now it was Kenny's turn to look surprised. "That's odd." He observed. "The warden doesn't usually bother himself with new inmates—other than the usual 'welcome to the prison' speech. He doesn't generally deal with them on a day to day basis so….was anyone else with you?"

"Officer Carson." Heyes informed him.

"Carson. Hmmm." Kenny pursed his lips. "I wonder what that was all about. What did you tell them?"

"Not much."

Kenny smiled. "I bet." He commented, but then turned serious again. "Would you be willing to tell me more?"

Heyes nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. Ahh, Mr. Murtry is expected here tomorrow afternoon." Kenny explained. "Mr. Lobinskie hasn't gone to trial yet due to his injuries which were substantial."

Here Kenny flipped open one of the two folders he had with him and began to read some of the passages to himself as a reminder.

"Crushed arm, broken shoulder and a number of broken ribs. The right lung seems to have been damaged as well so even if he does recover, he's going to be weak in that area. We'll have to watch him carefully for signs of pneumonia and other lung ailments during the first winter. I doubt he would survive a bad infection like that." He closed the folder then and looked at Heyes. "What else can you tell me about him?"

"Well for one thing." Heyes stated, as he was folding sheets. "Don't call him Mr. Lobinskie, I don't think even he would respond to that name. We always called him 'Lobo'."

"'Lobo'. Yes, I did notice that mentioned in his file. What else?"

Heyes hesitated again, continuing to fold the sheets while he thought about his answer.

"Lobo was always good in a fight." Heyes began. "He was always loyal to the gang, but not necessarily to the leader—he'd pick and choose whose side he was going to be on depending on who was most likely to win. On the job, you could count on 'em to do what you needed him to do and to be there in a pinch. But he has a mean streak—don't ever turn your back on 'em. I never did."

"Hmmm, okay." Kenny took all this in. "That'll help. Thanks. What about the other one, Murtry?"

Heyes grinned. "Good 'ole Kyle." He said through his dimples. "Kyle is…one puppy short of a litter, if you get my meaning." Kenny smiled and nodded. "He's always so eager to help, to be a part of what's going on and then tripping over his own feet in the process. He's like a boy in a man's body. A small man." Then Heyes stopped smiling and he became reflective. "I'm worried about how he'll make out in here." He admitted. "Carson and Boeman—they'll figure out real quick that he's an easy target. Kyle's not a fighter; he won't know how to stand up for himself."

"Alright." Kenny responded. "I'll keep an eye on him until he finds his footing. I know you'll be doing the same."

"Yup."

"And watch your back."

"I try."

"And no more throwing the soap around." Kenny reprimanded him. "We have plenty of cats here, but soap costs money."

Heyes rolled his eyes and went back to his laundry duties.

Next day Heyes was over in the infirmary so he missed Kyle's introduction to the prison proper. If things went the same way for him as they had for Heyes then the new inmate would not be on the work floor his first day so he would have a chance to settle in a little bit. Still, Heyes was anxious, knowing that Kyle would be in for a hard time even just getting used to the idea that he was actually in prison.

The end of the work day finally arrived and Pearson came to escort Heyes back over to the prison proper and supper time. Heyes entered the cafeteria slowly, scanning the various tables and looking for the familiar figure. It didn't take long for the seasoned inmate to spot the new one; there was just something about the demeanor of a new arrival that made them stick out like a sore thumb.

Kyle was doing more than that. He looked like a nervous bald chicken with one wing in a sling and his eyes were as wide as saucers, looking around at the guards and other inmates like a rabbit at a sharp shootin' contest. Heyes went to get his own plate of food and then started to walk over to the table that Kyle was sitting at. It was then that he noticed Harris making his move to sit next to the new inmate with intentions of starting early on with the pecking order dictate.

Kyle was uncomfortably aware of the larger man sitting down too close to him for it to just be a casual encounter. Kyle nervously sent a glance his way and Harris smiled like a jackal and reaching over snatched the piece of bread off of Kyle's plate. Kyle was about to protest but then thought better of it and just hung his head and tried to disappear into the floorboards.

Still grinning, Harris picked up his spoon and was just about to help himself to some of Kyle's stew when he caught sight of Heyes in his peripheral vision. The seasoned con quickly changed his mind as to how hungry he was and returned his empty spoon back to his own plate. Heyes continued to stand behind him, glaring at him and unlike Carson, he was successful at making his target squirm. Harris picked up the absconded piece of bread and returned it to its original owner, then, without daring to make eye contact he picked up his plate and moved on to sit at another table.

Heyes then sat down next to his friend, keeping an eye on Harris just to make sure he kept going and stayed away. Once satisfied Heyes then turned to smile a quiet greeting to his ex-gang member. The look that came back to him froze the smile on his face and turned his expression to one of wonder with a touch of fear. What had he done to make Kyle so angry with him?

It had always struck Heyes as funny that Kyle had eyes that were just as big and blue and innocent as Kid's were—until Kid got mad and then they weren't so innocent any more. But Heyes had never really seen Kyle angry before and the icy blue daggers that were being sent his way pierced his heart and put a knot in his stomach. His feelings were hurt; he thought Kyle would be relieved to see him, maybe even happy so that look of reproach that he received instead of one of friendly greeting was a blow indeed.

Heyes got over his surprise quickly and sent his friend a questioning look and silently mouthed the word; what? Kyle just pursed his lips and looked back at his food but was showing no interest in touching it. Heyes' jaw tightened and his expression darkened as he started to feel a little angry himself. He gave Kyle a sharp jab in the thigh with his knuckle to get his attention and when the blue eyes turned to him again, he put more emphasizes on the silent inquiry; WHAT?!

Kyle did a quick glance around, already cautious of the guards, and not seeing any looking their way he turned back to the ex-leader and whispered his accusation.

"Kid betrayed us!"

"No!" Heyes breathed back.

"Yeah, he did!"

"No Kyle! Kid didn't know…."

The bully club hit the table between them so hard that the dishes rattled and water splashed out of their cups. Both inmates instantly looked away and went passive.

"I can't believe that I'm seeing you two talkin' here like it's an old time family reunion! Came Thompson incredulous tone. "You already bein' a bad influence on the new inmate Heyes? Don't you think he's got enough to learn without you leadin' 'em astray so soon?"

Heyes remained silent, not sure whether he should answer that with a negative or a positive. Fortunately the guard didn't seem to expect any answer at all.

"The only movin' your jaws should be doin' is chewin' on supper! You understand!?"

"Yessir, Mr. Thompson." Heyes answered quickly.

"How about you newbie?" Thompson asked Kyle as he tapped the inmate on the shoulder with the bully club. "You understand?"

Kyle cringed and then sent a nervous glance over to his 'boss'. Heyes gave him a subtle nod of affirmation.

"Yessir." Came the quiet squeak.

"Good." Thompson continued. "That's good to hear. Seems you're a mite bit smarter than your friend here who's had a hard time learnin' the rules. But you seem to be picking them up quite quickly. Now finish up your supper and get back to your cells, I don't wanna have to be keepin' an eye on you two."

Heyes coyly watched the guard move off and once he knew they were in the clear, he picked up his spoon and started to eat. Kyle just sat there like a lump, his left hand cradling the right arm that was still in a sling, and stared dully at the table in front of him.

Heyes nudged him again and then pointed at his plate. Kyle shook his head. Heyes' anger rose up a second time and his upper lip tightened as he slammed his open palm down on the table with a resounding 'whack!' Everyone else at the table jumped and looked over at him but Heyes was only interested in his companion. He picked up the idle spoon and plunked it into the plate of stew in front of Kyle and then pointed harshly at the utensil and waited to be obeyed.

Kyle sighed and picking up the spoon slowly began to pick his way through the stew. He wasn't really hungry—why was Heyes being so mean? But Heyes was making a point, not only to Kyle as to who was still 'boss', but also to the other inmates. He was letting it be known that Kyle was under his protection and anyone messing with the new inmate would find themselves messing with Heyes. The message was clear and Kyle was left alone.

A month later Lobo showed up still looking sickly and underweight but toting a menacing look to his eye that kept the lower end inmates at bay. Lobo acknowledged Heyes but kept his distance preferring to stand on his own and make his own way than appear to be kowtowing to his ex-boss. Heyes respected the man's space but still kept a watchful eye on him, hoping that the mean-tempered outlaw wouldn't get himself into too much trouble right off the get go.

Heyes had felt his heart sink when Kenny had informed him of Lobo's sentence. The outlaw had warranted eight years and knowing Lobo, he wasn't too likely to be getting out early for good behaviour. With a little bit of support, Kyle should be able to do his time and then get out a free man, but Lobo carried anger around with him like a shield and Heyes wondered how long it would be before he started making enemies.

Sure enough within the first week Lobo ended up spending a day in the dark cell for starting a fight with another inmate down on the work floor. Then ten days after that Kenny had to lay down the law to him for talking back and coming at the guard in a threatening manner. Indeed, if Heyes thought about it at all he would have recognized his own behaviour repeating itself but though Lobo was devious in his own right, he did not have Heyes' intellect. He wouldn't bother taking the time to learn how to circumnavigate the rules but would simply plow right through them thereby causing himself a lot of unnecessary pain and suffering.

Heyes didn't know what to do for him other than to watch out for him and try to back him up if he got into something too deep. The new inmate was obviously not recovered fully from his injuries and chances were that he never really would. Any exertion caused him to start coughing and gasping for air and he always seemed to be in pain, which didn't do much for his already volatile temper. Heyes watched him from a distance and worried, knowing that time would only tell if Lobo adjusted to prison life or not.

It was late spring on the Double J ranch and up on the northern pastures the new foals and calves were showing up one right after another. It was a wondrous time of year for Beth as she just loved to see the new babies arrive, all full of life and potential and playful high spirits.

Down in the barnyard pasture, Karma, Buck and another mare with a new foal at foot were contentedly grazing in a group, enjoying the warm sunny day and each other's company. Buck was kept in this field for two reasons, one being that he be easily accessible for his human to catch and saddle up whenever he needed to ride into town or out to check on livestock. The other was to keep Karma company and the big older gelding did seem to have a calming effect on the otherwise high strung mare and Jesse had good reason for wanting to keep her at her ease.

The cargo she carried in her ever extending belly was too precious to be left out on the range with the herd of other brood mares. Indeed, her coming foal could be the beginning of a whole new line for the Double J ranch and that made it more precious than gold, in more ways than one.

Karma herself didn't really understand what was going on with her body. She just knew that as time wore on she was getting heavier and more sluggish and her appetite was ravaging to say the least! If she ever stopped eating to think about it, she was actually quite relieved that nobody was putting a saddle on her and expecting her to go for a gallop across the landscape. That was something she would normally quite enjoy—but not now, all she wanted to do now was eat, and sleep and swish her tail at the flies.

The other mare and foal were there so that Karma's baby, once it arrived would have a play-mate. It's important for young foals to be able to associate with one another as they learn a lot about etiquette and socializing from each other, not to mention its just plain fun to run and buck and play with someone your own age!

On this one particular spring morning, Jesse and Beth were both leaning up against the pasture fence, studying the bulging mare.

"How was she last night in her stall?" Jesse asked his youngest daughter. "Was she restless at all?"

"No." Beth assured her father. "She was just the same as always. Contented and hungry."

"Good!" Jesse smiled. "You still check her bag every morning?"

"Yes!" She answered in some exasperation. "But I still don't know what I'm looking for."

"You'll know it when you see it." Jesse assured her. "You're used to seeing her bag look a certain way, but one of these mornings it's going to be different."

"Yes, but how different? In what way? If you'd just tell me then I would know what to look for!"

"I can't tell you." Jesse insisted. "I don't know how it will be different—it just will be. And you'll know when you see it."

Beth sighed in frustration. "Yes Papa."

Just then Jed came out of the house and seeing them at the fence strode over to join in on the conversation. He would be going to visit Heyes again soon and he was hoping that the foal would hurry up and get here so he could give his partner some good news for a change. Heyes needed some good news right about now.

Jed came up to the fence and casually draped an arm across Beth's shoulders and she absently reached up and held the hand that dangled down in front of her. Jesse smiled inwardly. For a couple who were not officially courting and indeed, continued to insist that they were 'just friends', Jed and Beth were awfully comfortable in each other's company. As long as they didn't get too comfortable.

"How is she today?" Jed asked. "Still pregnant?"

"I certainly hope so!" Beth laughed. "Otherwise she better back off all that grass or she's going to explode!"

"Well, we certainly can't have that." Then, with a quick glance back towards the house, added the comment; "Oh oh, here comes trouble!"

The other two people followed his glance and then both smiled. Two year old JJ had run out onto the porch and had stopped to assess the steps in front of him. He absolutely adored his 'Uncle Thaddeus' and upon seeing that personage walk out the front door had then been determined to join him to wherever he was going. But the porch steps had always been a stumbling block for him and normally insisted on enticing an adult to pick him up and carry him down to ground level.

Unfortunately as it happened, on this particular morning all the adults were busy elsewhere and JJ was determined to get to where he wanted to go. The three people standing by the fence watched with curiosity to see what the little fella was going to do. Jay stood with one pudgy little hand on the post and looked at the steps for a moment, considering his options. Then, with hardly missing a beat he turned himself around and with feet first and hands following he toddled his way down backwards, on all fours.

Once he felt dirt under his feet, he straightened up and turning around, he laughed excitedly at his success and started to run towards his target, then promptly tripped on his own feet and went down face first with a thump and a puff of dust. Everyone at the fence cringed and expected to hear a bellow of tears next, but much to their surprise, it didn't happen. Instead Jay simply picked himself back up and shrieking with laughter continued on until he made his destination.

Once there he tugged on Jed's pant leg and then reached his arms up.

"Unca' Tad'us! Up!"

Jed couldn't help but laugh. This was a game they played over and over again. "What do you want Little Man?"

"Up."

"What? Up here?"

Jay gave him a manly punch on the knee. "UP!"

"Ohhh, well why didn't you say so?"

"UP!"

Jed smiled into those determined brown eyes and then ruffled the boy's long white blonde hair.

"Okay, up you come!"

Jed reached down and lifted the youngster up onto his knee that he had raised with a foot on the lower plank of the fence. Jay was in heaven and he laughed and giggled and hung onto the upper plank while Jed bounced his knee and gave the little boy a 'pony ride'.

Jesse smiled while he watched his son.

"I don't know why that boy likes you so much Jed." Jesse admitted. "You tease him no end and he just keeps on coming back for more."

"He's a glutton for punishment." Jed explained. "I have a partner just like him."

"Buck. Wide!" Jay called out, pointing a little finger at Jed's big gelding.

"No, we can't ride Buck today." Jed told him. "He's not feeling well."

"Awwww!"

"Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"O'ay."

"Buck's not feeling well?" Jesse repeated, suddenly concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just that same tendon." Jed explained. "After our ride into town yesterday he came up lame again. I don't know what's wrong."

"How many times is that now?" Jesse asked.

"Just twice." Jed answered. "I'll rest him a bit longer this time. Probably just didn't give it enough time to heal last time. He'll be fine."

Jesse made no comment, but his expression remained thoughtful.

"Well, chores aren't going to get themselves done." He theorized. "Time we got on with them."

The next morning, early, Beth was in the barn to check up on her special project while Sam was busy getting the morning feed ready. She slipped into Karma's stall with a good morning greeting and a pat on her neck. Karma turned her head and nuzzled her young human friend and then turned her attention back to what Sam was doing.

Beth stroked her neck and then quietly ran her hand down along the mare's shoulder and around her huge belly and then down along her flanks. She continued to speak quietly to her and then bent over and took a quick look at the bag that was tucked neatly between the mare's hind legs, all full and round and ready for the new arrival. Beth instantly caught her breath and straightened up with a sudden excited sparkle in her eyes.

"It's different…" She mumbled to herself.

"What?" Said Sam from the feed room.

"It's different!" She said louder. "Karma's bag is different!"

And with that the young lady forgot to be a lady and slipping out of the stall she bolted out of the barn and headed for the house at a dead run. She charged up the porch steps two at a time and made a grand entrance into the house just as her mother was dishing out the oatmeal. Jesse looked up from his first cup of coffee and sent his daughter a rather surprised look.

"It's different!" Beth exclaimed. "You were right Papa! I don't know how it's different—but it's different!"

Jesse looked over at his wife and they both smiled.

"Good." He stated matter of factly. "Means she's getting close."

"Is she going to have her foal today, Papa!?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Jesse predicted. "But certainly within the next forty-eight hours."

"Oh." Beth's excitement collapsed. "That long?"

"You have to learn to be patient Beth." Her mother reminded her. "Karma will have her foal all in good time."

"Yes, Momma." But she still looked very disappointed.

"Put her out in the field with Buck as usual." Her father told her. "But keep a close eye on her today. If she starts swishing her tail more than usual, or looks at all uncomfortable you bring her back in to her stall and then come get me."

"Yes Papa." Beth agreed as she turned to head back out to the barn.

"And tell Sam to make sure her stall is spotless—and put extra straw in it!"

"Yes Papa!" Came the response from outside.

That night Beth insisted on sleeping out in the barn—she just had a feeling and Jesse and Belle had both learned not to argue with her when she had 'a feeling'. Mainly because she would usually end up being right! So, with Sam going home at nights now to be with his wife, Beth was insistent that she was going to be on watch duty and would not take 'no' for an answer.

So, wrapped up in blankets, Beth had settled into a thick straw padded corner of Karma's stall and was determined to stay awake the whole night in order to keep her favorite mare company.

Two o'clock in the morning, she was awakened from a deep sleep by strange noises and rustling close by her and she instantly jerked her eyes open, afraid that she might have missed the whole thing! She turned up the lamp and was relieved to see that Karma was still the only horse in the stall with her, but the mare was up and circling with her head down and a distracted look to her eye. Buck was awake and watchful over in the other stall.

Beth was on her feet in an instant and hanging the lamp on a hook above the stall door, she went to the mare's head.

"It's alright Karma." She soothed her friend, but Karma was too distracted and though she took comfort in her young human's company, she continued to pace around the stall and occasionally omitted a quiet groan.

Quickly Beth came out of the stall and made a dash for the house. She was up the stairs to the second floor in a flash and started pounding on the door to her parents' room.

"Papa! Papa, I think it's time!" She called. "Papa!"

"What…." Came the sleepy grumble from inside.

"It's time!" Beth repeated. "I think Karma is having her foal!"

"Oh. Alright." Came the still grumbled response. "I'll be out there in a minute."

Beth then turned and charging back down the stairs, she ran out the front door and back to the barn, hoping again that she hadn't missed anything. Needless to say, Jed was also awake by this time.

Twenty minutes later, Jesse, Jed and Beth were out in the barn getting the mare prepared for the big event. Jesse had wrapped up her tail in gauze to keep it out of the way and kept the pitch fork handy to make sure that the stall stayed clean for the new arrival. The other horses in the barn were all awake but watchful and especially the other brood mare was standing sentinel in the stall next to Karma's, trying to be calm and reassuring. Buck stood quietly in his stall across the isle. He was a wise old boy and he knew exactly what was going on. Belle was in the kitchen, making coffee.

Karma continued to circle her stall, head lowered and eyes half closed. She was very uncomfortable and didn't know why, but the humans whom she had come to know and trust were there with her and nobody seemed too concerned. Her friend Buck was standing quietly, sending her silent but comforting assurances and she tossed her head and snorted and continued to circle.

The muscles around her barrel tensed up on her and she tossed her head again with the pain that racked through her body. Her nostrils flared and the whites of her eyes showed and she broke out into a sweat. She didn't know what was going on, she was getting scared. Then the boss human stroked her neck and spoke quietly to her.

"It's alright Karma." Jesse calmed her. "I know this is your first, I know you're scared. But we'll look after you. Don't worry."

Although Karma could not understand the words, she understood the tone and the assurances behind it and she did calm down a bit. Then her muscles tensed again and she tossed her head and blew out a snort, followed by a groan.

Jed stood quietly outside the stall, not wanting to get in anybody's way. He'd never seen a foal being born before and he was fascinated by it. He had no intentions of going anywhere. He smiled as he watched Beth soothe the mare and encourage her to be brave. They made a good pair. He thought of his partner, and wished he could be here for this but Jed was going to watch everything and then he could let Heyes know how it all went—next best thing to being here.

Then suddenly Karma lifted her tail and a great gushing of fluid splashed to the floor and she jumped a little bit with the noise it made hitting the straw. Jesse moved in with the pitch fork to clear out as much of the wet bedding as he could.

"That was her water breaking." Jesse said. "The foal is coming Beth. It'll be soon now."

Beth smiled at her father, excited but nervous all at once. She so hoped that everything was going to go smoothly.

Karma circled one more time, and then with another groan of pain she slowly lowered herself down onto her knees and then her huge belly followed and then with a grunt she lay down on her side. She stretched out, trying to relieve the cramping and then the contractions started in earnest. Nostrils flaring and eyes wide with the pain, she grunted and tossed her head. She shifted, still trying to ease the cramping, but not having much luck, her breathing was heavy and she was sweating with the strain and the anxiety.

Beth sat by her head, stroking her and whispering gently to her and that did help her to stay calm, just a bit. Jesse was squatted down by Karma's tail, caressing her flank and saying words of soft encouragement. Karma lay her head down again, and waited, knowing instinctively that there was more to come.

Then a strong contraction assaulted her and she strained for all she was worth. Jesse smiled.

"I'm seeing little pink baby hooves." He announced.

"Really Papa!" Beth was suddenly excited.

Jed quietly came in to the stall and sat down by Karma's head.

"You go down and help your Pa." He said to Beth. "I'll stay by her."

Beth hesitated. She wasn't sure if she should leave Karma's head, but she so wanted to see a foal being born.

"Go ahead." Jed repeated. "She'll be fine."

Beth smiled and quickly went down to squat beside her father. Her face was radiant, her smile unforgettable.

Another contraction—Karma heaved and pushed again. Her nostrils flaring and eyes wide, she strained and pushed and silently endured.

"The front legs are out." Jesse announced and he had a hold on them and pulled with Karma's contractions, trying to help her. It was coming.

"I see a nose!" Beth exclaimed. "A pink little nose!"

"What colour are the legs?" Jed asked.

"I don't know, it's hard to tell." Beth admitted. "Cream, I think—or white."

Then Karma gave one more huge push as another contraction hit her and then suddenly, with a rush of fluids and the joyous thrill of new life a large and confused cream coloured foal lay sprawled in the straw.

"Oh Papa! Look! It's a palomino! It is, isn't it!?"

"I'd say that's a pretty fair assessment." Jesse agreed.

"Isn't it beautiful Thaddeus?!"

Jed was grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't help it.

Karma-Lou heaved herself up onto her side and tried to reach her new baby. She couldn't quite do it, so she stretched out her front legs, almost knocking Jed over in the process and proceeded to lumber her way to her feet. Then she turned and went to her foal and instantly began licking it.

The umbilical cord had still been attached, but Karma's movement pulled it away from the baby. Jesse quickly clamped the end of it so that it wouldn't bleed out and then he stood to let the mare do her thing. Beth wasn't quite ready to leave, and with shining eyes and a smile that wouldn't quit she sat by the new baby and patted it and stroked it and spoke congratulatory words to the new mother. Karma continued to lick her new foal.

"Well Jesse." Asked Jed as he stood up. "Is it a colt or a filly?"

Jesse sighed, just a little disappointed.

"No, it's a filly." He said. "But that's alright. I can see that I chose the right stallion because the quality is undeniable. I'll breed Karma back to that same stallion again and then next year we'll get the colt."

Then Jesse stroked the mare gently as she continued to clean her baby. She was still having minor contractions and hadn't passed the after-birth, so they would be out in the barn with her for a while yet. It didn't really matter though, because Beth didn't look as though she intended to go anywhere anyways.

"So what do you think Beth?" Jesse asked her. "Do you already have a name picked out for her, or do you need time to think about it?"

Beth looked up at her father with sparkling eyes.

"She's so pretty—all golden and white." Beth said. "As soon as I saw her she reminded me of that meadow up by the creek where the willow tree stands, that meadow gets so covered in daisy's in the summer time that all you can see as far as the horizon is gold and white! So that's what I'm going to name her; Daisy!"

Jed smiled. "Well that sounds like a real good name Beth."

Beth was beaming, taking turns stroking the mare and stroking the foal. This was going to be a night she would never forget and the joy and magic of it would stay with her for the rest of her life.

Then all heads turned as the barn door was pushed open and Belle entered, bringing with her a tray laden with coffee cups and some pastries. Jesse quickly moved over to her to help with the tray, stepping over the three lounging dogs in the process.

"Thank you dear." Belle said as Jesse took the tray and put it down on a bale of hay. "I thought everyone could do with some refreshment. Has the new arrival arrived yet?"

"Yes." Her husband told her. "A very nice filly. I don't think we're going to be able to get Beth to sleep in the house for at least a month."

Belle smiled in agreement, and as the cups were handed out she went over to the stall to take a look at the new foal.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed and her smile broadened. "She's lovely! Does she have a name yet?"

"I'm calling her Daisy." Beth announced as she came over to get her own coffee, not that she would be drinking much of it—too many other things going on!

"Daisy." Belle repeated. "Yes. Very appropriate."

Jed was silent as he sipped his coffee. A slight smile stilled lingered upon his lips but his eyes held a hint of sadness as well. He felt badly that his partner couldn't be here for this. Karma was so much his pride and joy and being able to witness the birth of her first foal would have meant so much to him. Jed would tell him all about it, of course but that still would pale compared to witnessing it first hand.

Belle came up to him and intuitively knowing what he was feeling, and why, she put an arm around his waist and gave him a hug. Jed smiled and putting an arm across her shoulders he returned the hug and gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead.

"It's alright Thaddeus." She assured him. "He'll still be happy to hear about it from you."

Jed nodded but didn't say anything; his throat was feeling just a little too tight. Then his sad smiled broadened into a wide grin as Daisy tried to stand up.

She stretched out her very long and knobby kneed front legs and then just sat there, swaying and with legs trembling, wondering what the next step was supposed to be. Then she tucked her hind legs under her and gave a heave but as her hind legs lifted her bum up her front legs gave out and she did a nosedive into the straw and suddenly found herself stretched out on her side again.

Everybody chuckled at the antics, but Daisy didn't think it was funny at all. She pushed herself back up onto her belly again and then just lay there for a few moments and with ears flicking back and forth, she thought about her next strategic move. Well, if at first….the front legs got into position one more time and she heaved again and this time was a little more successful—a little more. She actually got up on all four legs this time, but they were shaking and wobbling and—OH! OH! She over-balanced and took a couple of desperate steps but everything crumpled and she toppled down into the straw again to lay there trembling and frustrated.

The after-birth had been delivered by this time and Karma-Lou instinctively did what she needed to do with it and then went back to nuzzling her foal. Little Daisy tossed her head and snorted but continued to lay where she'd fallen in order to give her new little body a chance to recuperate.

"How quickly should they be able to get to their feet?" Jed asked. "I mean, she's not even half an hour old and she's already trying."

"They need to get up pretty quickly." Jesse answered him. "For one thing, out on the range they're vulnerable to predators so instinctively they know they have to be up and moving as soon as possible. Also, it's vital that they start to nurse right away. There's a certain nutrient in the mare's milk that the foal must get within the first few hours of birth or they probably won't survive."

"Really?" Jed asked somewhat incredulously. He was learning something new all the time here.

"Hmmm." Jesse nodded. "If the foal doesn't get to her feet and start to nurse soon we'll have to milk the mare and then bottle feed the filly to make sure she gets it." Then he smiled. "But judging by the way things are going, I don't think it's going to be a problem."

Everybody looked back into the stall again and sure enough, little Daisy was once more struggling to her feet. She got up onto all four wobbling pegs and just stood there swaying for a bit, almost afraid to move just in case she collapsed again. Then she licked her lips and flapped her tail and took a couple of awkward but successful steps.

Karma brought her head around and licked and nuzzled her baby again, and that act in itself caused Daisy to stagger and sway but she was getting stronger every moment and she was actually able to stay up on her unsteady limbs. She looked around her, blinking and still feeling a little dazed. This was all so new, so many smells and sensations and little instincts tugging at her and it was all so overwhelming.

She could smell her mother and feel her warm tongue caressing her and she felt secure and safe, leaning up against her. But there was another smell attracting her and her little nostrils quivered and she tossed her head again and started to move around, back to her mother's flanks. The smell was stronger here and it was warm and sweet and it beckoned her and she started to push her little nose against her mother's belly, searching, seeking out the source of that enticing scent.

Unable to stand by any longer and watch the foal trying desperately to find nourishment, Beth came forward to assist. She spoke softly to Daisy, saying her name and caressing her body and running her hands along the soft neck and stroking her face. Then she leaned down and with her hands directed the soft little muzzle over to a tit. Daisy butted it and investigated it and then latched on and began to nurse.

Beth straightened up with a triumphant grin. She continued to stroke and caresses the foal while Daisy herself suckled contentedly, her little white tail flapping rapidly up and down and back and forth as the warm, strength giving formula flowed into her little body.

Unknown to Beth, her instinctive actions that morning of caressing and speaking to the foal would have a positive and life-long effect upon Daisy and her association with her human companion. Beth had bonded with the new foal just as Karma had done; caressing and stroking the baby, talking to her so that the foals first sensations were the sound of Beth's voice, the touch of her hand and the scent of her body. And long after being weaned, Daisy would continue to associate those sensations with the comfort of warm milk, with safety and security and contentment.

Daisy suckled hungrily until her little belly was full and round and then her long legs began to shake again and her eyelids became heavy. She barely had time to take two steps away from her mother, and as the sun came up Daisy went down and was instantly asleep. Everybody smiled and released sighs of contentment themselves. Despite the gender of the foal, Jesse was quite pleased with the outcome of the breeding and now that Daisy had done everything exactly the way she was supposed to he felt confident that all was good.

"Well." Belle sighed. "That was quite a start to the day! I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready for breakfast. And OH MY! Jay is probably hollering by now and I completely forgot about him!"

Everybody laughed at that as Belle excused herself from the barn and quickly made her way back to the house. Jed went around and threw flakes of hay into everybody's stalls while Jesse made sure that Karma had everything she would need for the next couple of hours. He would probably leave Karma and the baby inside for the day since both were quite exhausted from their ordeal and good old patient Buck could stay in as well to keep the new mother company. This was fine by him and he was actually looking forward to becoming better acquainted with the new addition to the herd once she was a little bit older.

Jed gave his big gelding an affectionate rub on the neck and then everyone headed back to the house to help with the breakfast preparations. Quite a start to the day indeed!

Twenty minutes later, just as breakfast was getting close to being ready they all heard a surrey pulling in to the yard and Jed headed out onto the porch to see who their visitor was on this fine spring morning. He smiled as he recognized the driver, but then his expression changed to concern as he noticed the man's condition.

"Jeez David, you look like you've been up all night."

"Yeah, just about." The good doctor admitted as he climbed wearily down from the surrey and came forward to tie his horse to the hitching rail by the porch. "I was hoping I could bum a cup of coffee off of Belle before tackling the drive home. I'm exhausted."

"I don't suppose that'll be a problem." Jed assured him. "C'mon in."

The two men entered the house and made their way over to the table that was already set for breakfast. Belle came in already carrying a fresh cup of coffee and with one look at the doctor instantly ushered him to a chair at the table.

"Oh for goodness sake, David!" She reprimanded him. "Sit down before you fall down!"

David smiled and nodded his thanks as he accepted the coffee and settled down into a chair. Jed sat down next to him and looked at his friend with concern while Beth set another place in front of him and everyone settled in to oatmeal and scrambled eggs and more coffee.

"Coffee is just fine for me Belle." David lamely insisted.

"Oh don't be silly." Belle responded. "You're here and its breakfast time. Besides, you look like death warmed over. What in the world have you been up to?"

David sighed and took another sip of coffee.

"I've spent most of the night over at the Jeffery's place." He admitted.

Belle paled noticeably. "Oh." She mumbled.

"Is everything alright?" Jesse asked.

"No." David admitted. "Unfortunately they've lost their baby."

"Oh no!" Said Belle, obviously disappointed. "How is Maribelle? Is she holding up alright?"

"Yes!" David brightened up as he confirmed that. "I was afraid it was going to be a repeat of the Robertson incident, but fortunately Maribelle is doing fine. She lost a lot of blood and will have to stay bedridden for awhile, but she's fine. Of course they're both heartbroken; naturally they were looking forward to welcoming a new baby into their lives."

Jesse and Belle quickly exchanged a sad glance and then carried on with the current topic.

"I'll drop by and see her tomorrow." Belle offered. "I'm sure she's all done in for today."

David nodded over a mouthful of oatmeal. He swallowed and then continued on. "Sam's mother is there thank goodness, and will be helping out. Fortunately she and Maribelle seem to get along quite well and another woman's support through this will be invaluable. Maribelle is strong and healthy. Once she's had time to recover, they can try again. It's not uncommon for a first pregnancy to fail, doesn't necessarily mean they can't go on to have other children." David was mumbling the last of this monologue more to himself than anyone else at the table as though he were trying to give himself encouragement that everything was not all bleak and bad news.

Belle smiled, seeing the pained look seep through the weariness in David's expression. This young man just took every failure so personally.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Belle commented. "They're young. They have lots of time."

David smiled a little and nodded, then glanced over at Jesse.

"Don't expect to see Sam today." He predicted. "He's pretty done in himself and probably isn't ready to leave his wife just yet."

"No, I wouldn't expect to see him." Jesse confirmed. "He can take as long as he likes. We'll manage until he's ready to come back to work.

David nodded and then the rest of the breakfast conversation just naturally switched over to the new arrival out in the barn. Beth was so full of exuberance and high energy that David couldn't help but be affected by it and by the time breakfast was over with he was allowing himself to be dragged out to the barn to view the sure to be sleeping foal.

Belle looked after her daughter, leading the way out the door, feeling disappointed that her kitchen helper was disappearing. Jed stood up and started gathering dishes.

"I'll help you clean up Belle." He offered. "Beth is so distracted she'd probably break everything anyways."

Belle smiled. "Thank you Thaddeus."

"Well." Jesse stood up and helped his son get down from his breakfast perch. "I suppose I'll get started on the morning chores. I'll see you outside when you're done Jed."

Jed nodded and carried on into the kitchen.

"What's on your mind Thaddeus?" Belle asked as they were busy washing and drying.

"What?" Jed asked, jerked out of his inner musings. "What makes you think there's something on my mind?"

Belle sent him a knowing smile. "You offer to help with the dishes and then stand here silent as a mouse and yet I can hear you thinking. Come on." She encouraged him. "I know you want to talk about it or you wouldn't be here."

Jed smiled. "Yeah, alright." He conceded the point. "It's just…." Then he sighed and tried to formulate his words. Belle waited patiently. "Life is so precious isn't it?"

Belle's eye brows went up; that comment surprised her. Then she smiled.

"Yes. It is." She agreed.

"I never realized." Jed continued. "I mean….of course I know that people get married and start families and all that, but….I never thought about how fragile it all is. How dangerous, really. Geesh, a woman literally is taking her life in her hands by having children!"

"Yes." Belle agreed. "Dangerous and glorious all at the same time."

"But why would you take the risk?" Jed asked, truly confused on this issue. "It seems that for every child that comes into the world there's another that doesn't make it and the mother just might not make it either. Why take the risk?"

Belle was silent for a few moments as she tried to formulate a constructive answer.

"Well, for one thing, it's the natural course of things." She said. "You meet that person whom you hope will be your life partner and well, children just happen. You don't think about the risks, it just happens and then you pray that all will be well." Then she smiled brightly. "And it's a wonderful thing Thaddeus when you welcome new life into your world. Children are precious and well worth the risk. Even if later on you sometimes feel like strangling them!"

Jed laughed out loud. "Yup! I can understand that." But then he went quiet again and Belle knew there was more to come.

"What is it Thaddeus?"

"Life is precious." He repeated quietly.

"Yes, it is." She again agreed. "It's never to be taken for granted." She hesitated a bit as she washed the dishes, knowing that it wasn't considered proper for a woman to discuss such personal matters with a young man, but Jed was family and he was questioning this issue. She decided to let etiquette slid in favour of helping him to understand. She continued on quietly. "We don't talk about it much, but Jesse and I know what Sam and Maribelle are going through right now. We've actually had five children."

"Five?" Jed asked, surprised.

"Yes." Belle nodded. "My first pregnancy ended pretty much the same as Maribelle's has. It was heartbreaking. Being young and inexperienced we were positive that we would never be able to have children after that!" Belle brightened up and she smiled. "Then the following year I became pregnant with Bridget and everything was fine. Then eighteen months later Bethany came along and we couldn't have been happier. Then two years after that I became pregnant again and everything seemed fine for the first six months, but then problems started showing themselves and the baby arrived too early. We had him in our lives for five days and then he died."

"Oh." Jed said quietly. He felt a little awkward having Belle speak so candidly with him on this very personal subject but he felt honoured as well, knowing that this could not be easy for her.

"As time went on Jesse and I came to accept that our family was complete." Belle continued. "And then fifteen years later—what do you know!" She laughed and smiled up at her young friend. "I have been blessed with a wonderful husband and three beautiful children and every day I thank the good Lord for the joys they have brought me. And that Thaddeus is why women accept the risks and cherish every child that comes to us. They are a precious gift."

Jed was silent for a few moments and Belle could tell that he was processing this information and putting it into the context of his own thoughts. Then he looked up and met Belle's eyes straight on and the pain she saw in his caused her to place a consolatory hand on his arm and her own eyes silently asked him the question; what's bothering you?

"I killed four people." Jed whispered, and then he swallowed and looked away from her, feeling ashamed of himself all over again. "I was young and stupid and so full of anger and I just didn't realize how precious and fragile life is."

He shook his head, creasing his brow in thought.

"I look back on what me and Heyes would get up to." He continued on, with a hint of a smile. "And I cringe now at the risks we used to take. But we never even thought about it—it was just fun! I mean even being chased by a posse, being shot at; it was all a big joke. We'd get back to the hideout laughin' and carryin' on with never a thought as to how dangerous our lives were. It took loosing friends, and then both of us actually getting seriously injured before we even started to question our choices.

Now! Jeez Belle, I'm scared all the time." He lowered his head and his voice went quiet. "I'm scared Heyes isn't going to make it. That with all these set backs, he's just going to give up on us and that'll be another life—gone. He doesn't see how valuable his life is; just the fact that we all simply survived being born is a miracle in itself!

Then I turn around and snuff out four lives. I know it's easy for me to justify that one was an accident and one was self-defense. But two of 'em I went looking for outa revenge and I had no right to do that; to take their lives away from them."

Belle smiled sadly and squeezed his arm. "I know." She said. "But that's just it isn't it? You were young and foolish and didn't realize. I know that it is a burden you will carry with you for the rest of your life. But you must find some way to forgive yourself Thaddeus—forgive yourself and move on. Because if you don't the guilt of it will eat you alive and cause you so much misery that your life will end up being wasted as well and there's no point to that."

"No, I don't suppose so." Jed agreed.

"And don't give up on Joshua." Belle encouraged him. "I know this is a difficult time for both of you but he does have support there; people who are looking out for him. Didn't you say he was doing better these days?"

Jed nodded. "Yeah."

"Have faith, Thaddeus." Belle said, then she hesitated not sure if she should suggest this or not, but then decided; well there's no harm in offering. "You know you're welcome to join me for Sunday Services, Thaddeus."

Jed grimaced slightly and became a little defensive. "That's not really my thing Belle."

"I know." Belle admitted. "But it might help you to deal with all of this, offer you another way of looking at things." She smiled at his discomfort. "I'm not suggesting that you devote your life to Christ or anything like that." She assured him. "Just take from it what you need to help you get through these difficult times. It might help."

Jed continued to silently dry the dishes, not knowing how to answer that.

"I don't get into town for services as often as I would like, but the offer is there." She said. "If you decided you would like to come with me one time, just say so and we'll go. No pressure. I leave it up to you—how's that?"

Jed nodded, and then he smiled and giving Belle a big hug he kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you. I will think about it. You're right though, in that I do need to find a way to deal with this stuff. And I know Heyes is going to services at the prison and is getting a lot out of it—it's kinda helping him to stay sane if you know what I mean."

Belle smiled and nodded. "I think that lady preacher as a lot to do with that!"

Jed laughed. "Yeah, I think you're right. She's done a lot to keep him interested!"

"And that's exactly what I'm talking about." Belle explained. "I'm sure that once Joshua is released he will no longer attend Sunday Services because he will feel that he no longer needs it. But it is giving him something that he needs for now and that is what matters. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll think about it." He agreed and then became reflective again. "I guess seeing that foal born this morning, and then Sam and Maribelle loosing their child, it just got me thinkin' about it all again is all."

"Well that's alright!" Belle assured him with a laugh. "If you never thought about things you would never figure anything out. You'd just go through life like a lump on a log! Just don't get so bogged down in your thoughts that you can't get out of them."

"I'll keep that in mind!"

Then David and Beth came into the kitchen and interrupted the discussion.

"OHH! Mama! I'm sorry." Beth was truly contrite. "Here, I'll finish up Thaddeus. I know Papa will need your help today if Sam's not coming in."

"Okay, fine." Jed agreed and handed the drying towel over to the young lady. Then he and David headed for the front door.

"That is certainly a fine filly out there." David commented. "I'm glad Beth showed her to me, today of all days; it sort of helps to end things on a positive note."

"Well that's good David." Jed smiled as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Are you sure you're going to be alright to drive home? You look like you're about to collapse. I could always saddle up Spike and ride in with you."

"No, that's alright Jed. Rudy knows the way home." David assured him as he yawned. "Will you be going to see Hannibal again soon?"

"Yeah." Jed told him. "I want to tell him about the new arrival. And I want to check up on those other two fellas who are there now." He smiled ruefully. "It seems I have more friends inside the prison than I do out."

David nodded ironically. "Well, I don't know the other two, but I would appreciate you passing on my greetings to Hannibal." He commented. "Tell him I'll write when I can, it's just that lately, keeping up with the practice and having a new baby at home ourselves—well, there just doesn't seem to be enough time in the day."

"Yeah, I'll let him know." Jed assured him. "He'll appreciate it, and he'll understand too."

"Thanks." Then David stepped up into his surrey and the two friends said goodbye for the time being.

David turned Rudy's head towards home and the little horse, ready for breakfast himself, set off at a steady trot and got himself and his human back to town safely.

Jed turned and headed towards the barn, knowing that despite their early morning excitement, he had a busy day ahead of him himself.

The following morning promised to be just as warm and pleasant a spring day as the previous one had been so Jesse decided that a couple of hours out on the pasture would be good for Karma and her foal. The other mare and foal as well as Buck had already been out for a while when Jesse entered the barn and slipped a halter onto the new mother.

He led Karma out of the barn with Daisy glued to her dam's side, curious about what was going on, but not in any way ready to lose the security of her mother. She moved quickly to keep up, her head held high and her tail flapping trying to take in all the new sights and sounds that assaulted her and finding it all very over whelming!

Rufus and the two little dogs trotted lazily along behind them and Daisy decided that she didn't like that at all. She kept looking back at them, snorting and arching her neck indignantly, knowing instinctively that they were predators and therefore not to be trusted.

Then they reached the pasture gate and Jesse slid the halter off from Karma's head and turned the mare loose. Karma snorted and set off at a trot to get out to her favorite patch of grass before the others ate it all up, and Daisy gave a little high pitched squeal in her anxiety that she was going to be left behind! She jumped forward and almost tripped over her own hooves in her hurry to keep up with mom—she just didn't know how to keep her long legs moving cooperatively so that she could stay up right and move forward all at the same time!

Once she caught up to her mother the new baby just could not believe her eyes or her nose or her ears! All three of those senses were on high alert, and then a soft breeze picked up and gently played with her tuft of forelock and the sense of touch kicked in as well. She stood by her mother's side, making sure to be in constant contact with her while she held her head high and with nostrils quivering and ears flicking back and forth she surveyed her new queendom.

It was then that she noticed the other horses in the pasture and though the two adults ignored the new filly for now, the little black colt that was about a week older than Daisy couldn't help but notice her. He stood by his mother with ears and tail up and locked eyes with the pretty little girl, wanting desperately to come over and introduce himself—and to play!

He gave a quick glance back to his mother who was of course grazing and then turned his attention back to the new filly. Finally he gave a little snort and with arched neck came trotting over to say 'hello'. Karma took note of him but wasn't too concerned. Daisy on the other hand didn't have a clue as to what to do so she quickly scrambled around to her mother's other side and then shyly peeked out from under her tail, not too sure about this at all.

Little 'Spade' was quite a brave fellow and he came right up to Karma and then stretched out his nose to the filly, wanting to get acquainted. Daisy hesitated and stood hiding behind her mother's tail, but finally curiosity won over and she tentatively stretched out her neck and the two babies touched noses. Then Spade gave a little squeal and with a buck and a kick of exuberance took off at a long legged gallop over to the other side of the field.

Once he reached the fence he stopped and turned and looked back at the filly, inviting her to come join him. Daisy still wasn't sure about that, but she did move out from under the tail covering and kept her eyes and ears on that colt, feeling more and more tempted to go play. Spade snorted once more and then came trotting back. They touched noses again and then Spade nuzzled her face and her neck and gave her a little nip on the withers, then spun on his little hind quarters and jumped away. This time he stopped about three yards off and turned to face Daisy again, tossing his head and giving a little rear. Well that did it and Daisy, tentatively at first moved away from her mother, but gathered courage as she went and before too long the foals were playing together and all worries were forgotten.

Daisy learned how to use her legs and only ended up face first in the grass four or five times before she finally had it figured out. Bucking ended up being another challenge and though she had no trouble with the take off, the landings had a lot to be desired, often coming down and losing her balance as her legs would go off in different directions and she'd end up toppling over yet again. But, as in most things; practice makes perfect and the more she ran and bucked and kicked and played the stronger her legs became and the more her balance improved.

Then when play was done, both foals would return to their respective mothers to nurse and replenish their energy supply. Once that was accomplished, Daisy's legs literally collapsed out from under her and she stretched out in the warm grass and was instantly asleep. The sun was shining, a soft breeze was whispering across her baby fuzz and with the reassuring sound of her mother grazing close by, Daisy was content and life was grand.

On the second day out in the field, Buck decided it was time to introduce himself to the newcomer and nonchalantly started to graze his way over towards his friend and her little filly. Karma noticed him coming their way and started to get a little nervous. Yes, Buck was her friend but Daisy was her first baby and she wasn't really sure what to expect. She didn't even let the other mare come too close, fearful that she might try to steal Daisy away from her.

Karma continued to graze, but as the big gelding came closer she laid her ears back and still keeping her nose close to the ground she sent a couple of threatening head tosses his way and hoped he'd get the message. He didn't. He kept sauntering over and though he had dropped the pretense of grazing, he still kept his head lowered and his ears up and with tail casually swishing; he closed the gap between them.

Daisy watched him come and wasn't too sure if she liked this or not. She was very curious about the big fellow, but he wasn't her mother and she didn't know what to expect. Spade seemed comfortable with him and would often buck and play around him and even go so far as to nibble on his tail and the big fellow just patiently paid him no mind and continued to graze. On the other hand Daisy could feel her mother's anxiety level increase as the other horse came closer, so of course that made the little filly nervous as well—cause if her mom was nervous, well there must be a reason!

Finally when Buck was within a couple of yards of them Karma laid her ears flat and with mouth open and teeth bared she lunged at her old friend.

'Keep away!' She was saying, in no uncertain terms.

Buck deftly hopped out of her way and then turned to face her again, head up and ears pricked.

'Karma, it's me.' He assured her. 'I'm not going to hurt your baby."

'Well, I know it's you!' Karma informed him. 'But I just don't know about this. She's still very young and vulnerable—and my mother told me that stallions will kill a foal that isn't theirs, so you just stay away!'

Buck snorted and shook his head in disgust. 'For one thing, I'm not a stupid stallion!' He reminded her. 'Those idiots only have one thing on their minds and I wouldn't trust one any further than I could kick him!'

'Well….I don't know.' Karma tossed her head and kept her ears back, but she didn't lunge at him again. 'It's just that she's my first and I'm scared to death that something is going to happen to her. I don't know what I would do if she got hurt!'

'But I'm not going to hurt her, you know that.' Buck continued to be reassuring. 'I just want to say hello to our new herd member.'

Karma relaxed her ears a little bit, but she was still uncertain. Then the decision was made for them when little Daisy decided for herself that she was ready to meet this tall dark and handsome stable mate. With neck stretched out and little nose quivering she stepped forward and nuzzled the big dark shoulder belonging to the old gelding.

Karma's ears pricked up with surprise as she watched her daughter introduce herself.

'Oh!' Was about all she could get out.

'Oh my.' Buck was flattered. 'Hello little one.'

And Buck swung his head around and gently began to explore the soft creamy fuzz with his nose. Daisy became braver and stepped up along beside him and the two of them explored one another, taking in each others scent. Little Daisy started to move her mouth in a semblance of a sucking motion, indicating her vulnerability, but willingness to accept him as dominate, so long as he please didn't hurt her. They touched noses and blew into the others nostrils and the introduction was complete.

'What a fine filly she is.' Buck complimented his friend. 'She's very pretty.'

'Of course she is!' Karma was back to her old confident self. 'She's mine after all!'

Buck gave a sigh and sat down on a back hoof. Here we go!

'Just look at those strong legs!' Karma continued. 'Not to mention the length of them! And that deep chest! Oh she's going to be a runner that's for sure. She's going to be fast as the wind—I'll probably be the only one who will be able to keep up with her! And look at her conformation, there's no beating it—she's perfect in every way! I know my young human is pleased as can be and I think they are going to be the best of friends. And the boss human is very happy with her as well—but I mean, why would he not be? She is my foal after all….' And so on and so on.

Buck tossed his head and listened to this monologue and was inwardly pleased. Daisy was a fine filly—no doubt about it and it pleased the big gelding to know that his friend had found something to please her and to make her feel worthwhile again. Ever since her human had ridden away from her that day two years ago she had felt out of sorts—like it was her fault as though she had displeased him somehow and he had turned his back on her.

Oh the young Miss Beth had filled in the gap in many ways and Karma was fond of her, but the mare's true bond had been with the man and she had felt very much alone for a long time after he left. But now, with little Daisy to fuss over and time distancing the memory Karma was becoming more and more content with her life at the Double J. Things were good again and her life before coming to this place was fading more and more away into the past until it no longer even existed anymore. She was content.

The next morning, Jed was up early to get a good start on the day. It was his intention to feed the horses their breakfast and then walk up the hill at the back of the house to do his daily target practice before the barn chores distracted him from it. When Sam was there Jed often found time in the mid-afternoon for his shooting, but these days the schedule had to be somewhat altered so he found a way to fit in a half hour of practice before settling in to his own breakfast.

Not surprisingly Jed came out of his bedroom, strapping on his holster to find Beth already up and with the coffee brewing. She was eager as well to get out to the barn to help with the feeding and greet a good morning to the new foal. It was going to be a long time before this got old.

Beth smiled cheerfully at her friend and handed him a cup of coffee.

"I was wondering when you were going to finally get outa bed!" She scolded him.

Jed's eye brows went up. It was an hour earlier than his usual rising time and the sun had hardly put in an appearance yet. There was still the night chill in the air!

"You're in an awful hurry!" He commented. "That filly isn't going anywhere you know."

"I know." Beth conceded with a smile. "But I figure you're going to want to practice your shooting before breakfast as well, and you know that I like to watch you do that when I can."

Jed smiled and nodded. "Yup." He agreed. "Alright, c'mon then. Let's get those horses fed."

The two friends headed down the steps and walked over towards the first barn just as the sun was chasing away the night shadows. It was going to be another beautiful spring morning and the birds were already welcoming the day with their loud chirps and restless flutterings.

"When are you going to see Joshua again?" Beth asked as she followed her friend.

"I was going to go this weekend, but with Sam away I don't know if your Pa would be too happy with that." Jed informed her. "Why? You want to come this time?"

"Yes!" Beth was adamant. "You keep saying 'next time' and then the next time comes and there's another reason why I can't come with you!"

"I know Beth. I'm sorry." Jed apologized. "Things just kinda got busy there for a while, you know that."

"I know. But do you think this time I can actually come with you?"

"Yeah." Jed nodded. "I think it would be good. This way you can tell Joshua all about Daisy rather than just writing it to him in a letter. I think he'd like that."

Beth smiled. "Yes. That's what I was thinking too."

They walked into the barn and the first thing Jed noticed was that there was no nickering from the occupants, demanding their breakfast. The second thing was that every horse in the barn was tense, letting it be known that something in their domain just wasn't as it should be. Jed felt rather than heard a slight rustling behind him followed by a gasp from Beth that was cut off in mid stream.

Jed spun, his gun whisking into his hand of its own accord and pointing towards the source of the sound. The first thing he saw was Beth's brown eyes wide with fear and shock and then the grimy masculine hand that covered her mouth and the arm that came across her left shoulder from behind, pressing her back against the man holding her. Then he saw the gun pointed directly at him and his own gun pointing back and the two men locked eyes. The threat in the air was undeniable.

"Let her go Wheat." Kid growled his gun steady and aimed directly at the other man's forehead. "Let her go."

"Not on your life Kid." Wheat snarled back. "I need to talk to you, but I ain't doin' it without an edge!"

"You ain't got no edge Wheat." Kid informed him. "You let her go or I'll take you out right now—and you know I won't miss."

Beth stood perfectly still, looking into her friends blue eyes—like death turned to ice and she knew the difference then, between him practicing and shooting at tin cans and now drawing his gun for real, and meaning it! She felt a shiver of fear go through her, but the fear wasn't for herself; it was for the man standing behind her because she knew that he was on a fine line right now. The fine line between life and death and that if he did not make the right choice, and make it soon his next step would be into oblivion.

She felt it then; the doubt go through him. And then he knew it, he knew that even though he had a hostage and his gun was aimed directly at the Kid, he knew he held the losing hand. Beth felt the smothering grip across her mouth loosen and then the arm release its hold on her. She gasped in a breath of air and then quickly stepped away from him and moved in behind her friend.

The two men continued to glare at each other, neither one dropping their aim or relaxing their stance.

"Drop your gun Wheat." Kid ordered. "Put it away."

"If I do that how do I know you won't just shoot me where I stand?" Wheat threw back at him.

"You come in here and you grab my girlfriend and then you accuse me of being the threat!?"

All three people skipped a beat at Jed's terminology but then they were past it and back to the matter at hand.

"You betrayed us!" Wheat hissed at him in his high pitched voice. "You set us up!"

"I didn't!" Jed practically yelled back at him. "Now I ain't talkin' anymore about this until you drop your gun. I ain't askin' ya' Wheat—I'm tellin' ya'! DROP IT! NOW!"

Wheat hesitated for a beat, then he tipped the muzzle of his gun upwards and releasing the hammer he slipped it back into his holster.

"Alright Kid, we'll play it your way." Wheat backed off. "But you better have a real good reason as to why you was on that train!"

Jed breathed out his tension. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot Wheat, the last thing he needed was another death on his conscience. He relaxed just a bit and then releasing the hammer on his own gun, he also returned it to its holster.

"I'm tellin' ya' Wheat I was on that train goin' ta' see Heyes." Jed insisted. "You know that was the first train of the season that was sure to get through, that's why Morrison picked it as a trap! He knew you'd be hungry for it!"

"Why should I believe that?" Wheat questioned him, still obviously very angry.

"Why would I betray you?!" Jed was almost pleading with him. "Why would I do that?!"

"You'd do it if it meant gettin' Heyes outa prison sooner!" Wheat insisted. "Heyes, now he wouldn't do that—but you? I never trusted you. The only person in our gang you were loyal to was Heyes! How many times did you threaten me if I so much as questioned anything he said?! How many times did you pull a gun on any of us if we didn't fall in line?! No; I never trusted you Kid and I wouldn't put it past you at all to turn on every one of us if it meant getting' Heyes outa prison sooner!"

Jed stood silently, trying to allow the harsh accusations to sink in. He'd never thought of things that way, it never occurring to him that the other members of the gang only saw him as a threat—as Heyes' hired gunman. The realization of that hit him hard and the fact that Wheat now stood before him, accusing him of the ultimate betrayal cut him to the quick.

"I wouldn't do that Wheat." Jed quietly insisted. "I'd never do that. Jeez, that was one of the worst days of my life; Morrison forcing me to come out and identify…." Jed's voice caught as he remembered those terrible events.

The Kid's obvious hurt and distress over the accusation and the memories it brought back did more than anything else to convince Wheat that maybe the ex-leader was telling the truth. The outlaw relaxed his stance a little bit more and then sighed, shaking his head at the deplorable turn of events.

"Okay, alright, maybe you didn't have anything to do with it. But ya' gotta see how it looked that way!"

Kid nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. But I give ya' my word Wheat—I had nothin' to do with it."

"So what's goin' on Kid? I know Kyle is doin' time, but did Lobo make it?" Wheat finally asked, his thoughts turning to more practical matters now.

"Yeah, he pulled through." Kid assured him. "He got eight years though."

"Ahh, jeez!" Wheat moaned.

"Heyes is watchin' out for 'em though Wheat." Kid told him. "He'll look after 'em."

"Yeah, well that's fine for Kyle." Wheat complained. "But Lobo don't like nobody lookin' after him—you know that!"

"Yeah, I know." Kid agreed then sighed and changed the subject. "You got money Wheat? You got food?"

"Yeah." Wheat told him. "I thought I would head over Kettle Creek way and join up with them boys for a while."

"Aww, Wheat no." Kid groaned. "Ya' gotta stay outa Wyoming. Even here or Montana isn't gonna be safe for ya' anymore. Ya' gotta disappear!"

"No way!" Wheat insisted. "I wanna stay around for when Kyle gets out! I gotta wait for him!"

"Wheat ya' ain't thinkin' straight!" Jed threw back at him. "Morrison's gonna be comin' after ya'! I'm surprised he hasn't already tracked ya' down. You've been up against him before Wheat—ya' know what he's like! He won't quit until he's got ya', and he'll kill ya' Wheat. He won't hesitate and you know it!"

"But why?!" Wheat asked incredulously and then posed the question again; "What the hell's goin' on? The reward on me ain't that much—why would he bother?"

"Cause the reward is just the beginning." Kid explained. "Governor Moonlight hired him and is paying him good money to get rid of the outlaw gangs in Wyoming. Devil's Hole was just the beginning, he's not gonna quit with that. He'll take down the Kettle Creek Gang and the Turner Gang and all the rest of 'em too. He's tenacious Wheat; that trap he set up to get me and Heyes was over a year in the making and then six months of planning to take down Devil's Hole! You being the leader of Devil's Hole, he's not gonna let you slip through the net—he'll be comin' after you Wheat, and sooner or later he's gonna get ya'!"

"Jeez Kid!" Wheat's tone was rising with his stress. "What am I gonna do? The west and outlawin' is all I know! I got nowhere's else!"

"You could turn yourself in." Jed suggested, though he knew that wasn't going to go over well.

"What!" Wheat exclaimed. "To Morrison!?"

"NO! Not to Morrison!" Kid denied adamantly. Then he sighed and thought about it for a moment. "I could go with ya' to the Sheriff here in Brookswood." He suggested. "Sheriff Jacobs is a pretty good sort. Then I'll telegraph Lom to come and get ya' and take ya' back. That way Morrison won't be able to get near ya'."

"But I'd still end up goin' ta' prison!" Wheat pointed out. "I ain't doin' that! If Lobo got eight then I'd end up gettin' ten ta' twelve and I ain't doin' that!"

"You don't know that Wheat!" Kid insisted. "You could get out sooner than that and then you'd have a clean slate—you could start over!"

"AT WHAT!?" Wheat hissed. "Like I said 'outlawin's all I know! I ain't got no rich friends backin' me up—all I got is me!"

"You don't know where it could lead to Wheat!" Kid pointed out. "Opportunities come along! Give it a chance. Give yourself a chance!"

"NO!" Wheat was adamant. "I ain't given' myself up—I ain't goin' to prison!"

Kid sighed and his shoulders slumped as he relented.

"Okay." He said. "But then ya' gotta disappear. Ya' can't wait on Kyle. Head to Mexico or up to Canada, but ya' can't stay here Wheat. You'll die if ya' do."

"Fine." Wheat conceded. "I'll disappear. Cause I ain't goin' ta' prison!"

Kid nodded. "I've got some money up at the house and I'll gather together some food for ya', you're gonna need all you can pack. I'll be right back. Just wait here and stay outa sight. C'mon Beth."

He held his hand out to her and with a small smile towards the outlaw, Beth slipped passed him and she and Jed headed back up to the house.

"Those are real good watch dogs we have here Beth." Jed complained. "We get an outlaw hiding out in the barn and not a peep outa them."

"I know." Beth conceded quietly. "It's not Rufus' fault. He's getting old and deaf and the other two don't start barking unless he does."

"Maybe it's about time we thought about getting another dog." Jed suggested as they headed up the steps and into the house.

"Oh no!" Beth was mortified. "That would just break Rufus' heart! We can't just get another dog to replace him until after he's gone. How often are we going to have outlaws showing up at our place anyways?"

"Well, I can think of a couple of occasions already."

Fifteen minutes later Jed returned to the barn with the supplies but Wheat was gone, disappearing into the wind and leaving no trace behind him.

Ten days later Jed once again found himself on the train heading towards Laramie. He had taken to reading the paper or finding something else to do to occupy his mind on these trips of late, since staring out the window at the passing landscape only brought with it a cascade of sad memories. As it happened, on this particular trip he had a lot of distraction to keep his mind off things and actually found himself wishing for some peace and quiet!

"Yes, at first I was rather scared." Beth was telling her friend. "But once I realized that Thaddeus knew the man and had the situation under control then it wasn't so bad."

"You had the situation under control?" Clementine sent a skeptical look over to Kid. "You and one of your ex-outlaw buddies were pointing guns at each other and threatening to shoot the barn apart and you had things under control?"

"Gee Clem—you wanna speak up a bit, I don't think the people in the next car heard ya'!"

"Oh come off it!" She waved a dismissive hand at him. "Everybody knows who you are—get over yourself!"

"There's still such a thing as being discreet!" Jed was starting to get angry. "And when we're in with Heyes you let me tell him about what happened. One wrong word and that guard could be all over it!"

"Fine." Clem commented, in a bit of an indignant snit. "I know when to keep my mouth shut."

Kid snorted.

"Will you two stop fighting?!" Beth demanded. "And to think that I was once jealous of you, certain that you were trying to move in and take my man!"

Two sets of eyebrows shot up and Beth smiled coyly.

"I heard you tell that man in the barn that I was your 'girlfriend'." She reminded Thaddeus.

"Oh….well. I just meant…"

"He called you his 'girlfriend'?!" Clem exclaimed

Jed started to feel ganged up on. "NO!...I mean—I did…but…"

Beth smiled and then took pity on her friend and she placed a reassuring hand on his knee.

"I'm just teasing you Thaddeus." She assured him. "It was a stressful moment and I'm certainly not going to hold you to it."

"Oh, okay." Jed commented, not too sure if he was happy with that outcome or not.

"Thank goodness for that!" Clem expostulated and was on the receiving end of two sets of raised eye brows herself. "I just meant that one wedding a year is more than enough!"

Beth smiled knowingly. "Bridget starting to wear on your nerves?"

"Oh you don't know the half of it!" Clem complained. "Morning till night! All day long all she talks about is this silly wedding! I'll be so glad when it's all over and done with then she and Steven can go play 'house' on their own time!"

"I think the whole idea of gettin' married is that they'd no longer be playin' at it." Jed remarked caustically. "I think by then they're pretty serious."

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Clem shot back at him. "I do like Bridget, but I am so ready to have my house to myself again."

Both Jed and Beth smiled at Clem's predicament. Young ladies in love can be so irritating sometimes.

Heyes was really looking forward to Kid's visit this time. He had received a letter from Belle letting him know about the Jefferies' loosing their baby and that Thaddeus would be delayed getting away from the ranch until Sam was able to return to work. Heyes understood that, but he still held a bit of a grudge against Sam and though he tried to be sympathetic to their loss, he was having a real hard time feeling sorry for him.

When the door opened to the visiting room Heyes was surprised, but pleased in a way as well, to see Beth and Clem step in before his partner followed them. Murrey went and tapped on the door leading into the prison proper and when Davis answered he let it be known that they would need more chairs.

Once that was accomplished Kid helped to get the ladies seated and sent Heyes a rather exasperated look which caused the inmate to smile to himself. Obviously Kid was finding it rather tiring to have the two of them underfoot and instead of Clem being along to chaperone for Beth, Curry was the one having to keep a constant eye on the two ladies.

"How ya' doin' Kid?"

Kid rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, I guess." He responded. "It's good to see ya' Heyes."

"Yeah."

Beth smiled over at him. "I wanted to come out to visit you a lot sooner than this." She told him rather contritely. "But Thaddeus wouldn't let me. He kept saying that there was too much going on—I suppose he thought that I would just be in the way!" And she sent a rather accusing glance over at the person in question.

"Well he was right." Heyes stood up for his cousin. "Things did get a little crazy there for a while and you were better off away from it." Then he smiled to lessen the reprimand. "But it's good to see you again." He grinned over at the other lady. "It's even good to see you Clem!"

"Oh well that's a fine 'howdy-doo'!" She complained. "I come all this way just to receive a greeting like that? Why do I even bother?"

Heyes smiled impishly. "You love me and you know it!"

Clem softened her stance; like most of us she couldn't resist that man when he turned on his charm. "Well of course I love you, you ninny." She admitted. "You two are my dearest friends. Just don't be taking me for granted or I may not show up for your wedding day!"

"MY wedding day!?" Heyes' brows went up. "Since when am I getting married!?"

"Oh you know what I mean!" Clem insisted. "Just don't assume I'm always going to be around to help you out, that's all I'm saying!"

Heyes and Kid exchanged humourous glances. To their collective memories it was Clem who was always getting them into trouble, not helping them to get out!

"I swear!" Beth interrupted. "The way you three are always at each other's throats I'm surprised you're speaking to one another at all!"

Kid laughed. "Oh, it's just in fun Beth." He assured her. "When you've known someone since you were knee high to a hitching rail you don't take insult too quickly."

"Well I suppose." Beth conceded, still thinking they were all crazy. Then she smiled over at Joshua. "Did Momma mention to you the good news in her letter?"

"You mean the good news that the world has been saved from Sam's offspring?"

"HEYES!" Kid couldn't believe that his cousin had just said that.

"Sorry."

Kid scowled at him, not believing for one second that he was sorry.

"NO!" Beth scolded him. "About Karma's foal!"

"Oh." Heyes smiled. "Yes, she did mention it, but she left the details for you to fill in."

Beth beamed. "She had a beautiful filly Joshua! A palomino. She has a white star on her forehead, but it's hard to tell if she has any white socks yet. I guess we won't really know that until she sheds out her baby hair. I was right there for the birth and everything. I know you'll be pleased with her Joshua, she is such a nice little girl."

"I'm sure I will be pleased with her." Heyes commented. "But what about your Pa? Is he pleased with her? I thought he was hoping for a colt."

"Yes, he was a little disappointed about that." Beth admitted. "But overall, he's very happy with her and will breed for the colt next year."

"How does he know he won't get another filly?"

"I don't know." Beth admitted with a shrug. "But he seems quite confident that we won't."

Heyes glanced over at Kid, and he shrugged his shoulders as well. He had to agree with Beth on that as well; Jesse seemed pretty sure.

"Does she have a name?" Heyes asked.

"Daisy."

Heyes laughed. "Yeah, that suits!" Then his expression turned a little melancholy. "How's the mother? How is Karma?"

"She's doing really well Joshua." Beth assured him. "She seems really happy being a mother, she's just so proud of her foal. And Buck is enjoying the babies too!"

"Really?" Heyes asked, glancing over at his cousin.

Kid smiled. "Yeah." He agreed. "That old gelding really seems to like being out with the youngsters. Go figure."

"Hmmm. Imagine that."

"How are Lobo and Kyle doing Heyes?" Kid asked, changing the subject. "Are they settling in okay?"

Heyes' light-hearted demeanor dropped and Kid almost regretted asking him, but Heyes understood him wanting to know.

"Well, you know Kyle—he just carries on being Kyle." Heyes answered with a bit of a smile. "He's doing okay and I'm keeping an eye on him. I expect he'll be outa here in no time and looking for a job."

"Ha! Yeah."

"But Lobo." Heyes sadly shook his head. "He's not well Kid. He got broke up real bad by that horse and even Doc Morin is worried that he won't last the winter. His lung was damaged, and even now he coughs all the time so if he were to get pneumonia…"

"Oh."

"Plus he's so hardheaded." Heyes continued. "He fights against the rules, fights against the other inmates, fights against the guards. He's already been in the dark cell twice and I don't know how many bruises he's sporting from the bully clubs! I don't know what the hell he's thinking!"

"Maybe the same thing you were Heyes!" Kid reminded him. "Seems to me you were doing the same things!"

"I wasn't that bad."

"Yeah Heyes, ya' were."

"Oh."

Kid gave a frustrated sigh. "Well, if ya' get the chance say 'hi' to them for me. I'll come and see them as soon as they're allowed visitors."

Heyes smiled. "Yeah, I'll let them know. I don't think either of 'em has anyone else. The Devil's Hole Gang was all the family they had."

Then Heyes and Curry locked eyes for a moment, each of them acknowledging their own good fortune in that they had one another and a family as such to go home to.

"Speaking of which." Curry began and gave Heyes a look that only Heyes would understand. "I had another family member stop by the other day."

"Ahh." Heyes nodded. Wheat had shown up.

"He was still angry about a misunderstanding between us, but we talked about it and he's good now."

"Oh, good." Heyes responded. "So, what's he up to these days?"

"Moving around a lot." Kid told him. "I suggested that he go visit a mutual friend of ours, you know—take care of some old business. But he wasn't ready to do that."

"Oh. Too bad. There's not too many options open for him these days. Times are getting tough."

"Yeah, I pointed that out to him." Kid continued. "But, you know how stubborn he can get."

Heyes grinned. "Yup. You expect to see him again?"

"Probably not Heyes."

Heyes nodded sadly. "No. Probably not." Then he took a deep breath and glanced back at Murrey. Murrey returned his gaze. Heyes smiled at him and then turned his attention back to the Kid. "Things have taken a turn for the worse around here too." He said, and without turning this time he shifted his eyes towards the guard. Kid waited. Obviously it was something he wasn't willing to speak about given the current situation. "I know it's a long trip, but could you ask Steven to come by again?" He continued. "I need to speak with him."

Now Kid was worried. "Yeah Heyes, I can do that." He agreed. "Do you want me to come back with him?"

"Yeah, if you can." Heyes answered. "That'd be good."

"Why are you two being so vague?" Clem piped in. "I can't even figure out what you're talking about!"

Heyes, Curry and Beth all sent her incredulous looks. Even Beth could understand their reasons for covertness and wondered why in the world Clem was being so obtuse! Then Beth quickly picked up the conversation to get things flowing again and cover up the blunder.

"Is Sister Julia here today?" She asked.

"No, I don't believe she is Beth." Heyes answered her. "The infirmary has been pretty quiet these days so she hasn't been coming over as often."

"That's too bad." Beth was disappointed. "I was hoping to see her."

"You could always swing by the convent." Heyes suggested and then he smiled. "I believe you know where it is."

Beth grinned. "Yes, alright." She said, accepting the slight teasing. "I might just do that." Then she glanced over at Thaddeus. "Would we have time?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed agreed. "You'll have to show me where it is though, I've never been there."

"No problem."

Murrey shifted his weight and Curry sighed.

"I guess it's time for us to be heading out." He announced.

"Already?!" Clem complained. "We just got here!"

"Hour's up." Kid explained.

"Well how would you know that Kid?" She demanded. "You're not carrying a watch!"

"I just know Clem, alright!" Kid was starting to get frustrated all over again. "Just take my word for it!"

"Fine!" She retorted. "Geesh, no need to get testy!"

Everyone started getting to their feet and then for the first time, Beth realized that Joshua was wearing shackles. She had wondered why he wasn't bringing his hands up onto the table but it had not occurred to her that he didn't do it because he couldn't.

"Oh." She commented, not being able to hide the tinge of shock in her voice.

Heyes sent her a regretful smile. "The lot of a convict." He said, trying to make it sound light.

"Yes, I suppose." Beth agreed. "Silly of me. I just didn't realize. I wanted to give you a hug goodbye." Then she glanced hopefully over to Murrey. "May I give him a hug goodbye?"

Murrey actually sounded repentant. "No, Miss, I'm sorry." He informed her. "You need to stay on the other side of the table there."

"Oh." She mumbled, her disappointment obvious. Then she looked into her friends' dark brown eyes and her heart went out to him. "I miss you so much Joshua. May I come back to see you again?"

Heyes smiled, wondering how he could have been so proud as to deny his friends the right to come and visit with him if they so wished to do so. There were so many other inmates here who had no one who cared enough to make the trip and here Heyes had been pushing his friends away because of his own shame and embarrassment.

"I'd like that Beth." Heyes assured her. "I want to hear first hand all about Daisy. And I understand that we actually do have a wedding coming up this summer and I want to hear all about that as well."

Beth smiled broadly when Heyes mentioned Daisy, but then rolled her eyes at mention of her sister's wedding nuptials. She for one will be quite happy when the whole thing was over and done with.

Clem rolled her eyes as well. "Oh brother!" She voiced Beth's opinion completely. "Well, better you than me!"

Then Murrey stepped forward, and taking Heyes by the arm began to lead him back towards the door.

"I'll see ya' Heyes." Kid said. "Steven and I will get back as soon as we can."

"Yeah, okay Kid." Heyes answered. "Ladies. Thanks for coming; it was real good to see ya'."

"Bye Heyes."

"Goodbye Joshua."

Then Heyes was taken back into the prison proper and the door leading to the outside world was shut behind him.

As the three friends were riding back into Laramie in the rented surrey, Clem was sitting back and chatting away endlessly about how much better Heyes was looking these days and isn't it a good thing that he was staying out of trouble now. She didn't really notice that the couple up front was not responding to anything she was saying and in fact, neither of them was really listening to her at all.

Both Jed and Beth were thinking back on their visit with Heyes and though neither of them said anything to the other, they were both thinking about the same thing. What had Heyes meant 'things were taking a turn for the worse'? That had not sounded good. Beth was thinking that she would ask Sister Julia to keep an extra special eye on her friend over the next little while. Jed was thinking that he would stop by Kenny's place before leaving town and ask the guard to keep an extra eye on Heyes over the next little while.

Something had changed and neither one of them liked the sound of it at all. Clementine chatted on.

To Be Continued.


	26. Chapter 26

Departures

"What are your concerns?"

"I'm not really sure." Heyes admitted feeling a little ashamed of himself now, having dragged his friend and his lawyer back here on nothing more than just a 'feeling'. "It's been a couple of weeks and nothing has happened so, maybe I was just over-reacting."

"A couple of weeks since what?" Steven asked.

Heyes' face tightened up as he tried to assemble his thoughts and explain the dark forebodings that had taken hold of him.

"Warden Mitchell has been backing off of me all through this past winter mainly because of the pressure he was receiving from my lawyer." And he acknowledged Steven. "And my friends, letting him know that he was being 'watched'. Thanks to you people, this winter has been a lot easier for me without the antagonism from the warden and the senior guard—a lot easier!

"Then you went to see Governor Moonlight to push the matter even further and try to get me pardoned. Well, we all know how that turned out!" The other two gentlemen nodded agreement. "But what you probably don't know." Heyes continued. "Is that the governor then sent a letter to our wonderful warden informing him of the meeting that you had with him and that he basically threw you out of his office.

"Then he further emphasized that not only had he refused to grant me a pardon but that he was supportive of Warden Mitchell's policies of prison management and basically gave Mr. Mitchell the go ahead to conduct matters here in any way that he deemed according."

This piece of information was met with silence. Heyes' anxiety was obvious though he was trying to cover it up. He really had nothing to go on here, except a gut feeling—but he had learned to trust his gut feelings.

"So." Heyes continued. "Mitchell basically told me that he's no longer going to be concerned about outside pressures; that if the governor of the territory is not going to give in to the 'rants and raves' of my supporters, then why should he?"

This statement was met with groans from the other two men in the room and Heyes nodded, feeling a little more confident now that his concerns were being validated.

"I have to admit that I'm a little bit worried that Warden Mitchell will find a way to exact some kind of revenge upon me for the inconveniences that we have placed upon him this past year. Goodness knows what he'll do if you take this case to a hearing."

"Are you saying that you don't wish for us to take this to a formal hearing?" Steven asked him.

Heyes sat back with a sigh. He looked at his cousin and Jed returned his gaze, sending Heyes silent support for whichever course he wanted his friends to take.

"I don't know." Heyes finally admitted. "We already knew that if we put pressure on the powers that be, that it could have serious repercussions for me, being at their mercy as I am—so to speak. On the other hand, if you back off and don't push then I'll be in here for the rest of my life."

"Yes, Mr. Heyes." Steven agreed. "Unfortunately you are the one taking the biggest risk here. As you say; if Governor Moonlight has given Warden Mitchell free rein in his policies for running the prison, then us continuing to push to a formal hearing could result in a difficult time for you. Once the hearing is concluded and if we are successful in forcing this issue then it would definitely be to your benefit but in the meantime, Warden Mitchell could do with you as he pleases and we would have no recourse available to us to stop him."

Heyes nodded quietly. "That's pretty much what Warden Mitchell took a great deal of pleasure to inform me of."

"Awwww Jeez!" Kid sat back, running a hand through his curls; it felt as though they were all right back at the beginning again. That all their work and efforts had been for naught.

"What would you like us to do, Mr. Heyes?" Steven asked.

Again Heyes sat back and thought about it. If his own hands had been free to run across his scalp he would have done so. He sighed heavily.

"I really don't want to get hurt anymore." He admitted. "On the other hand, I sure don't want to spend the rest of my life in here either."

Again silence settled over the room like a thick blanket. The lawyer and the friend sat and waited for the convict to decide what risks he was willing to take, and what life he was willing to accept.

Heyes sighed again. "Well, the sensible thing to do would be to back off." Heyes was thinking out loud. "Lay low until a new governor came into office and then try again."

Then Heyes smiled. He looked over at his partner with a mischievous glint to his eye.

"On the other hand, in the words of my overly protective partner—'nobody has ever accused us of being too sensible now have they?'"

Kid smiled and nodded. It didn't surprise him; Heyes never was one to just sit back and wait.

"All or nothing, gentlemen!" Heyes announced. "Consequences be damned! I have no intentions of spending the rest of my life in this hell hole!"

The train right back into Colorado was spent mostly in silence, the two men each lost in their own thoughts.

Jed, of course was thinking about his partner's situation and all round safety being trapped as he was and under the control of people who did not have his best interests at heart. Jed always hated the ride back home after his visits with Heyes because he would end up feeling impotent; that he wasn't doing enough, that he wasn't saying enough, and he wasn't getting things happening fast enough. And there was always that little twinge of doubt as to whether or not he would be seeing his partner again. Heyes' situation was so unpredictable that even with Kenny there to watch out for him, well, things could still happen.

Steven had a number of things on his mind. One, of course was the situation with his client. Now that they had re-affirmed the go-ahead for the hearing, he would need to get onto it even more than he had been. Even at that, just as with all things political, it was going to take time to arrange the meeting; setting up the date was just the first hurdle. After that he had to arrange for evidence to be presented to him so that he could go through it all and decide what was worth bringing forth and in what order and what would just be set aside as redundant or irrelevant. Then he had to organize those people who were willing to come forward to deliver their own personal testimonies and to make sure that what they had to say was going to help their case and not hurt it. All of this would take time and energy and focus.

Then, he had his upcoming wedding to deal with! As is so often the case Bridget was the one doing most of the organizing for that—and she had plenty of help too. Her mother, her sister and Clementine were all pitching in to make sure the big day came together as it should.

Steven smiled at all the commotion going on with the four ladies. Despite both Clem and Beth insisting that the wedding was a nuisance, and how happy they'll both be once the day was over and done with, they had ended up jumping in with both feet and doing everything they could to assist in the organizing of the big day.

So much so that poor Bridget was betwixt and between as to whom she should ask to be her Maid of Honour. Normally it's a sister or a best friend, but since both those people were doing so much to help out, it left Bridget with a difficult decision. Fortunately Clem seemed to know that this was a dilemma for the young Bride-To-Be and stepped up to put her at her ease. She let it be known through idle chatting that she had been Maid-of-Honour at too many weddings and was so relieved that Bridget had a sister who would be fitting the bill this time. That way Clem could just sit back and enjoy the festivities, thank you very much!

In this manner, of course, Clem had simply been letting her friend know that Clementine would not be upset at being passed over for the role and that indeed; it should rightfully fall to Beth to have the honour. So, once that was settled everything just started to fall into place and everyone was looking forward to the big day. Even Steven—when he actually took the time to think about it!

Kid disembarked the train at Brookswood and started to make his way over to the livery to pick up Buck and complete the last stage of his journey home. He had done this so many times over the last year and a half that he no longer even thought about where he was going—his body was on cruise control and his brain was everywhere but where it should have been.

All of a sudden he was brought up short when he walked right into another body.

"Oh! Miss Isabelle!" Jed acknowledged her. "I do apologize."

"That's quite alright Jed." Isabelle assured him with a sweet smile. "It's very nice to be bumped into by you—again."

"Ahhh, yes ma'am." Jed responded with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Still, it was rude and I do apologize. I should be watching where I'm going."

Isabelle slipped her arm through his and began to walk along with him.

"Your mind on other things today?" She asked him.

"Well, yeah." He admitted. "As a matter of fact it is."

"Anything you would like to talk about?" She asked, all concerned. "I might be able to help."

"I don't really see how you could Isabelle, but thank you for offering." Jed answered her.

"How do you know?" She persisted. "Sometimes just talking about something can make it easier to deal with."

"Yes, ma'am that's true." Kid agreed. "But I'm worried about my partner is all and I don't really see how you can help with that."

"Oh, HIM again?!" Isabelle pouted. "Don't you think it's time you let that go and got on with your life?"

Kid felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle, but he told himself to stay calm and to be polite. Isabelle wasn't the kind of person who could understand commitment—unless it was to her.

"No Isabelle, it isn't." Jed told her. "And I don't intend to let it go until we have him out of that place and back home where he belongs."

Isabelle stopped walking and stepping in front of Jed she placed her hand on his chest and looked up into his blue eyes.

"Jed, I'm sorry." She told him. "But you need to get on with your life. It's been over a year and nothing has come of all your efforts. You need to take advantage of what's being offered to you—get married and have a family of your own. I mean, let's face it the Jordan's aren't your real family; they're just a stop gap. You need to find a woman who's mature and ready to settle down to a real life." She sighed then and gave him a sad look. "Dear Beth is so sweet, but pathetic really; a young girl like her trying so hard to act like a woman, but it's so obvious that she just doesn't have a clue how to treat a man."

Here Jed really bristled. His jaw clenched, but again he reminded himself not to lose his temper. But he did take hold of Isabelle's hand that was on his chest and pushed it away from him, perhaps clasping it a little bit tighter than what was comfortable for her.

"Let me tell you something Isabelle, just so's we're clear." Jed insisted. "Beth is not a little girl; she is a young woman in her own right. She cares about me and she cares about Hannibal and she's in this for the long haul. The Jordan's are the closest thing I've had to family for years and they are not just a stop gap! I am not giving up on Heyes and any woman who claims to care about me but isn't willing to support me in that, isn't worth my time!"

Isabelle stood up to her full height and angrily snatched her hand away from Jed's grasp.

"Fine!" She snapped at him, feeling insulted. "Just you wait and see! No woman worth her salt is going to hang around and wait for you while you chase after a pipe dream! Your partner is never going to get out of prison but by the time you realize that any woman who might have wanted you will have given up and moved on to someone more worthy! You either grab hold of the opportunities while you can or you're going to end up a sad and lonely old man!"

"I guess that's just the chance I'm gonna havta' take!" Jed answered, quiet but determined. "'Cause I'm not giving up on my partner. Good day, Miss Isabelle."

Jed politely tipped his hat and then deftly stepped around the infuriated woman and continued on his way to the livery stable. Isabelle did not follow him.

Riding back out to the Double J, Jed was still grinding his teeth and muttering obscenities concerning the audacity of some of the local feminine inhabitants of Brookswood. The only good thing about the whole encounter is that now, hopefully Isabelle had gotten the message loud and clear that Jed was not interested in her. Imagine saying that about Beth! Just who did she think she was insulting Beth that way? 'Silly little girl—pathetic trying to pretend to be a woman!' How dare she say things like that!?

There was no pretending about it—Beth was a woman! She was a beautiful woman who deeply cared about him and Heyes and who had given her support and loyalty unconditionally. You don't find a woman like that very often; one who was willing to put her own ambitions and desires on the back burner in order to stand up for a cause and stick to it. Jed smiled to himself then as he thought about how determined Beth was to get to the bottom of things here. It might not have been the smartest thing to do, but her convincing Sister Julia to get her in to the prison masquerading as a novice really was a courageous thing to do. Maybe not smart, but certainly courageous!

Jed continued to smile to himself and his mood softened as he thought about his young friend and how much she'd grown in the last two years. She really wasn't a little girl anymore.

Then Jed suddenly came back to reality when Buck stumbled, but picked himself up and then stalwartly carried on. It was then that Curry realized that the old gelding had been trying to tell him something for the past mile or so, but Kid had been so deep into his own thoughts that he hadn't heard him. Buck was limping; it hadn't been bad at first which is probably why Jed hadn't picked up on it through his own musings, but now the limp was quite pronounced.

Jed pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted. He leaned down and grabbed hold of the gelding's off foreleg, down by the fetlock and lifted the foot. All looked good in there—no stones pressed into the frog or sticks rammed under the shoe. He put the foot down and ran his hands along the lower leg and then groaned. Sure enough there was heat and swelling in the tendon—again! Dammit!

Jed stood up with a sigh and gave Buck a pat and then a rubbing on the neck.

"Yeah, that's alright old fella." He soothed the gelding. "C'mon, let's get you home."

Jed started to slowly walk on, leading the limping horse along behind him until they finally were heading down the lane towards the barn yard. Karma spotted her friend coming and raising her head she sent out a welcoming whinny. Buck lifted his head and pricked his ears and sent back a little nicker of his own, but then dropped his head again and continued to limp after his human.

Jed got him in to the first barn, and taking off his bridle first, he then slipped a halter over his ears and tied him to a ring in the post. Then he proceeded to strip the saddle off him and give him a good rub down all the while wondering just how bad that tendon was and why was it not healing up right. He was so deep in thought and worry that he didn't heard Jesse come into the barn until the man was almost up to him. Buck hadn't even responded to his presence.

"I see he's limping again." Jesse commented.

Jed jumped and felt the instant reflex to go for his gun, but he stopped himself before the muscles could respond and just straightened up with a slightly embarrassed smile. Jesse smiled back, knowing he had startled the younger man and recognized the fact that he hadn't over-reacted. The old ways and habits were slowly starting to fade away.

"Sorry." Jesse apologized. "I noticed you coming into the yard. How is he?"

Jed sighed, shaking his head. "I donno Jesse. I just don't understand why it's not healing."

"Hmm." Jesse commented. "Well, bring him outside. Let's take a look at him."

The two men and the horse went back outside and Jed walked the horse up and down a few times while Jesse watched the gait and the way the horse was favouring the leg.

"Okay Jed, hold him there a minute." Then Jesse came and ran his hands down the tender foreleg, gently applying pressure in certain spots and watching for the horse's reaction. He finally stood up with a sigh and gave the gelding a pat on the neck

"I don't know Jed; it really doesn't look good at this point."

"Yeah." Jed agreed. "It's that same leg too. I don't know what's goin' on with him."

"How old is he?" Jesse asked. "Do you have any idea?"

"Nothing definite." Jed admitted. "He wasn't a youngster when I first bought him that's for sure."

"How long ago was that?"

"Oh, well." Jed rubbed his chin, thinking back to that day. "Gee, must be at least ten years now."

"And he wasn't young then?"

"Oh no. At least ten."

"So." Jesse reflected. "Into his twenties probably. And a lot of rough riding and missed meals in there too, no doubt. Not to mention cold nights out in the open."

"Well, yeah." Jed admitted. "He's been a good solid horse though. I always tried to look after him."

"I don't doubt that." Jesse appeased his friend. "But still, that kind of life sort of catches up with a fellow after a while."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Jesse gave the big seal brown gelding an affectionate pat on the neck.

"I don't know Jed." He ventured. "I think it's time you thought about retiring him."

Jed's face fell. He just couldn't imagine riding any other horse but ole' Buck. They had been together for so long. Buck was an old friend whom Jed had come to rely on and that solid gelding had got him out of more than one tight spot that was for sure. He just couldn't count on any other horse to get him out of trouble when he really needed it—not the way Buck could.

"I'd give him a good home." Jesse assured his friend. "I could really use a wise old gelding like him."

"Yeah, but—I need a riding horse Jesse." Jed insisted, not willing to relinquish his buddy that quickly. "I can't really afford to buy another horse, especially one of Buck's qualities."

"Tell you what." Jesse ventured. "I have about twelve long two year olds that Sam will be breaking out this summer. Why don't you take a ride up to the north pasture and have a look at them. You pick out any one you want. Sam can break him out for you and we'll make it an even trade."

"That don't seem too fair to me Jesse." Jed felt obligated to point out. "You givin' me a young broke three year old in exchange for a worn out old gelding. You got some real fine horses up there, it just wouldn't seem right."

"You're right." Jesse agreed. "I'd be coming out ahead on the deal, that's for sure."

Jed looked confused. "What do you mean; ahead?" He asked. "You just said it was time to retire him. How does that put you ahead?"

"Well, I've been watching him out in the field there with Karma's new filly." Jesse explained. "He's really good with her and little Daisy just takes to him like he was made of molasses. Having a wise old gelding like that, who has the patience to be with the babies, well that's invaluable to me."

"It is?"

"Sure." Jesse explained. "There's only so much these babies can learn from their mothers', but if you can put an old gelding in with the mix, and he likes the youngsters, well—he can teach them a whole lot more about horse etiquette than any wrangler I've ever met."

"And you think Buck would be good for that?"

"Oh! For sure!" Jesse emphasized and then he smiled. "Good ole' Uncle Buck. He's got the wisdom and the patience to be able to teach those colts everything they need to know to be good horses. Especially when it comes to weaning time! Those babies take it pretty hard when mom's not around anymore, but if they know Uncle Buck, and he's still with them—well, things aren't so bad after all. Like I said Jed; a wise old gelding like him would be invaluable to me."

Jed gave his old horse a rubbing on the neck, still hesitant to give him up that easily.

"It's not like you would be saying goodbye to him." Jesse pressed his case. "He'll be here for the rest of his days and he'll be well looked after. You can see him anytime you like."

"Yeah." Jed mumbled. "But ridin' another horse? Just don't seem right."

"I know." Jesse emphasized. "But I bet once you pick out a youngster that you like, you'll see the wisdom of it. Buck just isn't up to being a riding horse anymore. Let him retire, and take life easy from now on. He's put in his years."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right Jesse." Kid had to admit. "And he does keep coming up lame on that leg, so…."

"Right." Jesse agreed. "Let me put him back out in the field with Karma and little Daisy. He's as happy as a clam out there with them, you'll see. It's the right thing to do."

"Yeah." Jed agreed, still a little reluctant.

Jesse took Buck's lead shank and led the limping gelding over to the pasture gate. Instantly his head came up and his ears perked and he nickered out to his friends in the field.

Karma raised her head from grazing and whinnied back at him again. Then, sweet little Daisy perked up her fine head and sent forth her own high pitched baby whinny and with tail flapping came running over to greet her favorite Uncle Buck.

Jesse removed the halter and Buck limped out to meet Daisy half way and then dropped his head down to graze. Karma slowly meandered over to join up with her friend and before long, Spade and his mother made their way over as well. All were content then and in good company and with tails swishing lazily in the late afternoon sun they carried on grazing until it was time to come in for supper.

Jed stood at the fence for awhile and watched them peacefully grazing together and though he knew it was the right thing to do for his horse he still felt a definite heart ache. Everything in his life seemed to be changing on him; old friends being taken away while new friends came along to help ease the loneliness of their passing. But still it was hard.

First Heyes was taken from him, then Hank, then Charlie and Preacher were gone. Devil's Hole was burned to the ground and Lobo and Kyle in prison along with Heyes. And then there was Wheat, alone and on the run and who knew what his fate was going to be.

Kid sighed and rested his chin on his forearms that were laid along the fence. Now old Buck was moving on too. Jesse gave his friend a pat on the shoulder.

"Come on Jed." He said. "Let's get ready for supper. Real nice beef steaks tonight."

"Yeah, okay."

Heyes was down on the work floor keeping an eye on his two 'men', keeping an eye on Boeman and Harris, keeping an eye on Carson and Thompson and trying to do his work without messing things up and causing undue attention to himself. Life really was getting complicated.

Boeman and Harris were respecting Heyes' position so far—Boeman still had trouble swallowing but the ex-outlaw leader knew darn well that they were just waiting for an opportunity to reestablish the pecking order. But they had learned their lesson and had no intentions of coming at Heyes straight on, they were both willing to wait until they could get him alone and gang up on him. Heyes was being very careful not to give them that opportunity.

Carson and Thompson were just waiting for Heyes to slip up on the rules so they would have a reason to make up for lost time through the winter. The Warden telling them to back off that particular inmate for a while had stuck in their craw. They could see that Heyes was very protective of the two new inmates, especially the smaller one, so maybe all they had to do was wait for an opportunity to use that protectiveness to their advantage. Heyes was being very careful not to give it to them.

Lobo knew Heyes was watching out for him, could feel his ex-boss's eyes upon him even from a distance—and he resented it. Did Heyes think that because he'd gotten injured that he was weak? That he couldn't take care of himself in here? He'd already had a couple of the other inmates try to knock him down a peg or two and had ended up getting knocked down themselves. Even if Lobo had ended up being punished by the guards for fighting and had spent an hour doubled over and gasping for air because of his injured lung—well that didn't mean that he was weak and needed looking after! Heyes was just insulting him and Lobo grew even more angry and bitter than he had been as a free man.

Kyle was almost oblivious to the role that Heyes was playing in keeping him safe. He was aware of some of the inmates sending him dark glances, but when nothing ever came of them he stopped being concerned about it. He went about his day to day duties with about as much a care-free demeanor as an inmate at a territorial prison could possibly have.

Where as Heyes tried to respect Lobo's personal space, he stayed close to Kyle, sitting with him at meal times and always trying to get a work station next to his down on the floor. On the days when Heyes was away, either in the laundry room or the infirmary he just hoped that the message was clear enough to leave Kyle alone that his presence in itself wasn't always going to be required. So far so good.

Spring lazily drifted into summer and everybody was settling in to their routines. The Kid came for his regular visits and was as good as his word in taking time to visit with his other two friends as soon as their curfew was up. But where Kyle appreciated the visits and the chance to actually talk to someone he knew, Lobo soon made it clear that he wasn't interested in company even going so far as to decline the invitation. So Kid stopped asking after him and Heyes kept an even closer eye on him in the hopes of preventing him from sinking into a depression.

Beth and Clem came for more visits as well and Beth was always full of news about Daisy and of course, the up coming wedding. During those visit Jed and Hannibal usually did not get many words in edgewise and would just sit back and send the occasional smile to one another. Just watching Beth in her animated conversation was enough to lift Heyes' spirits and help him to forget about his problems for at least the hour that she was there anyways. Clem was Clem so these visits were usually full of bantering and high spirited fun between the ladies, and even the guard could not help but let the occasional chuckle escape at some of the verbal antics they got up to.

Work gangs were being assembled for doing work outside the prison walls and Heyes wasn't the only one looking forward to a chance to get out amongst real human beings again. Aside from the usual broken fences and new barn roofs, it was apparently time to do repairs at the convent and repaint the orphanage so Heyes got to return to that residence even though it wasn't for as enjoyable an occasion as the previous.

Still, he lucked out in that he and a couple of the other trustees got to paint the interior of the orphanage, so they did not have to work outside in the hot summer day. The inmates still had to wear shackles on their wrists and ankles, but they were not cinched up tight with that damn belt, so they had freedom in order to do their jobs. Just don't try running anywhere!

The children had been told to stay away from the convicts, but yeah—good luck with that! Especially when they recognized their friend Hannibal Heyes and were just as comfortable in his presence as they were with the Sisters. Some of the older boys even picked up paint brushes and felt it was an honour to be able to assist their favorite outlaw in the painting of their walls. Pearson and Davis were guarding the inside inmates and though they were a little concerned at first with the children mingling with the convicts everybody ended up working well together and they even seemed to be having a good time as well, so…..

Lunch break found the various inmates outside on the porch, either sitting on the steps, or dangling their legs off the veranda and enjoying sandwiches and lemonade and all the water they could want. Not surprisingly Heyes found himself surrounded by various children of all ages wanting to share their lunch break with him. Pearson stood close by, not interfering but most definitely keeping an eye on things.

Little Sally, the girl who had run up and hugged Heyes during his classroom visit now felt that she was privileged and moved in close to sit beside the inmate. She smiled up at him and gave him one of her cookies.

"Thank you Sally." He commented, smiling down at her.

She beamed with pleasure that he remembered her name.

"Are you going to come back to visit us again?" She asked, sweetly.

"I'm certainly going to try to." He assured her. "We'll have to see what the Sisters say about that."

"I'm sure it will be fine with them." Sally was quite adamant.

Heyes smiled at her confidence. "We'll see."

"Is Kid Curry going to come with you?" Asked young Todd, his little sister Carol sitting on the step below him smiled up hopefully.

"I don't know." Heyes admitted. "Some other things came up and I forgot to ask him. But I will."

This was met by smiles all around, but then Heyes' attention was drawn away from his group of admirers to watch an exchange going on between Sister Julia and Kenny. They were speaking seriously about something and Heyes had the feeling that it was about him. Then sure enough both those people stopped talking and looked over in his direction. Heyes frowned and sat there, looking at them looking at him. Hmmmm.

Then the Sister smiled a farewell to the guard and made her way over to the group sitting on the porch steps.

"Hello Joshua."

"Sister."

"Officer Reece and I were just discussing the possibility of you coming for another 'social' visit again once the repairs are completed on the convent."

"Oh." Heyes smiled with relief. "Yes ma'am. I'm willing if the warden agrees."

"Good!" Sister Julia answered. "From what Officer Reece says, I don't think that will be a problem." Then she smiled at the group gathering and they all knew what was coming. "Now children, let these men alone, they have work to do."

This proclamation was met with moans and groans of disappointment, but the youngsters all got to their feet and headed off to tend to their own chores. The other inmates sitting around on the porch also moved off to return to their work. Heyes was about to join them when Sister Julia came forward and sat down on the steps beside him. She placed her hand on one of his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I haven't seen you for a while Joshua." She commented. "How are you?"

"I'm fine Sister."

"I know you've had to deal with some sad news lately along with everything else." She admitted to him. "Are you getting through that alright?"

Heyes smiled. "Yes." He assured her, and moved his other hand over to place on top of hers. "It was hard to hear about at first. That was our home; the people there were our family. It was hard. Harder for the Kid though—he had to witness it."

"Yes." Sister Julia commiserated. "What must make it even more difficult is that the rest of the territory is rejoicing over an event that can only bring you pain. That can be a very lonely place to be."

Heyes smiled over at her again. Then it was his turn to lift her hand up and give it a gentle kiss.

"Thank you." He said to her surprised expression. "Thank you for understanding something that most do not."

She nodded. "Mr. Reece tells me that two of the men from your old gang are now at the prison. Are they settling in alright?"

"One is. The other…." Heyes shrugged. "I don't know."

"It's a long time till Christmas." She pointed out. "Is there anything either of them need right now?"

Heyes laughed. "I think Kyle would kill for some chewing tobacco—he has a terrible habit there. I'm not sure if it's allowed, but…."

"I'll find out." The Sister assured him. "If it is, I will be sure to get some to him."

"Thank you." Then Heyes thought about it some more. "Ahh, it does start to get chilly here by mid September and Lobo is kinda sickly, so anything to keep him warm. Sweaters, socks, definitely a toque, a blanket. Actually both of them could use those things before the cold weather sets in. If it's too much I can divvy up some of my winter things and pass them on. I can make do until Christmas."

"That's very generous of you Joshua." The sister complimented him, giving his hand another squeeze. "But we don't want you getting sick again either. I'll see what we can do—I'm sure we'll find something for them."

Heyes nodded. "Thank you." He said again. Then he grinned. "Some more cookies would be nice."

Heyes eyes took on a mischievous twinkle and the Sister laughed out loud.

"I'll see what I can arrange."

"Yeah! Good."

Then Pearson approached them and the two people on the steps glanced up at him.

"C'mon Heyes." He said a little regretfully. "Break has been over for half an hour. Time you got back to work."

"Oh. Yeah."

Heyes stood up, and then he assisted the Sister to her feet and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as farewell.

"Goodbye for now Joshua." She said. "I'll see you when you come for your visit."

"Goodbye Sister." He said and then gathering up the various lengths of chain attached to his extremities, he went back up the steps to carry on with his painting duties.

It took three weeks to finish up the jobs over at the convent and in that time Heyes was still trying to keep an eye on his two 'men'. Being new to the prison they had not been allowed to be part of the work gang but had stayed behind to carry on with regular duties. Still, they had managed to get outdoors in the yard whenever possible and were managing to stay out of trouble even with Heyes away most days.

Kyle was a happy man when he returned to his cell one evening to find a packet of chewing tobacco sitting on his pillow, along with some warm clothing for the upcoming winter months. He was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about; as far as he was concerned prison weren't too bad of a place after all.

Lobo on the other hand was not fitting in quite as easily as Kyle was doing. He had a tan, but underneath it you could tell that his complexion was still sallow and unhealthy. He was dropping weight and his cough was getting worse even though they were into the warmest time of the year. His attitude was sour and mean and he wasn't eating.

One evening after working out at the convent all day, Heyes entered the mess hall and instantly began surveying the tables looking for Lobo. He finally spotted him sitting off by himself and snarling at anybody who even thought about sitting down close to him. His plate of food sat in front of him on the table, untouched.

Heyes felt irritation start to rise up in him. He made his way over to where Lobo sat, and coming up behind him suddenly gave him a hard cuff across the back of his head. Like the wolf for which he was nicknamed, Lobo was on his feet in an instant and turning with a snarl was ready to attack his attacker. However, as soon as he saw that it was Heyes, he stood down just a fraction and did not come at him. But the snarl did not leave his face and the two men locked eyes and the silent battle of wills was on.

The other inmates seated around the room were watching this confrontation with serious intent. Though none of them had what it took to challenge Heyes outright, sitting back and watching someone else attempt it could make for an entertaining dinner and a show.

Lobo's whole stance was menacing; he eyes were hard, his body tense and fists clenched. Every fiber of him wanted to get his hands around Heyes' throat and choke the arrogant life out of him, and yet he hesitated. Even without the Kid there to back him up, Lobo knew that Heyes was a force to be reckoned with. He'd seen with his own eyes the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang, light weight that he was; beat a man to within an inch of his life for daring to challenge his dictate.

Yes, Lobo hesitated. In just the course of a few seconds Lobo had weighed his options and looked at the odds. He was not yet recovered from his injuries and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that his strength was far from where it should be. He also knew that Heyes had been doing physical work outdoors for the past three weeks and even through his summer tunic, Lobo could tell that Heyes was fit and toned and in a much better position to win a fight than Lobo himself was.

All of this Lobo took in and processed in the space of those few seconds when the two adversaries challenged one another. Then Lobo backed down, though not gracefully. He was still tense and sending off aggressive waves, but he dropped eye contact and sat back down at the table. The atmosphere in the mess hall relaxed but it was with disappointment and not relief when the guards and inmates alike had to accept that there would be no fight tonight. Geesh—what was this place coming to; there hadn't been a good fight since young Aims had gotten himself stabbed.

Heyes went and got his own plateful of supper and then returned and sat down beside his friend and began to eat. He didn't look at Lobo, didn't send him any sign language or whispered orders; he just sat quietly and ate his supper. Lobo got the message. He picked up his spoon, and though still tight-lipped with resentment he began to eat and Heyes didn't leave his side until the new inmate had cleaned his plate.

Once the meal was finished, Heyes got up, returned his plate to the kitchen, got his cup of evening coffee and returned to his cell. Lobo sat and seethed and everyone else avoided eye contact with him for fear of becoming the scapegoat. Lobo wasn't ready for things to be settled between him and Heyes yet—but after that, he always ate his supper.

One day the following week, Lobo was down on the work floor doing the usual when Pearson approached him. Lobo glanced up and then, having learned some lessons the hard way, quickly dropped his gaze again.

"Convict." Pearson said to him. "Follow me."

Though the order itself was always comprised of the same words, it wasn't always spoken in the literal sense, depending on who the inmate was. Pearson had been warned never to turn his back on this particular inmate, so even though the order had been 'follow me', Pearson had stepped to the side as Lobo had come up to him, and then taking the convict by the arm had proceeded to direct him in that manner to where they were going.

Where they were going was the infirmary. Lobo walked into the ward looking very suspicious—or perhaps just more suspicious than usual, and then he saw Heyes and suspicion turned to resentment.

"Ah, here you are, young man." Morin acknowledged him. It seemed that everyone was a 'young man' to the doctor. "Have a seat over here, I want to examine you."

Lobo looked as though he was going to rebel when Pearson gave him a slight shove in the direction that Morin had indicated. Heyes walked over to stand by the doctor.

"C'mon Lobo." He said. "Just do it, will ya'?"

Lobo sneered, but took notice that Heyes had just spoken and not been whacked for it, so he thought he would take the chance and see what happened.

"What are you doin' Heyes?" He growled over at him. "You ain't my boss anymore, why don't you just leave me alone?"

Heyes smiled dangerously. Pearson and Morin kept out of the way, giving Heyes the chance to exert control over his underling—so long as it didn't get out of hand.

"That's where you're wrong Lobo." Heyes informed him. "I may not have been running Devil's Hole anymore, but I am your boss in here and you'll do what I tell ya'." Then he allowed a quizzical expression to cross his face. "But I thought we already had that worked out."

Lobo snorted, but wisely decided to change the subject.

"Well what's this all about then?" He asked, looking around the infirmary. "I don't need no exam."

"Your cough is getting worse Lobo." Heyes pointed out. "I just asked Doc Morin here to have a listen and maybe he can give ya' something for it."

"I don't need nothin'!" Lobo insisted and made a move back towards the exit.

Pearson was suddenly right in his face, blocking his way, bully club at the ready. Lobo was fuming by now and he sent a glare back towards Heyes.

"Just accept it will ya' Lobo?" Heyes insisted, starting to get somewhat irritated at this man's stubbornness. "You're gonna need all the help you can get to survive this coming winter. Believe me I know."

"And what makes you think I want to survive it?" Lobo asked quietly, but with an edge to it. "I shoulda died right out there with Charlie and Preacher, but instead I'm stuck in this cesspool with you and Kyle! Any man who would accept this over an honourable death ain't worth the bounty money posted on 'em!"

Heyes' jaw tightened at the insult and he made a move towards the other man, but Pearson stopped him.

"Heyes! Back off!"

The fire went out of Heyes' eyes and he stood down though his anger was still apparent. Lobo's lip curled in a smile. Apparently Heyes wasn't boss over everybody.

"Just do it Lobo!" Heyes ordered him and then added, in a menacing tone; "The guards ain't around all the time."

The smile left Lobo's face and the two inmates were again locked in an optical struggle for dominance, and again it was Lobo who backed off. He snorted derisively as though to say that it was no big deal and then went over to the exam table and sat up on it.

"It's about time." Morin mumbled. "It's not like I have all day to wait for little boys to stop playing games. Take your tunic off."

"What?" Lobo growled at him.

"Your tunic." Morin repeated. "Take it off. I need to listen to your chest."

Lobo sighed and then pulled his tunic off over his head. Heyes tried not to react to the signs of trauma to his right side. It was obvious that there had been extensive damage done when that horse's hoof had landed on him, causing crushing internal injuries.

Morin didn't react at all to the scarring. Either he was really good at covering up what he thought, or compared to the injuries he'd had to deal with during the war, this was nothing spectacular. He put the ear pieces of his stethoscope into his ears and placed the business end of it on Lobo's chest. He listened for about five seconds, then took one ear piece out and looked up at the inmate.

"It would help me to hear what's going on in there if you'd breathe."

"Oh." Lobo almost looked embarrassed and then took in a deep breath. He instantly started coughing.

Morin backed off until the spasm quieted. "Just breathe normally." He instructed. "There's nothing to worry about, just relax."

"I ain't worried! And I am relaxed!"

"Hmmm."

Morin started to listen again, moving the instrument around to various places on Lobo's chest and occasionally taking two fingers and tapping around the lung area, and listening some more.

"Hmmm. Okay, take a breath and hold it."

Tap tap tap. "Hmmm. Okay, release. Alright, shift around here so that I can listen to your back." Tap tap tap. "Take a breath, hold it." Tap tap tap. "Uh huh. Release. Hmmm."

Lobo looked over at Heyes and rolled his eyes. Heyes smiled.

"Okay." Morin said, straightening back up and pursing his lips. "You can put your tunic back on." Then he looked over at Heyes. "Yeah, you were right Heyes. There is certainly fluid in that lung." He looked back to his patient. "When you cough, do you ever bring up any phlegm or is it always that dry cough?"

"Naw, it's dry." Lobo informed him.

Morin nodded. "Yeah. That fluid's not going anywhere. That lung is definitely damaged and probably isn't going to get much better than it is now. We'll have to really keep an eye on things once the colder weather sets in—it would be very dangerous for you to get pneumonia with it like that." Morin looked over to Pearson. "Can we get him some warm clothing Mr. Pearson? Sweaters and a scarf for sure to keep his chest and neck warm."

Pearson shrugged. "I suppose."

"I already spoke to Sister Julia about that." Heyes piped in. "She has assured me that the convent will supply both Lobo and Kyle with warm clothing for the winter."

Lobo looked surprised at that; why would anybody bother about him? Morin just nodded as though he had expected as much.

"Good." He said and then started over towards his medicine cabinet. "I can give you something here to help ease that cough, make ya' a little more comfortable anyways." He came back to the patient and handed him a bottle of fluid. "It'll make you sleepy so take a swallow at night. Let Heyes know when you're running out and I'll get more to you. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure Doc." Lobo mumbled. "Whatever."

Then without even a glance at Heyes, he got down off the table and Pearson escorted him back to the work floor. Heyes and Morin exchanged looks.

"He was one of your men?" Morin asked.

"Yeah."

"Has he always been that cantankerous?"

"Yeah."

"Fxxk!"

"Yeah."

A few days after the visit with Dr. Morin, Heyes found himself being escorted once again over to the orphanage. It was pretty much the same routine as the first trip had been, with two main differences. One was that Heyes was actually looking forward to his time with the children this time and the other was that he was being transported in the open buckboard rather than the closed in oven of a prison coach. Thank goodness for small blessings.

Of course, by this time he had traveled back and forth between the prison and the convent so many times with the work gang that the trip through town no longer held much interest to him. It was nice to occasionally spot a pretty girl or a fine horse, but other than that it was just one more thing that he could no longer partake of, so why even bother looking.

Again, as with the previous visit, Kenny removed Heyes' shackles once they were inside the building and then accompanied him into the class room, leaving Pearson out in the hallway to guard the door. Both men greeted the Sisters and then Heyes turned to face his audience.

"Good morning." He said, grinning his grin.

He was hit with a cascade of youthful voices.

"Good morning Mr. Heyes!"

"Wow!" Heyes responded. "You'd think I hadn't been here for months. I saw every one of you while I was here painting the building."

"Yeah, but you were working then." William spoke up. "The Sisters and the guards wouldn't hardly let us talk to you!"

"I suppose that's a good point." Heyes conceded. "We did have a job to do. Do you like what we did?"

"Yes Mr. Heyes!"

Heyes grinned again and then settled back against the front desk. Sister Cornelia made sure to keep the yard stick away from him.

"What shall we talk about today?" He asked the group.

"How come you had to wear those chains when you were here to work?" Asked Todd. "Didn't that make it hard to move around?"

"Yeah, it does." Heyes admitted. "But, with a bunch of us here, the guards have to be sure that we're not all going to decide to up and leave all at once. It's just a precaution is all. It does make it hard for us to move around while we're working, but it also makes it hard for us to run away."

"You could run away now!" Melanie observed.

"We could help you." Piped up Sally.

"Yeah!"

"We could help!"

"Ahh…" Heyes didn't even bother to glance around at Kenny; he could already picture the look on that guards face. "That's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Don't you want to go?"

Heyes smiled. "It's not that I don't want to." He explained. "But I'd have no where to go to. The main reason Kid and I stayed free for so long is that the law didn't have any photographs of us, so not many people knew what we looked like. Now, there are a lot of pictures of me out there and if I made a run for it, it wouldn't be long before every Sheriff's office within a hundred miles would have a copy of my photo along with permission to shoot on sight. Besides that, I don't have any money. I don't have a horse or food or a change of clothes. I think I kinda stand out in these stripes, don't you?"

This was met with some embarrassed giggling and more verbal affirmations.

"Yeah, I guess you do—kinda."

Heyes nodded. "Then, on top of all that." He continued. "You see that rifle that friendly Officer Reece is carrying and has actually lifted up to be in a more useful position at this point?" All the children glanced over at Kenny with some of the younger girls actually looking a little scared. "Well, I happen to have it on good authority that Officer Reece is an excellent shot so I don't think I would get very far anyways." Now the classroom was silent. "And, besides that." Heyes added. "I gave my word. I promised Officer Reece that if I was permitted to come here and talk with you lot that I would not try to escape."

Again, this last comment was met with mixed reviews. The younger children nodded acceptance of that statement, but a couple of the older, more skeptical boys questioned the logic of it.

"Yeah, but you could break your word." Michael stated matter-of-factly. "If the opportunity arose, wouldn't you go for it?"

"No." Heyes stated blatantly.

"Why not?"

"Yeah, if ya' had the chance."

"Yeah! What if Kid Curry came and broke ya' out? Wouldn't you go then?"

"No." Heyes repeated.

Now all the children were confused.

"But why not?" Asked Melanie.

Heyes sighed and folded his arms. He knew the answer, but how to explain it in a way that even the young ones would understand. He constantly marveled at the ability of children to always come up with the difficult questions.

"Well, for one thing." He began. "I gave my word. A person's word means a lot. If you give your word and then break it, well, what else can you offer then that's of any value?"

Then Heyes stopped talking almost in mid-thought as the real meaning of what he had just spoken out loud hit home with his own circumstance. How close had he come that night, oh so long ago in the Cheyenne jailhouse, to breaking his word? And how many nights had he since spent, staring up at a ceiling he couldn't see, berating himself for the fact that he hadn't done it?

"Heyes?" Kenny's voice cut through the inmates silent musings.

"What? Oh!" Heyes woke up and looked out upon a room full of opened mouths and concerned expressions. "Sorry." He said with a new smile. "I was just reminded of something. Ahh, where was I? Oh yes! Why I wouldn't break out. Well, I gave my word, and a person's word is important. Also, if Kid Curry showed up to try and break me out I wouldn't let him. There are repercussions to everything we do."

"What's that mean?" Sally asked.

"Oh, sorry." Heyes smiled. "That means there's a price to pay for the choices we make. I believe we talked about that the last time I was here. Kid Curry received his amnesty. If he came here to break me out of prison, then he would be breaking the law and he'd be right back where we started. He's a free man now—he's no longer wanted by the law. I would not be happy with him at all if he threw that away."

Then a knock came to the classroom door, and Kenny opened it a creak to see what was up. Heyes glanced over just as Kenny stepped back to allow someone else to enter and then the inmates face lit up with childish delight and he was on his feet in an instant.

"Ha ha! Kid!"

"Hey, Heyes." Kid smiled at him as the whole classroom took a collective gasp. "Oh, Sister Julia, hello."

"Hello Thaddeus, good of you to come." She greeted him. "Sister Cornelia, I'd like you to meet Jed Curry."

"Sister." Jed greeted her.

"Oh, hello Mr. Curry." Sister Cornelia greeted him. "My but we are getting quite the celebrities here today."

"Kid! What are you doing here?" Heyes asked him. "I never got around to asking you about this."

"Yeah, I know Heyes. Kenny kinda took the initiative." At which point the two friends shook hands and then simultaneously each put their left hands on a respective shoulder and then Heyes pulled his cousin into a brief 'man hug' followed by a couple of slaps on the backs. "Besides." Jed added once they parted. "I was getting tired of you having all the fun."

"Ha ha! You…." Heyes gave him another pat on the back and then turned to their audience. "Everyone, my partner; Jed Curry."

Again, a room full of open mouths and wide eyes met this announcement. Then all hell broke loose.

"Kid Curry!"

"Wow! Can we see your fast draw?!"

"We got to meet both of you!"

"Are you going to break Mr. Heyes out of prison?"

"Where's your gun?"

"Why aren't you wearing your gun?"

"We want to see your fast draw!"

"Whoa! Hang on!" Jed responded, holding up his hands. "Geesh Heyes, what have you been feeding these kids?"

Heyes just smiled and shrugged. He still wasn't over being happy to see his partner.

"Why aren't you wearing your gun?" Todd asked again.

"Well, ahhh, the guards thought it would be a good idea if I left that out in the hallway for now."

A collective; "Awwww!"

"Can't we see your fast draw?"

"We'll see." Kid said. "Maybe later."

"Are you here to rescue Mr. Heyes?"

"Yeah! Are you going to break him out?"

"Ah, no." Kid admitted and sent Heyes a quizzical look. "That wasn't the plan."

"Why not?"

"I thought we just went over all that." Heyes pointed out.

"But we want to hear it from him."

"Yeah. We want to hear if he agrees with what you said."

"Oh." Heyes smiled at his partner and with a hand gesture, offered him the floor.

Curry sent him a subtle version of 'the look' and then accepted the inevitable.

"Ah, well for one thing, there's two officers here with loaded rifles and I get the feeling they know how to use them." Curry explained. "But even at that, even if I had come here with a plan all organized to break Heyes out, well; I don't think we would get very far. The law didn't used to have pictures of us so it was easy to hide in plain sight, so to speak, but now every law man from here to the borders would know what we look like and they'd all be quite happy to get us in their sights if they could. We just wouldn't stand a chance, and we'd probably get killed trying."

Curry looked like he was finished at this point, giving the reasons that he felt were relevant, but Heyes nudged him for more.

"What about that other reason Kid?" Heyes asked him.

Curry looked at him innocently. "What reason is that Heyes?"

"You know what reason." Heyes insisted. "It's probably the most important reason of all, the one you and I have discussed on a number of occasions. The one where I'd shoot you myself if you even thought about throwing it all away."

"Ohhh! You mean the one about the amnesty." Kid teased him.

"Yeah!" Heyes nodded emphatically and then rolled his eyes at the assembly. He was a real showman when he wanted to be and the children giggled appreciatively.

"Well, yeah. There is that." Curry agreed. Then he turned back to the group with the manner of a child being told to repeat his lessons out loud so that he wouldn't forget them. "I was given the amnesty, something that Heyes and I worked really hard for, for a long time, and I was finally granted it." Here Jed dropped the play acting and became serious. "If I were to break Heyes out of prison, or even just try to, I would be breaking the law and so I would be throwing away something that is very important and then, what would all of our efforts have been for? It'd be worth nothing."

"So you can't do anything?" Gillian asked.

"Oh no." Kid denied that. "No. We're doing everything we can that's legal. We've got people on our side out there. We have a good lawyer and friends who have money who are willing to support our cause." Then he stopped and met his friend's eyes. "We're doing everything we can Heyes, it's just going to take some time to get everything set up. Again."

"Yeah, Kid. I know."

There was a beat of silence as the classroom watched a little bit of silent communication pass between the two friends, and then one of the older boys, William spoke up.

"Mr. Curry, sir?"

"Yes….?"

"That's William." Heyes informed him.

"Yes, William."

"We heard about what happened to the Devil's Hole Gang." He stated a little hesitantly. "Someone said that you were there, sir. That you saw what happened."

The demeanors of both Heyes and Curry sank into sadness and instantly William felt contrite.

"Oh. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, that's alright." Curry assured him. "Actually Kenny…ah, Officer Reece wanted me to talk to you about that—especially you older boys who might be thinking that running off to join an outlaw gang might be fun."

William and Michael exchanged glances while the rest of the group waited in strained anticipation.

"I didn't actually see what happened." Curry explained. "But I sure enough heard it. To be perfectly honest, I was hiding under a seat in the passenger car scared to death that I was going to get killed by a stray bullet or a shard of glass or a splinter of wood, or something else equally as humiliating. But the noise was deafening. Rifles firing, men yelling, some screaming. And the horses! Nothing chills you to the bone more than a horse screaming in terror or in agony simply because it had the bad luck of being caught out in the middle of it all. A lot of people and a lot of horses died that day. Because I just happened to be on that train, I had to go out and identify the bodies of men whom I have known for years. Men who were my friends. It was one of the worse days of my life and I will never forget it."

Kid hesitated a moment here and looked over at Heyes who was looking at the floor. The room was silent. Kid took a deep breath and looked back at his enthralled audience.

"But as bad as that was, there was one thing that was worse. And that was looking down at the dead body of someone I didn't even know."

Even Heyes looked up at that, his brow creased.

"It was the body of a fifteen year old boy."

Heyes groaned. He knew that sat heavy with the Kid.

"He and his young friend had thought it would be a great adventure to run away from home and join up with a real, authentic outlaw band. They'd never done anything illegal in their lives, they both came from good families and had no reason to run off—other than that they thought it would be fun. I'm never gonna forget the look on his friend's face when I had to tell him that his best childhood buddy had been killed, all because they thought it would be fun."

The room was silent. William and Michael exchanged glances again and then looked away. That didn't sound like fun.

"Aww, Kid." Heyes mumbled.

"So." Curry continued. "You don't want to be running off and doing stupid things like that. It's not worth it. You're getting a real good start on things here, a good life ahead of ya'. Don't mess it up."

Sister Julia stepped forward then feeling that the children might have had enough reality for now.

"Perhaps it's time we called it day." She said.

"Aww no!"

"Not yet!"

"We haven't seen his fast draw!"

"Yeah, he said we could see his fast draw!"

Sister Julia sighed; children could be so resilient, jumping from one extreme to the other at the snap of the fingers. She sent a questioning look over to Thaddeus. He smiled and then looked back at Kenny.

"What do you think?" He asked the guard. "Can I show them the fast draw?"

Kenny was already one step ahead of him and with a smile, he held up Kid's belt with the six shooter neatly tucked away in its holster.

"Ha!" Kid laughed. "Okay."

This affirmation was met with a loud chorus of excited exclamations as Jed stepped forward to retrieve his gun from the guard.

"It's been unloaded." Kenny informed him.

"Ah, yeah." Jed nodded. "Probably a good idea."

Kid returned to stand in front of the desk again while strapping his holster into place.

"Stand up Heyes." He said. "I'm gonna shoot ya'."

"Ho ho!" Heyes laughed amongst the giggles from the class. "Hardly fair—I don't even have a gun!" Then he sent a mischievous grin over to their audience. "What do you think? Should I ask Officer Reece if I could borrow his sidearm?"

Everybody sent expectant smiles over towards the guard. The look that Kenny sent back to the inmate did not need words to translate.

"Ah, no." Heyes turned back to the children. "I don't think that's gonna happen."

"It doesn't matter Heyes, you don't need a gun." Kid told him. "Just stand here and face me and now hold your hands out in front of ya', spread them apart, palms facing each other like you're gonna clap your hands. Then when we're ready to, you try and clap your hands before I get the barrel of my gun between them."

"Sounds easy enough." Heyes agreed. He raised his hands the way Kid had instructed and held his palms about six inches apart. Then he smiled cheekily at the class and moved his hands together until they were only an inch apart.

Kid gave him 'the look' and Heyes smiled again at their audience. Then he jumped, startled to suddenly feel the barrel of Kid's gun nestled in between his two hands. The room was filled with gasps of surprise.

"Holly cow! That was so fast!"

"Did you see that?!"

"NO! I didn't see it!"

"Do it again! I didn't see it either!"

"Do it again!"

Heyes looked a little put out. "Well that was hardly fair Kid!" He complained. "I wasn't ready!"

"Heyes, where does it say that in a gunfight I have to wait until the other fella's ready?"

"Well…."

"Do it again!"

"Do it again!"

"Yeah, Kid." Heyes agreed. "Do it again."

In the meantime, Kenny had opened the classroom door and beckoned to the other guard.

"Hey Pearson." He called him. "Get in here, you gotta see this."

Officer Pearson came in and everyone waited to see the show again.

"Alright Heyes." Kid nodded. "We can do it again. Just, ah put your hands out again."

Heyes raised his hands, and with another cheeky smile, he brought his palms together until again, there was only an inch between them. Kid sighed and shook his head. Fine, if Heyes was going to be a brat about it, so be it.

"Sister Julia." Kid asked. "Could you say 'one two three go'?"

"Certainly Thaddeus. 'Once two three go'!"

"….Oh my!" Sister Cornelia allowed the comment to escape her amongst gasps and 'Woo's and aww's' from the children.

Even Sister Julia was impressed although something told her she really shouldn't be impressed by anything to do with guns and violence. Still, she couldn't help smiling.

Heyes looked down at his hands to yet again feel the hard cold metal of the gun barrel settled between his palms.

Pearson whistled and then he and Kenny exchanged glances. Kenny shook his head.

Heyes looked into his partner's laughing eyes.

"Aww, you ain't that fast!" Heyes teased him. "There's gotta be a trick to that!"

"Yeah, right Heyes." The Kid gave his gun a couple of quick spins and then dropping it into his holster he folded his arms and turned to face the sea of gaping mouths laid out before him.

"Wow!"

"I still don't think I saw it!"

"Nobody can be that fast!"

Heyes leaned back against the desk, smiling broadly. It was easy, pretending to be put out, but truth be known, Heyes couldn't have been more pleased. He knew Kid had been working hard these past two years to get his shooting arm back again and now Heyes could see that he had done it. Although he knew that his partner was such a perfectionist in that area that he would probably insist that it still wasn't quite right. There's just no pleasing some people.

Very shortly after that the visitors bid farewell to the children amongst promises to return again and were standing in the hallway, getting Heyes prepared for the trip back to the prison. Pearson was busy cinching the belt back around the inmate's waist and snapping his wrists into the cuffs, when he noticed Curry doing something that made him very uneasy.

Kenny tensed as Curry nonchalantly cracked open his six shooter and began loading it with cartridges from his belt. Kenny pointed over at Kid's gun, shaking his head.

"Jed, don't do that here." He ordered. "After we've parted company and you're on your way then you can do whatever you want. But don't load your gun here."

Curry glanced up and the look in Kenny's eye was not one of friendly advise, but of a guard who was responsible for the security of a prisoner; a guard who was in control and meant business. Kid then glanced over at Pearson and noticed that he also was tense and had repositioned his rifle to be ready just in case. Heyes was giving his partner a quiet whimsical smile.

"Oh, yeah." Curry mumbled, a little self-consciously as he quickly tipped the cartridges into the palm of his hand and then slipped them into his pocket. "Sorry. Wasn't thinking." He dropped the gun into its holster and he and Heyes exchanged a look.

Just then Sister Julia stepped out of the classroom and closing the door behind her she smiled over at the group of gentlemen.

"Thank you again for coming." She said. "That was quite an impressive show Thaddeus. The children are going to be talking about that for some time to come."

"Thank you Sister." Jed answered her. "I'm not as fast I as used to be, but it's getting better."

Heyes snorted. "Oh, sorry." He apologized as everybody looked at him. "Yeah, he's just as slow as molasses—never could aim straight either. I have no idea how he got dubbed 'fastest gun in the west.' Why, I bet that Sister Cornelia could outdraw him now, he's gotten so…."

"Heyes!"

Heyes smiled over at the Kid, but he did shut up.

"Joshua, thank you for coming again as well." Sister Julia continued, placing a hand on his arm. "I expect to be making a trip to the prison next week, so perhaps I will see you there."

"Yes ma'am." Heyes answered her. "I hope so."

"Gentlemen, good day."

The group then headed back outside. The prison buckboard and Jed's rented horse were all there waiting patiently for them so Kid turned to say 'goodbye' to his cousin. This was suddenly and unexpectedly awkward. Kid hadn't thought about that; how it would feel to mount up on his horse and simply ride away, leaving his friend behind and in the custody of the guards. He found himself hesitant to leave.

"Heyes…" The two men locked eyes and Jed put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Heyes felt a little self-conscious and looked down at his shackled hands. "This just don't feel right." Curry continued. "Leaving ya' here like this."

Heyes just nodded and mouthed the word 'ya'. Kid glanced over at the two guards who were standing a little ways off, but still keeping a close watch on the pair.

"Jeez Heyes." Curry continued quietly. "I gotta admit, despite all our high-faluten' talk to those youngsters, I feel like I just wanna slip ya' a lock pick and then make a run for it right here and now."

"Yeah, I know Kid." Heyes agreed, just as quietly. "Despite all our high-faluten' talk to those youngsters, I wish you could slip me a lock pick so's we could make a run for it." He smiled sadly. "But ya' know; I'm not under any illusions about our chances. Kenny's a good guy and all, but he wouldn't hesitate to shoot me in the back if I tried anything like that. Oh, he'd feel bad about it afterwards but I'd still be dead. And then you would be in here for aiding in an attempted escape." Then his smile turned into a bit of an ironic grin. "Besides; I gave my word!"

"I know Heyes." Kid said. "I wasn't serious about doing it—just saying that I'd like to."

Heyes nodded. "I'm glad you came Kid. That was fun."

"Yeah."

"We'll have to do it again sometime."

Kid smiled. "Yeah. Well, I best be going Heyes. I'll see ya' in a few weeks. Don't think Beth will be with me for that visit since we're gonna be real close to the wedding by then and I expect she'll be busy."

"Yeah that's right!" Heyes brightened up. "I expect to be hearing all about that."

"Oh, I expect you will be too!" Kid agreed with a laugh. "Jesse's even getting me a new suit for the occasion—tailored made and all!"

"I can understand that." Heyes commented. "Doesn't want ya' embarrassing the family by showing up to a wedding in your trail duds."

"I got decent clothes Heyes!" Kid protested. "Just, Jesse figures I'm gonna need something more than just decent for the hearing, so take care of both at the same time I guess."

"Yeah, well that's good of him."

"It's too good Heyes." Kid insisted, feeling a little inadequate. "I have no idea how I'm gonna pay him back for everything he's doing. He's says its him paying us back but…it just don't seem right somehow."

"Well." Said Heyes thoughtfully. "You could always marry his other daughter."

"Heyes!"

Heyes gave a shackled shrug in his own defense. "Well, I'm just sayin'…."

"Yeah, I know what you were just sayin'." Curry snarked back at him. "Why don't you just let me decide what I want to do about that, okay?"

"Fine." Heyes mumbled. "No need to get all riled up."

"Uh huh."

"Just looking out for ya' Kid."

"Uh huh."

Then Heyes sent him his impish smile accompanied by a mischievous glint and Curry couldn't help but laugh out loud and then he put his hand on his cousin's shoulder again and gave it a bit of a squeeze.

"I best be going Heyes." He said regretfully. "You watch out for yourself okay? You've been doing real good lately so don't go getting yourself into trouble by watching out for Kyle and Lobo. They can look after themselves."

Heyes turned serious as well. "Yeah, I suppose." He acquiescent. "Lobo has certainly made it clear he doesn't want any help anyways."

"There ya' go." Kid pointed out. "I know you'll be keeping an eye on them anyways, but just don't forget to watch your own back."

"No, I won't Kid."

There was silence between them for a moment then Heyes smiled and nodded.

"Anyway, I'll be seeing ya' Heyes."

"Yeah."

Kid gave his cousin another friendly pat on the shoulder and then turned and mounted his horse. He gave a quick nod over to the guards, another look to his cousin and then swung his horse around and loped away.

Heyes stood still, watching him go and thinking again about how strange this was; that Kid could come and go freely without hindrance while he himself was shackled and contained and could not follow. All because of circumstance, all because someone in authority had decided that that would be the way of it. The Kid could mount his horse and ride away, and Heyes could not follow.

Kenny approached the inmate. "Heyes…"

"Yeah." Heyes responded absently while he continued to stare after his disappearing cousin.

"Come on Heyes." Kenny took hold of his arm. "Let's go."

Heyes gave a regretful sigh, looked down at the ground for an instant and then up to meet Kenny's gaze. He sent one more look after his departed friend and then allowed himself to be led back to the waiting buckboard.

Later that week, Jed and Beth saddled up Spike and the little pacer Monty and packing themselves a picnic lunch headed up to the north pasture to go scrutinize some horses. Jed still felt uncomfortable about this whole arrangement but Jesse refused to take 'no' for an answer and since Jed knew that he would need a riding horse he finally relented.

Beth was finding the whole excursion exciting and opportune. Exciting because she got to go on a day ride with her friend and help him pick out his new mount which was an auspicious occasion indeed. And opportune because it gave her an excuse to get away from the hustle and bustle of wedding preparations! The wedding date was still a little ways off, but Belle wanted everything to be perfect so therefore everyone was feeling the strain.

"What do you think?" Beth asked as they ate sandwiches while they rode. "Do you know what type of horse you want?"

Jed considered the question, and then shrugged his shoulders. "I donno." He admitted. "I guess I've been so worried about a young horse not knowing how to get me out of scrapes that it didn't occur to me until recently that I probably won't be getting into those types of scrapes anymore, so it doesn't really matter. So, other than that I don't really know what I want."

"There's probably going to be some nice fillies in the group too." Beth commented. "Papa doesn't keep them all as brood mares. Maybe you should try…."

"NO!" Beth looked over at him, startled. Jed smiled to ease the sharpness of his retort. "Sorry." He said. "It's just; one diva in a partnership is enough. I'll be quite happy with another gelding."

Beth smiled. "Yes, okay. I know what you mean. Karma is a very fine horse and she suites Joshua very well. But she does have 'personality'."

"That's for sure." Jed mumbled. "When I go for a ride I want to feel confident that I'm gonna reach my destination—not get bucked off into a ditch somewhere because my mare came into season and decided to become a little 'testy'!"

Beth laughed. "Yes, okay." She said again. "We won't look at the fillies." Then she dropped her smile and became reflective. "Although, I sure am fond of Daisy. She sure did wiggle her way into my heart."

Jed snorted. "Yeah, like she really had to squirm hard to manage that!" Beth smiled a little self-consciously. "That filly had you wrapped around her little hoof the instant she landed in the straw!"

"You're right!" Beth agreed with another laugh. "It was so exciting watching her come into the world; I just knew she was going to be my horse. I'm glad she came out a filly—for purely selfish reasons of course! If Papa had gotten his colt well…I wouldn't have gotten my future riding horse!"

This time it was Jed's turn to laugh. "That kind of makes me wonder if you didn't have something to do with deciding the gender of that foal before it even hit the ground!"

"Thaddeus! Don't be silly—you know that's impossible!"

"I donno Beth." Jed teased her. "You can be pretty head-strong when it comes to getting what you want."

"Well, I don't know about 'head-strong'!" Beth contradicted with a smile. "Determined, yes. Patient, yes. But head-strong?"

"Yes." Jed smiled over at her and Beth sent him a mischievous smile back. "Ho ho! Beth darlin'! You're flirting with me!"

"Yes."

Their gazes locked for a moment, their expressions fluttering somewhere between serious and teasing. Then Jed looked away and pushed Spike onwards and down the slope towards the line cabin and horse corrals. Beth followed along behind, a subtle but pleased smile still lingering on her lips.

Riding into the cleared yard of the cabin, Jed couldn't help but run a scrutinizing eye over the ten or so young horses milling around in the corral. At first glance, all of them seemed like fine animals and Jed wondered if he was going to be able to pick one out of the group. Maybe he could just close his eyes and throw a lasso, taking whichever horse the loop fell over. That could work.

As the two people pulled up at the hitching rail and dismounted, Sam and Deke came up from the other side of the corral to greet them. Deke was an old hand at wrangling horses and had actually been working this particular spread for a lot of years. When the previous owners had up and sold the ranch, Deke had ended up staying on and continuing to work for the new owners and that had worked out just fine for everyone concerned. He and Sam got on well enough and the old hand didn't mind at all teaching the 'youngster' everything he knew about wranglin' horses and Sam was learning a lot!

"Howdy folks." Deke smiled his greeting, showing off a mouthful of missing teeth. "Hear tell, you're up here ta' pick out a young horse fer yerself."

"Ah, yup. That's the plan." Jed admitted and shook hands with the old horseman. "Jed Curry."

"Yup. I know. Good ta meet ya' young fella." He tipped his head to Beth. "How do Miss Jordan."

"Hello Deke." Beth smiled at him, and then glanced over to Sam. "Hello Sam, how is Maribelle doing?"

"She's doing alright considering, Miss Beth." Sam answered her. "Thank you for asking."

"Well, c'mon let's get this show on the road." Deke suddenly announced. "How about you folks go stand over by the empty corral there and Sam and I will send them horses over to ya' one at time. That way ya' can take a look at 'em and see what ya' think."

"Sounds fine." Jed agreed. He offered his arm to Beth and they walked over to the second corral and waited for the show to begin.

Didn't take long before Sam and Deke had grabbed their lariats and squeezed through the fence of the first corral. Then Sam went to the adjoining gate and opened it for Deke to single out one of the colts and send it running through the opening and into the second corral. They'd give each horse about ten minutes to run around, showing off its gaits before sending in the next horse until all ten found themselves running around the second corral wondering what in the world all the fuss was about.

At first Jed didn't think he was going to be able to narrow down the possibilities all that easily. It was like letting a child loose in a candy store—so many fine choices it was hard to make a decision. The first few who had come trotting into the corral were fine looking animals indeed, but nothing stood out to make any of them more desirable than the others but then the forth youngster came galloping in and Jed perked up and took notice.

This colt was a nice bright chestnut with a star on his forehead, but no stockings. The first thing Jed noticed about him was his nice easy, swinging gait, and making his transitions between the gaits; walk to trot, trot to gallop and then back down to walk again were smooth and effortless. The colt had natural balance and could change his leads fluidly and without hesitation. Jed did like the look of him.

Then a few more were sent through and nothing else there caught his eye the way the chestnut had—that is until horse number eight charged through the gate and started to show off his own attributes. This fellow was a dark mahogany bay with a thin white blaze running down his face and four white stockings. He had everything in his gaits that the chestnut did but with a little bit of flash thrown in and Jed took to him right away.

Still, he wanted to be sure. He and Heyes had always tried to stay away from horses that had a lot of white on them as they tended to stand out in the crowd and be noticed. A horse that was more non-descript, like the chestnut was a wiser choice for an outlaw. But Jed had to keep on reminding himself that he wasn't an outlaw anymore and maybe it was time for something with a little bit more sparkle to it.

He watched the horses milling around together for a while, taking note of their temperaments and their pecking order. The chestnut was proving to be fairly dominant in his bearing and was laying his ears back and going after any of the other colts who got too close to him. The others were quick to get out of his way, having felt the sting of his teeth and the pounding of a well placed hoof on past occasions.

The bay was up there in the pecking order, but not right at the top. He was self-assured but not aggressive and only backed off from the chestnut and one other colt that hadn't interested Jed at all. Hmm, this was proving to be a difficult choice to make. Still, a horse that was too aggressive could be more trouble than it's worth, but did he really want one that was going to stand out in the crowd. Hmmm.

"Any one catch your eye?" Beth asked him.

"Yeah, now that you ask." Jed told her and he pointed them out. "That chestnut over there and the dark bay with the white legs."

Beth nodded. "Yes, I agree. Those were the two that caught my eye as well. I also like that little roan there but I think he's a little too little for you."

"Yeah." Jed agreed with a smile. "I kinda like a horse to have a bit more height than that one. Course, they're not full-grown yet, he could catch up."

Beth shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. If there are others you like, why take the chance?"

"Good point." Jed agreed. "Well, let's see what Sam and Deke have to say. They've been working with these horses, so I suppose they'll know 'em pretty good."

Beth nodded agreement and Jed waved the two wranglers over for a conference.

"Anything ya' like?" Deke asked.

"Yeah." Jed said, and pointed out the two that had caught his eye.

Deke nodded approvingly. "Well, you know your horseflesh alright. They both got good solid builds and strong legs. Nice comfortable gaits."

"Yeah, but you know their temperaments." Jed pointed out. "Which one do you think would make the best riding horse?"

"Depends on what ya' want." Deke commented evasively. "Some people like a bit of fire in their horses, others just want a good steady mount. What are you lookin' fer?"

"Just a good solid mount." Jed admitted. "I don't need fire."

Deke smiled and nodded. "I'd say the bay then." He suggested. "They both got brains, but where as the bay wants to learn new things, the chestnut tends to use his brain ta' try an' figure out how ta' avoid learnin' new things. We'll break 'em out right and he'll make a fine ridin' horse, but he'll always have a bit of a stubborn streak to 'em. That bay will make ya' a good willin' horse. And we'll break 'em out right for ya' no need to worry 'bout that."

"Well now that's just fine." Jed agreed with a smile. "The bay it is.

"Good." Deke commented. "Give us a month ta' get 'em broke out an' then I suppose Sam can bring 'em down to the ranch house fer ya'. How does that sound?"

"That's just fine." Jed said. "Bridget's wedding will be done and out of the way by then so it'll give him a chance to get used to things without all the hubbub of a social gathering to confuse the issue."

"Now that that's settled, you folks like some coffee before ya' head back?" Deke asked. "It's a bit of a ride, might as well take a break while ya' can get it."

Both Jed and Beth smiled at the offer.

"That'd be mighty fine."

"Thank you."

_Dear Joshua;_

_As promised I am going to give you as detailed an account of our wedding day as is possible in the time allowed. Steven and I are going to be heading out soon for our honeymoon which is going to be two weeks in San Francisco. Well, not all the two weeks will be spent there, some of the time will be spent getting there in the first place and then coming back again._

_Thaddeus commented that you both know some people in that city and even gave us the address of one; Silky O'Sullivan and told us to be sure to drop by and introduce ourselves. Thaddeus seemed to think that there was a joke in there somewhere as he couldn't stop laughing, which I thought to be rather odd. He did however assure us that he would send Mr. O'Sullivan a telegram to inform him of our coming and to be sure to show us the sights!_

_Oh dear! I've jumped ahead of things here haven't I? Clem and I spent the day before the wedding out at the ranch, while Steven stayed in town because we all know that it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding! I believe David Gibson and Thaddeus did a lot to keep Steven occupied throughout the evening and indeed even seemed to manage to get themselves into some trouble of sorts over at the local saloon. Not quite sure what that was all about—nobody's saying._

_Still we ladies had quite the time together here at home getting all the last minute things ready for the big day. Of course we had the ceremony out at the ranch and pretty much the whole town was invited. (Don't be mad Joshua, but I even invited Sam and Maribelle. I still haven't quite forgiven him his transgressions, but after what they went through Momma felt that it would be a good gesture.). Anyway—yes we all had such good fun that evening with telling stories and finishing up the baking for the next day. It must have been well on to midnight before we blew out the lamps and headed for bed._

_Momma even took me aside at one point during the evening to tell me a little bit more about what to expect on my wedding night. At first I thought that this was rather silly of her—as if I didn't know! But then I came to realize that 'no!' I didn't know! At first I felt a little scared and skeptical. Steven has always been so kind and gentle with me that of course he wouldn't do 'THAT'! That's disgusting! At which point Momma just laughed and assured me that I probably wouldn't find it disgusting once we got down to it!_

_Now of course, that we've had our wedding night, I must say….OH! No I don't think I should say! I believe I have already said more than what is proper for a young woman to say to a man who is not her husband! But I must say that I never would have thought…oh! Never mind. You being a man of course you know all about this stuff and indeed, you must be laughing at my naivety!_

_Oh, but I've gotten ahead of myself again! It's just that I'm so happy! 'Bridget Granger', 'Mrs. Steven Granger'—either way, it does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I can't believe that I am actually a married woman now! I thought that I would feel different; that being married would somehow make me older or wiser or just different. But other than being incredibly happy I'm still the same old me._

_It was just such a lovely day. The weather could not have been nicer—oh thank goodness it didn't rain! We had far too many guests to fit everyone into the house and everything was all laid out already for an outdoor gathering, so we were fortunate there. The flowers and decorations that Clem and Beth had gathered and placed around at the tables were very appropriate and gave the air a wonderful scent of summertime freshness._

_Momma gave me her wedding dress to wear and it was so beautiful! It was made from a really lovely cream coloured material that was so soft and silky to the touch, and embroidered with ribbons and lace with yellow flower designs running through it all. The veil I wore was also that lovely lace with the floral design. It was so pretty and I was so excited when Momma pulled it out of her oak chest and presented to me to wear on my day. I think Beth was jealous!_

_Of course Papa gave me away and he looked so different, but quite handsome in his suit. He was so pleased that I was happy, but he looked a little sad too on occasion when he didn't think I was looking at him. But still, on the most part I think he was happy and I know he likes Steven very much. OH! And Steven! Well, I always knew he was a handsome man of course, but he looked absolutely gorgeous in his wedding attire! I must say that there's just something about getting a man all spiffyed up and into a suit that just gets my heart a pitter pattering!_

_And Thaddeus—oh my! I remember seeing him in a suit way back when Momma was on trial, and thought then how handsome he was, but that was nothing compared to how he was looking on my day! As I said; I knew he was handsome—well of course, that's obvious! But seeing him dressed to the nines in that fine charcoal gray suit just took my breath away, if I can say that about a man who was not my husband-to-be while at my wedding! Still, he and Beth spent most of the day in each other's company when she wasn't performing her Maid-of-Honour duties and I must say that they made a very lovely couple! Maybe we'll get something going there yet!_

_Then seeing Thaddeus all dressed up and looking so fine, made me think about what you would look like in a nice suit! Hmmm. You would have been turning some heads as well, I'm sure. But then of course, thinking along those lines, it made me a little sad that you could not be here to enjoy this day with us. I had so hoped that all this nonsense would have been cleared away and part of the past by now. I missed your presence here very much and I know that Thaddeus did too._

_Don't get me wrong, Thaddeus had a good time and he and David seemed to be able to find something funny in just about everything that went on. Really, they were like a pair of little boys continually laughing at some inside joke! But just occasionally when there would be a lull in their merriment Thaddeus would take on a more melancholy expression and I knew that he was thinking of you._

_We all missed having you there Joshua, and I know that Steven and I are taking time away for our honeymoon, but as soon as we get back we will be hard at it again. Steven has just about all the testimonies gathered up now and the main thing left to do is to get a date set up. Of course the officials at the other end don't seem to be in any hurry to do this so it's taking a lot of pushing and persistence to get them to sit up and take notice. Why does everything have to take so long!_

_Anyway—sorry; I don't want to make you sad. This is supposed to be a happy letter, telling you all about our happy day! And it was a glorious day! Momma did so much to make everything come together and though she had help from most of the ladies here, she was still the one who organized it all and I will be forever thankful to her for that._

_Momma actually did very well throughout the whole day and I know she had a good time too, but the next morning, when Steven and I were leaving for our honeymoon, she had a hard time holding it together. I never really thought about how this was for her, watching me, a married woman now, leaving with my new husband to begin a new life. Once I realized it, I felt bad about leaving, almost like I was abandoning her! But then, being Momma she saw my distress and quickly hugged me and let me know that all was well and that she was very happy for me._

_She must know that I love her dearly and that she will never be far from my thoughts. Denver is not that far off so of course we will be coming out for holidays and visits throughout the year—it's not like she's never going to see me again! Still, I suppose watching your children depart the family home must be difficult. But she still has Beth and little Jay to keep her busy so I'm sure she'll be fine._

_Anyway, back to the wedding day—again! Clementine is also quite the gal to have at a party! She was so full of high spirits the whole day that it would have been impossible for anyone not to be affected by it. Of course some of the ladies weren't quite sure how to take her as she insisted on flirting shamelessly with all the men present, whether they be married or not! She even flirted with Steven! Can you imagine? But I've known her long enough now to know that she means nothing by it and that it's just her way!_

_The only thing that would have made the day more perfect of course would have been your presence. But I did as you suggested and I held you in my thoughts and in my heart throughout the day and so in a way, yes—you were here with me. I hope that you thought to do the same at your end and that you were able to feel some happiness and joy for me on my wedding day._

_Oh and my ring! Goodness gracious—how could I have forgotten about that!? It's so beautiful. Of course it wasn't until after the ceremony that I actually took the time to look at it, and then it just took my breath away! It's a gold band (of course) but more than just that! Steven had had it made especially for me, adorning the band with a lovely diamond and then including my birth stone—one on either side of the diamond! And then some very delicate floral engravings set right into the gold, curling around and accentuating the stones. It's so lovely; I can't wait to show it to you! _

_I love you so much Joshua and aside from Steven, you are my dearest friend. Please stay safe and well and I will come out for a visit again as soon as I am able._

_With much love and warm wishes_

_Bridget (Granger!)_

Heyes sat back on his cot and sighed. He took a sip of coffee and a nibble of cookie and despite his efforts to feel differently, couldn't help but let a whiff of sadness wash over him. He had remembered to keep Bridget in his thoughts on the day of her wedding, but even though her doing so had helped her to feel his presence there, it hadn't helped him to feel the same way.

It had only made him melancholy and reminded him that yet again, he was missing out on all the fun things in life. Still, he had sent her good wishes in his mind and tried to picture her all dolled up and looking every bit the blushing bride. He hoped that a photographer had been present to take pictures, even though Bridget hadn't mentioned one. It would be nice to at least see some images from the day. No harm in asking.

Well, the oldest bird has certainly left the nest now. No turning back. Clementine and Beth had gone on and on and on about the nice little house that Steven had bought in Denver and how Bridget had gone on and on and on about getting it furnished and ready for the newlyweds to come home to. Heyes couldn't help but give a little laugh about how much that must have cost the young lawyer. Still, Heyes assumed the man could afford it—goodness knows Jesse is paying him well enough and that this case certainly wasn't the only one Steven had on his books.

Funny, Heyes mused to himself; how some people just seem to fall into money where others have to scramble and scrape their whole lives long just to make ends meet. Heyes and the Kid, well they'd kind of had it both ways in their thirty odd years of living. Of course they had been somewhat poor farmers when they had been with their families, homesteading on the Kansas/Missouri border, but they had just been kids and hadn't known any different. They had a bed to sleep in, enough to eat (usually) and parents who loved them so they hadn't felt in want of anything.

Then being at Valparaiso had really given them something to compare their farm life to and they considered that what they'd had and lost was riches beyond compare. Life after the orphanage hadn't been any treat either. Talk about being dirt poor then—hell, they didn't even own the dirt! Having money just didn't seem to be something they'd ever know about.

Then life had changed! Fifteen years of living the good life! So much money they'd had to become inventive to figure out ways of spending it all! Yeah, they were set alright. Next job they'd pull, that's the one when they'd start saving some of it, start putting some away for a nest egg and then they'd never have to worry about being poor again!

Funny how that 'next job' never came though—how the money always just slipped through their fingers and disappeared. Then they'd gone for the amnesty and there they were right back to being dirt poor again—Geesh, come around full circle it seemed. Oh, money came their way sometimes but it never seemed to stay for long and they'd end up living hand to mouth. Other people seemed to be able to make money off of them, but funny how none of it seemed to end up in their pockets.

Now—well, what could one say about now? A person couldn't be any poorer than being in prison. Then Heyes started mumbling to himself and shaking his head at the way his life had turned out, and the Kid's. Heyes was trapped; there wasn't much he could do about his circumstances, but Kid? How much longer was he going to wait? If he wanted to reap any benefit from this life at all he'd better be getting on with it!

There was no reason why Kid couldn't get married and still carry on the good fight to get Heyes pardoned. Especially if he chose to marry Beth because goodness knows she isn't about to give it up! Maybe seeing Steven and Bridget make this important step in their lives would help Kid to see that he didn't have to sacrifice one for the other, he could have both.

Heyes sighed again. Took another sip of coffee and another nibble of cookie. Sigh. Nothing like a wedding to make one reflective of their own lives, and the lives of their friends. Well, he thought to himself; he'd keep hanging on as best he could for a while longer. At least until after the hearing just to see where that got them, if anywhere. Besides he had a purpose in life for now, and that was to make sure that Kyle made it through his sentence without getting beat up or knifed. It was only two years, less than that, more likely and then he'd be outa here, and a free man.

Lobo was another matter. Not only did that particular inmate not want Heyes' help, Heyes hoped he'd be outa here himself by the time Lobo's sentence was completed. Jeez, I hope so, Heyes thought. I don't think I could last another eight years in here! He didn't think Kid could last another eight years of Heyes being in here either! Sigh. Yeah, Kid had to get on with his life sooner rather than later.

Heyes nodded to himself. He decided right then and there; he'd hang on until Kyle got his release, or until the hearing brought about some positive results. After that, if he was still stuck in here then he would do whatever he had to do to ensure that Jed Curry moved on with his life and started building something for himself before it was too late.

To Be Continued


	27. Chapter 27

Los Vientos

Heyes was standing outside in the yard. He was leaning against the hand railing for the stairs which led up to the second floor entrance. There were other inmates milling about, getting some fresh air before supper time, and of course there were the ever present guards, ever presently watching. But Heyes was alone. He stood staring through the far wall that was just one of the walls that enclosed him. He didn't see it—he wasn't seeing anything. He was lost in his own world.

He could feel the change in the air. Funny how summer always went by so quickly, even in this God forsaken place. Summer was one brief respite from the cold winds and the rain and the ice and snow of winter. He could feel the wind now disguising itself as a soft summer breeze just waiting for the opportunity to turn mean, for the temperatures to drop and the leaves to change colour. Just waiting, waiting….waiting.

Kyle walked by, his jaws working on a plug of tobacco, his brown stained teeth showing in a wide grin as he greeted his friend and protector. Heyes absently responded with a breath of a smile that disappeared as soon as the other man had passed by. He was heading over to walk the perimeter with Ames, Heyes noted. It seemed that Kyle and Ames had struck up a bit of a friendship somehow. Hmmm, that could get interesting what with Ames' inclination towards setting fires, and Kyle's fascination with explosives. Better keep an eye on those two.

Lobo wasn't out in the yard which didn't surprise Heyes at all. Lobo didn't really socialize with anyone, lone wolf that he was. Even up at the Hole it had taken Lobo a couple of years before he really settled in as part of the gang. Heyes' lips tightened in a show of irritation when he thought of his underling—oh, Lobo would hate being referred to as an 'underling'! A flash of a malicious smile loosened Heyes' lips as he thought about how easy it was to get a rise out of that wolf.

What was the matter with that old reprobate anyways? Heyes' expression turned furtively reflective and his brow tightened. What made him think that he was so different from the rest of them? Nobody liked being in here—well; exceptin' Kyle, maybe—so why couldn't he just accept his fate and stop acting like the whole world has done him a disservice? 'Any man who would accept this over an honourable death wasn't worth the money posted on him' indeed! Heyes snorted. And he thought Karma was a diva!

Heyes took a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh. His thoughts returned to the visitors he'd had earlier that afternoon and another smile played about his lips—only this time it was genuine and filled with affection. Bridget had come by with her husband of one month in tow. Officially it had been a visit with his lawyer, accompanied by his assistant, but in reality it had been a visit with his good friend, accompanied by her new husband!...

"….Oh Joshua! It is so good to see you! I had hoped to get out sooner, but as soon as we got back from San Francisco there were just so many things that had to be taken care of right away. Steven had a number of cases on the go that needed some immediate attention since he'd been away from them for two weeks and our new home needed some organizing if we ever intend to feel comfortable living there…!"

"That's alright Bridget. It's good to see you…."

"Oh, San Francisco was so fascinating! And your friend, Mr. O'Sullivan was so kind and generous. He took us out to some of the finest restaurants I've ever been in—ones that I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams could even exist, they were so exquisite! And they had music with live orchestras and even a singer who came out on the small stage to sing beautiful music while we had dinner—I'd never heard anything so beautiful before, I would never have believed that a woman could sing like that if I hadn't heard it with my own ears!

"And all the sights were just amazing! Though Mr. O'Sullivan wasn't able to spend every day with us he did have one of his employees take us around town and to all the different attractions that by the time we'd return to our hotel room in the evenings all I could do was sleep!—Oh well actually that's not entirely true! We still certainly had energy for—oh well…you know." Then she blushed sweetly and sent an embarrassed smile over to her husband.

Heyes' brows went up as his dimples peeked through and he sent a humourous glance over to Steven. Steven was using all of his practice as a lawyer in the courtroom in order to maintain a straight face but then the two men exchanged knowing smiles and the young lady continued to prattle on.

"And did you see my ring Joshua? Isn't it beautiful?" She held out her left hand for her friend to see.

Heyes leaned forward to admire the piece of jewelry and had to admit even to himself that it was an exquisite item. The instincts of the thief in him were awakened briefly as he calculated the value of the stones and whether they would fetch more taken apart and sold separately or kept intact as it was and sold as a piece of art. He smiled and then switched over to being just a friend, viewing it for what it was; a lovely ring, given as a symbol of committed love.

"Yes Bridget." He agreed quietly. "It is beautiful."

"And he gave me a lovely necklace and earrings as well as part of a matching set for the ring." She continued. "Oh! I should have thought to wear them today so you could have seen them—they are just so lovely!"

Heyes smiled, he brain again automatically calculating the value of such an exquisite collection of stones and gold.

"It's best you didn't." He commented with an even deeper smile. "Too many thieves around here for them to stay safe."

"I do wish you could have been at the ceremony Joshua!" Bridget continued without skipping a beat. "It was so lovely, and we do have photographs coming. Mr. Hendricks, the photographer in town, you know—he's getting them all developed and then he'll be bringing them to us. I will be sure to send you copies just as soon as I can. Of course, seeing them in black and white is nothing compared to how everything looked first hand, but it'll be better than nothing—give you an idea anyways of what a beautiful day it was! Why are you looking at me like that Joshua? What's so funny?"

"No, nothing's funny." Heyes assured her, bringing his grin down a couple of notches. "I was just thinking about something you wrote to me in your letter."

"What was that?"

"Well, that you didn't think you had changed." He explained. "That you thought you should feel different now that you were married, but that you didn't—that you were still just you. But you have changed Bridget. Right before my eyes. You've blossomed into a beautiful young woman and part of me is happy and excited to see you all grown up and starting out on this new adventure. But another part of me is sad. Sad at having to say 'goodbye' to the little girl who had to be dragged out from under the porch to say 'hello'." Then he laughed. "The little girl who didn't mind taking pot shots at a sheriff in order to help us get away!"

Bridget sat quietly for a moment, scrutinizing her friend who was sitting across the table from her. Their eyes met and locked and it seemed in that moment that a lifetime of love and understanding passed between them and Heyes' eyes took on a sadness that he could feel right down into the pit of his soul. Bridget sent him a soft smile and then rules be damned, she got up from her chair and walking around the table, she gave him a warm hug and kissed him on the top of his shaved head.

Heyes hadn't expected that, and it took him by surprise how good it felt to receive such a genuine hug from a young lady who knew him for who he was and for what he was and yet still loved him dearly. He closed his eyes as he leaned into her arms and she held him tight like that for a moment.

Then she whispered. "I'll love you, Joshua. You'll always be my friend." Then she gave him another kiss and returned to her chair to sit back down beside her husband.

Heyes grinned as he watched her. His throat was burning and he could feel his eyes starting to mist a little bit, so he blinked them a few times and gave a little cough and then settled back into his chair and didn't say anything until he could be sure he was safe…

….Heyes brought himself back to reality and took a quick look around the yard. He needed to pinpoint where Thompson was as he didn't feel like receiving a punch in the gut for simply having a smile on his face. There were so few pleasant memories from this place that the ones he did have he tended to cherish, but that didn't mean he should let his guard down like that.

He released a quiet sigh of relief when he didn't spot Thompson anywhere around him, nor Carson either so maybe it was safe for him to dwell in the past for just a little while longer. Davis was over there by MacKenzie and Murrey was casually walking around the parameter swinging his bully club and keeping a general eye over the outside populace. Neither one of those guards made a habit of executing sneak attacks on the inmates so Heyes relaxed a little and allowed his eyes to close and to feel the soft summer breeze coax him back into his pleasant memories….

…..Steven watched this whole exchange between his wife and his client, feeling a little bit of jealousy but also at the same time feeling like he was an intruder on a private moment. He was accustomed to seeing his client taciturn and moody or angry and hostile or simply worried about his situation—and with good reason. But now that the moment had passed, he was smiling inwardly at how the loving touch of a young woman could often soften the toughest of hearts.

It reminded Steven of that day in the Cheyenne jailhouse when Bridget and snuck into the cell in order to comfort her friend after his ordeal while on the stand. He had still been feeling shockie and vulnerable after those terrifying repressed memories had re-surfaced and hit him so hard over the head. And then there was Bridget, rushing forward to hold and hug him, totally oblivious to the disapproving stares of the male authority figures that were in attendance.

Though Steven had been pretty much in the background during that encounter, he can still remember smiling to himself at the pretty young woman's audacity and spirit. He admired her determination to be there for her friend even though her presence in a jail cell was not considered 'proper behavior' for a woman. Steven suspected that he might have fallen in love with her right then and there—it just took his brain a little bit longer than his heart to figure it out!

Heyes smiled warmly over at his friend and she sparkled back at him. Steven abruptly came back from his own reminiscing and felt that perhaps it was time to move things along to a more official visit.

"Ahhmm, Mr. Heyes." Steven got his client's attention. "Part of our visit here today is that I wanted to bring you up to date on what we have accomplished so far towards setting up a hearing."

"Oh." Heyes sat up straighter and sent his full attention to his lawyer. "Yes, of course Mr. Granger, that's reasonable."

"Good." Steven smiled. "Now, I have been in touch with Mr. McCreedy again and he will try to attend if he is able. If not he will send another character testimonial to be presented. The time of year for the hearing will have a lot to do with his ability to attend so we are trying to get it set up for next spring."

Heyes face fell. "Oh." He mumbled. "That long? I had hoped before Christmas."

"I know." Steven looked sympathetic. "I'm afraid that these wheels do not turn quickly. Besides, it will probably take that long just to get everybody's testimonies organized."

"Yes. I suppose."

"Also." Steven continued. "I'm afraid retired Judge Hanley passed away ten months ago."

"Oh." Heyes mumbled again, his shoulders sagging with disappointment. "Yes, I am sorry to hear that." Then he glanced up suddenly realizing that he should clarify that comment. "I mean—not just for myself." He explained. "Judge Hanley was an honourable person and I am truly sorry to hear of his passing."

Steven nodded his understanding. "Mr. Brubaker, whom I believe you are also familiar with, has agreed to come forward to present Mr. Hanley's testimony if needs be. Post-mortem as it were."

"Ah." Heyes nodded.

"Of course, Sister Julia will come forward if we need her too, though she is reluctant." Steven continued. "She feels that her work here in the prison is important and that if she makes too strong a stand against the system then she may be blocked from continuing on with that work. Still she admits to feeling concern about the way things are managed so…"

"Yes." Heyes became more engaged with the conversation now, feeling that they were finally getting into an area where he had some input. "I wouldn't want the Sister to feel that she is obligated to come forward. She's right. Her work here is very important—more important than just my situation alone. I would prefer it if she were not called forward to testify."

Steven nodded. "I can understand you feeling that way Mr. Heyes" He said. "But we are uncomfortably close to not having enough eye witnesses to the abuses here to make a hearing worth organizing. I believe that Beth's account of the unprovoked assault upon you by the senior guard will have a powerful effect, but if we could also have the Sister there to back it up and to give details of other such incidences that could just be what tips the scale. I am still hopeful that Officer Reece will change his mind and come in person rather than simply sending a copy of his records, but I realize he also has other issues to consider." Heyes nodded agreement. "Still, with what Officer Reece and Doctor Morin are going to be submitting, well, as many different statements I can get that all support the same accusations the better off our chances will be."

Heyes pursed his lips and nodded again. "Hmmm. You're right, of course." He agreed, though reluctantly. "I just feel uncomfortable with these people taking chances on my account. Even just sending copies of their records could still get Reece and the Doc into a fair bit of trouble."

"They would not be doing it just on your account Mr. Heyes." Steven pointed out. "We are trying to set up an argument against the Auburn Prison System itself. Showing through your case in particular and others in general that it is the system, the way it is set up now, that allows physical, emotional and psychological abuses to continue in the management of the inmates. And to show the negative long-term effect of those abuses upon the people who are unfortunate enough to be incarcerated within these walls.

"Unfortunately in cases such as these, risks must be taken in order to bring forth the truth and to force a change within the system itself. It could get dangerous, but those people who have shown a willingness to come forward in whatever capacity are already aware of this since we will be challenging people in authority who do not wish to see the system changed."

Steven stopped here and looked to his client for some indication of what he was thinking. Heyes' poker face was on and he sat quietly, staring into nothing.

"We already discussed this Mr. Heyes and you agreed to go ahead with it." Steven finally pointed out, forcing the convict to engage again. "Are you now having second thoughts?"

"No! No." Heyes was quick to defend. "At least not for myself. I understand and accept the risks for me. I just don't like to see others put at risk by trying to help me."

Steven sighed and sat back in his chair. He folded his arms and scrutinized his client again. Having defended Hannibal Heyes throughout his trial Steven had some insight into the man's character, probably more than his wife did. He knew that Heyes was very protective of his friends and that he tended to keep his cards close, not letting too many people get in passed his defenses. Not surprising really, considering the life he had led since the death of his family but still difficult to deal with under these circumstances.

Bridget was feeling a little uncomfortable, sensing that her two favorite men on the planet (aside from her father, of course) were at odds with one another.

"As I've just stated, Mr. Heyes." Steven reiterated. "We are not doing this just for you. There is a far greater cause here than just your sentence. I realize that you are accustomed to being in charge of events—you are used to being in control. You are a natural born leader, even I can see that and as such you are willing to take on the responsibilities that come with leadership. You reap the benefits of success and you accept the consequences of failure.

"But in this situation you need to accept the fact that you are not the leader, you are not in control of the events and you are not solely responsible for the outcome. Others are picking up that role Mr. Heyes, and are willing to accept the consequences of their own choices. You have given the go ahead for us to put forth your situation as our prime example, but beyond that you have very little say over what is brought to light at the hearing. Nor can you control who comes forward to testify.

"Others are making those choices for themselves. The outcome of this hearing and the consequences, good or bad that befall the other people involved here are completely out of your hands. It is important that you understand this. That you accept the subordinate role in this situation and allow others to step up and take the lead. You are surrounded by friends here—friends who are willing to risk everything in order to help you and to see changes made in a system that is archaic to say the least. The question now is; are you still willing to accept your own risks by allowing them to do so? The last time we discussed this you indicated that you were and to be quite honest, it's a little late now to be changing your mind."

Heyes sat silently with his mouth half-open and stared at the lawyer. He couldn't quite believe the reprimand he had just received, and that from a man who was at least ten years his junior. Heyes smiled a little nervously, but for the life of him he couldn't come up with a response. Was he loosing his edge? Was time spent behind bars muddling up his brain? Or could it simply be that, politically correct as the reprimand had been, the lawyer had managed to hit the nail on the head and had forced Heyes to see the whole picture.

Once having realized that, Heyes relaxed his countenance and nodded.

"Yes, you're right Mr. Granger." He conceded. "Kid often accuses me of being too full of myself sometimes." Then he smiled openly. "And I guess he should know!"

"Oh, Joshua!" Bridget assured him. "You're not that—arrogant!"

He laughed. "Really?"

"Well…."

"Ah ha!" Then he dropped the teasing and nodded back at his lawyer again. "I have given the go ahead on this and I will not back down. Of course there is more at stake here than just my own personal future and the people who want to see changes made should be able to step forward and contribute to it. After all, if I'm willing to accept the risks, who am I to stand in the way of others doing the same?"

"My point exactly." Steven agreed.

Heyes smiled over at his friend. "You made a fine choice for a husband, Bridget." He told her. "I can already see that the two of you are going to do very well together."

Bridget beamed at her husband. "Yes." She agreed. "I think so too."

….Once again Heyes came back from his musings and noticed a change in the dynamics of the prison yard. Nothing extreme, just that people were starting to make their way back indoors. Hmm, must be supper time. Heyes pushed himself up from his leaning post and took one last look around before heading inside himself.

Late August, almost September and there was a soft breeze whisping around the yard but there was a definite change in the feel of it. Heyes lifted his head slightly and sniffed the air; yes, definitely a change. There was a chill coming.

Mid morning on a bright Autumn Saturday and Jed was in the barn saddling up his new gelding. Sam and Deke had done a fine job of breaking the animal out and Deke had been right in his decree that the young horse would make a willing partner. The more Jed became acquainted with the animal the more pleased he became with his choice and knew that all it needed now to make a great riding horse was just more miles under his girth.

Every day Jed made a point of throwing a leg over the animal's back and getting him out for a ride, even if it was only for half an hour or so. He made a point of getting him out to different sections of the ranch, and also going into town to get him used to all the different noises and contraptions that went along with being a horse in a human's world. It was actually kind of fun and Jed was enjoying introducing the horse to all these new experiences and at the same time, building a good solid foundation of trust and camaraderie that would stay with them throughout their relationship.

Today was going to be a little different though. Jed and Beth were going to get out for one more picnic ride before the weather became too chilly to make such an excursion enjoyable. Daisy was old enough to be left on her own for a while, since she wasn't totally dependant upon mother's milk anymore. She also felt quite safe and happy in the company of her Uncle Buck, so taking Karma out for a ride wasn't quite the issue that it once had been.

Jed had just finished tightening up the girth when he heard the clop clop of horses' hooves on the wooden floor of the aisle and looked up to see Beth (in her very fetching riding habit) leading Karma into the barn for a quick brushing off and tacking up. There wasn't even a nicker of protest coming from the pasture and Karma was totally unconcerned about her baby so obviously both were quite comfortable with the opportunity for some time apart!

"Where would you like to go to this time Beth?" Jed asked her. "The north pasture again?"

"No, we've been there so much lately." She commented. "Why don't we head over Maple Ridge way? Papa is thinking about buying a parcel of land up there and it would be nice to take a look at it."

"Alright." Jed agreed. "Maple Ridge it is."

Beth made short time of getting Karma ready and before too many minutes had passed the two friends were leading their horses out of the barn in preparation of heading out for the day. The two little dogs had been hanging around in the barn with the humans and then followed them outside to see if anything more was going on that they could be a part of. But once their humans had mounted up and were heading out of the yard, they knew that they weren't going along, so they both settled in beside old Rufus who was stretched out in the sun and hadn't moved a muscle all morning. He made a really nice pillow.

"So, have you come up with a name for him yet?" Beth asked. "You've had him for a while now, don't you think it's time you stopped referring to him as 'the new horse'?"

"Yeah, I know." Jed agreed with a bit of a grimace. "I'm not good at picking names. How about Buck the second?"

"No!" Beth responded with a bit of a face. "That's not fair to either one of them. Buck is Buck. You need to give this fellow his own name."

"Hmmm, I suppose." Jed mumbled. "I guess I'm just waiting for something to come to mind."

"Don't wait too long." Beth advised with a smile. "Or his name is going to be 'Hey You'!"

Jed grinned. "Yup."

"Oh alright, I'll drop it!" Beth gave in with a laugh. "Karma is fighting with me here, I think she's ready for a gallop—shall we?"

"After you."

Three hours later the two friends were casually sitting their horses and looking out over the afore mentioned land parcel and discussing the pros and cons of it becoming a part of the Double J.

"What do you think?" Beth asked.

"I donno." Jed admitted. "Just looks like land to me. What would you need it for?"

Beth shrugged. "Land is money." She stated bluntly. "We'd have the room to expand our cattle herd and cattle are where the money is. I love raising the horses." She admitted with a smile. "But unfortunately they just don't bring in the revenue that the cattle do. We've had a couple of very good years and can afford to buy it now and then expand and that's what it's all about you know; growth."

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed conceded. "I guess I just don't know enough about business and building up something like this to really be able to give an opinion. All Heyes and I ever did was live one day at a time—even when we had money."

"Well, yes. I can understand that." Beth commented while Karma stamped a back foot and swished at an annoying fly. "You probably didn't even think that you had a future, so what was the point of planning for it?"

"Yeah."

"But you have a future now." Beth pointed out to him with a smile. "It's not too late to start making plans."

"Oh, I know." Jed agreed, and then laughed. "I actually have a bank account! Can you believe that? Kid Curry has a bank account!"

"Of course you do!" Beth said. "You have a job, you get paid, and you have a bank account! See—you're already planning for your future, you just didn't know it!"

Jed stretched out his back and then leaned onto his saddle horn while the two horses grazed.

"Yeah, I suppose." He commented, though not sounding too convinced. "All I can see in my future right now is getting Heyes his pardon. I can't really focus on other plans until that gets taken care of."

"Yes, I know." Beth agreed with him. "That's important and none of us are going to let that go." Jed nodded. "But that doesn't mean that you can't still be setting the ground work for your life after that. In fact, if you don't mind my saying; it seems to me that you are already doing that. Whether you are aware of it or not, you are already setting the groundwork for when it's time to move on."

Jed tensed just a little bit. He wasn't so sure that he liked the sound of that. Beth realized that she'd given the wrong impression and quickly back stepped. She reached over and put a consoling hand on her friend's arm.

"Oh no, Thaddeus!" She stated. "I didn't mean to say that you were going to turn your back on Joshua! None of us are planning on doing that. I just meant that you are settling into a new life now—a life that's offering you a future. And that's a good thing, isn't it?"

Jed relaxed again and gave a deep sigh. "I don't know. I suppose." He mumbled. "I just can't imagine moving on into new ventures without Heyes with me. We've always been partners, still are. It just doesn't seem right to be making plans for my future while he is still in there."

"But I'm not suggesting that that's what you're doing." Beth defended herself. "Only that you are laying in the ground work for when that future becomes available to you. And whether you agree with me or not, I still believe that is a good thing."

Jed smiled over at her. "Okay. I'll grant you that much."

"Good!" Beth stated. "Now, how about we find a nice comfortable spot and settle in to some lunch?"

"Sounds good to me!"

It didn't take long for a spot under a tree to make itself available, and stripping the horses of their tack, they sent them out to graze close to the small stream that gurgled past their chosen site.

Short work was made of the sandwiches and lemonade and everyone just sat back and relaxed for a while, enjoying the warmth that the fall sun was still willing to give them before the afternoon turned the air chilly again.

"So you think Karma is in foal again?" Beth asked casually because she herself was already pretty sure of it.

"I expect so." Jed concurred with her opinion. "It's been over a month since we bred her and no sign of her coming into season again. So, I expect she is."

"Yes, I think so too." Beth admitted with a smile. "Papa deserves to get his colt this time and if Daisy is anything to go by, this new blood is really going to bring our breeding program up a few notches."

"Well good." Jed nodded. "I know Heyes is hoping so too. I guess he's feeling a little obligated to your Pa as well, for all he has done and is still doing, for us."

"You don't owe him anything Thaddeus." Beth informed him. "Actually, helping you and Joshua now is his way of paying you back."

"I know that's what he says." Jed countered. "But we didn't really do anything, and besides even what he feels we did do for him, he's more than paid us back for that. I mean, it was those idiots from back east who were willing to pay big money for some so called history who gave Jesse the break, not us."

"Well, it was because of you." Beth pointed out. "And even at that you both did a lot to try and help us. That thousand dollars you left in the cookie jar just seemed to be the catalyst that put all the rest of it in motion. If it wasn't for you and Joshua we would never have been able to sell that old ranch and buy this place along with some good quality breeding stock. And since then we've just grown in leaps and bounds." Then she smiled conspiratorially. "I do all the books for the ranch now." She confided in her friend. "So I know; Papa is a very wealthy man Thaddeus and whether it was your conscious intent or not, it was you and Joshua who gave this family the step up that we needed and all we've had to do is help it to grow.

"So don't you go feeling like you have to pay anything back, alright? Papa is just thrilled to be able to use Karma to get our new foundation sire and that's enough."

"Yeah, alright." Jed smiled. "Of course if Karma continues to produce fillies your papa's enthusiasm might start to ware thin!"

"She won't." Beth was adamant. "Her next foal will be a colt."

"Well now there you go—sounding just like your papa!" Jed complained. "How can you be so sure?"

"I asked Papa that." Beth contemplated. "Because like you say; he was sounding pretty confident about that right from the start."

"Yeah."

"And I have to admit." Beth continued. "That once he had shown me the breeding records and pointed out some consistencies' I had to agree with him. Karma's next foal is going to be a colt."

"But how do you know?!" Jed was getting frustrated. "There's no way you can possibly predict that!"

Beth sent him a self-satisfied smile. "Yes there is." She told him. Jed sent her a very reproachful and doubtful look, and then waited for the explanation. Beth's expression turned thoughtful as she considered her answer. "I don't know why it happens. I can't explain it and neither can Papa. We just know that it does happen because it's right there in writing in the breeding records. It seems that for some reason, if you take a mare and a stallion that have never been bred together before and then breed them for two successive years in a row, then the foals will be one of each gender."

"Oh, c'mon!" Jed retorted skeptically. "How is that possible?"

Beth shrugged. "Like I said; we can't explain it, but we're seeing it, time after time. That's what happens. But it has to be two horses that have never been bred together before, and it has to be two years in a row. If you skip a year and then breed back, it doesn't work, and after the first two years it again no longer applies and it's anybody's guess what the gender of the foals will be.

"But, if you stick to those guidelines, then if, as in our case here, the first breeding results in a filly, then the second breeding will give us the colt. And vice versa; if the first foal is a colt, then the second will be a filly. But the third breeding and all breedings after that, well it's a crap shoot again, it's anybody's guess."

Jed was still looking very skeptical about this, it just didn't make sense. "I don't know Beth. That seems kinda far fetched to me."

Beth just smiled and shrugged. "I know. But I'll show you the records when we get back if you like. It's right there, written down in black and white. Now one could argue that it's just coincidence, that it's not a hundred percent guarantee but it happens often enough for me to be convinced; the next foal is going to be a colt."

"Well, okay Beth, if you say so." Jed conceded the point. "I suppose time will tell."

"Yes it will." Then she shivered a little bit. "I'm starting to get chilly. Let's say we head home okay?"

"Yeah, it's getting on to that time anyways." Jed agreed. "I'll go collect the horses if you want to start packing up here."

Jed got to his feet and offered his hand to Beth and then he turned and headed over the short distance to where the two horses were contentedly grazing. He was still shaking his head and thinking about the rationalization that Beth had just presented to him when he was brought up short in his musings by the actions of the two horses. Quite suddenly, and simultaneously both animals spooked on the spot and with heads and tails up they stared back towards Beth, wide eyed and flared nostrils' blowing their agitation.

Jed spun and pulling his six-shooter followed the intense gaze of the horses. At first he didn't see anything out of the ordinary; just Beth standing there and casually folding the 'table cloth' they had been using for their lunch. Then a slight movement behind her caught his eye and fear tingled down his spine and numbed his fingers.

A small cougar, old and hungry by the looks of it, but still quite lethal was into it's hunting crouch and with head down and ears back, its green, intense eyes had zeroed in on Beth as easy prey and was getting ready to make its charge! Jed looked to his rifle tucked into the scabbard on his saddle, but it was too far away for either of them to get to it in time. Jed aimed his six shooter but then Beth moved and inadvertently placed herself between Jed and the cat, blocking his line of fire.

"Beth!" He called to her in a loud whisper. "Beth, get down!"

"What?" She asked with creased brow. "What do you mean?"

Jed made a violent downward motion with his left hand. "Get down!"

Then the cat screamed and fear filled Beth's eyes as she spun around just as the cougar started its charge. Beth spun again and with heart racing she ran towards Jed just as he fired his gun into the air hoping that the loud noise would scare the cat off. But the animal must have been famished because the report didn't even cause it to hesitate and it left the ground with front paws reaching and talons extended with murderous intent.

Jed had run to the side in the hopes of getting a clear shot at the cat, but even as he did so, he knew he was too late. Terror grabbed his heart and he would have screamed out his rage and his anguish if his throat hadn't been tied in a knot!

Then out of nowhere there came a bellow of indignant rage and with a blur of dark chestnut horse hide, Karma came charging in from the side and knocking Beth out of the way she met the full force of the cat's leap. Amongst angry snarls and flailing legs the cougar did a complete somersault over the horse's withers and landed on its back with an indignant grunt. But it was on its feet again in an instant and screamed its anger at this foolish equine who had dared to interfere with its hunting.

It charged at the horse and lashed out with claws ready to rip and shred the flesh from her bones and teeth aching to sink into the neck and tear out her throat. But Karma jumped away from the lethal weapons and then she nimbly hopped over the angry feline and in one swift movement, she stretched her head down and grabbed hold of the end of the cats tail with her teeth.

Jed held Beth in his arms, both of them shaking with fear and adrenaline and watched in disbelief as Karma began her deadly dance. With the end of the tail clamped tight in her jaws, Karma started to spin on her hind quarters! Faster and faster she spun, swinging the cat in the air around with her. The cat was furious, screaming and snarling and trying for all it was worth to double itself over and get its front claws into that horse's face!

But the centrifugal force was too much for the cat to fight against and all of its indignant rage was for naught. Then Karma started to drop her head as she spun, slamming the cats head into the ground, spinning and slamming, spinning and whacking the cat into the tree trunk, spinning and slamming it into the ground again. The cat screamed and fought, its legs flailing until it encountered the tree trunk, at which point there was a loud crack as the cats skull exploded and then the next whap into the ground broke its neck and Karma was spinning and pounding a dead piece of meat.

Karma began to slow her spin down and then stopped. She released her grip on the tail and the dead cat flopped onto the ground, a broken and bloody mass of tawny hair and useless claws. Karma reached down to sniff it; she pawed at it a couple of times to make sure and then snorted and shook her head. She looked over at her two humans with pricked ears and eyes bright with pride and then with a toss of her dark chestnut mane she trotted over to the young gelding that was trembling and sweating with fear and in need of some reassurance.

Jed and Beth stood in each others embrace and stared with open mouths over at the dead cat, neither one of them quite believing what they had just witnessed. They were both still shaking with the fear and shock and were in no hurry to let go of one another. Other than those two emotions, Jed wasn't sure what he was feeling. In that instant when he thought that he had lost Beth, that he wasn't going to be able to save her, he had felt such terror as he'd never known before. Terror that he was going to lose her, terror that his own stubbornness had prevented a life of happiness with her before it had even begun.

Now, Beth was safe in his arms, pressing up against him and the feel of her breasts pushing against his chest was sending electric impulses through his body. He could feel her heart beating wildly and he held her tighter, not wanting to let her go as the realization of what he had almost lost came home to him full force. He was still shaking and his breathing was heavy, but it wasn't just from shock now, it was with excitement and arousal.

"Oh, Thaddeus!" Her voice was just a shaking whisper as she clung onto him. "That cat was going to kill me! Did Karma really do that? Thaddeus, did we actually see that?"

Then Jed took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up until she was looking into his eyes. Her breath caught and her heart was suddenly in her throat as she saw the passion in those blue depths gazing down at her.

"Thaddeus…." It was a whisper on the wind.

"Beth." He breathed softly.

"Yes."

"The name's 'Jed'."

Then he leaned down and kissed her fully on her mouth. Passion rose up in her, sensations that she had never experienced before assaulted her body. Not even that day when she had brazenly stolen her first kiss from him had she felt such arousal and she reached around him and pressed him into her even more, feeling his body against her and knowing that he wanted her.

She was filled with so many emotions that her body trembled and her breaths came in short gasps. Was this it? Was he going to take her? Was this when she was finally going to find out what it was all about? She wanted him so badly and her only concern was that through her own inexperience she might disappoint him.

She felt his right arm encircle her waist, pulling her in even closer to him and then his left hand was behind her head and his kiss went deeper and she opened up to him and suddenly felt like she was going to choke. Not only with all the new sensations, but also from the passions reaching up from her heart and grabbing hold of her throat from inside, making it hard for her to breathe.

Suddenly Jed groaned and he pushed away from her. He was trembling and breathing heavily, but slowly he shook his head and caressing her cheek, he looked with regret into her eyes.

"We shouldn't do this." He breathed. "This isn't right. We should wait."

Beth felt a wave of disappointment wash over her. "No." She whispered back at him. "I don't want to wait."

"I don't want to hurt you Beth." He said. "And it will hurt you. I don't want to frighten you."

"It's alright." She assured him and reached up to stroke his face. "Bridget told me about her wedding night, she told me what to expect. It's alright. I'm not frightened."

He leaned into her, hugging her to him and she could feel his breath tickling her ear.

"This isn't right." He repeated. "We should wait until we're married."

Beth felt a thrill of excitement wash over her! 'Married!' He'd actually said it! Now she wanted him more than ever. She pressed her body against his even more and all other thought was forgotten. He took her then-gently, lovingly, passionately. They made love in the sweet spring grass and nothing else mattered; he was lost in her.

Jed glanced up and surveyed the surrounding area. The two horses were contentedly grazing and other than that there was not another living soul around. He stood up and offered his hand to his lady.

"I hate to say it Beth, because it's going to be cold but we better go to the creek down there and wash off." He told her. "Otherwise your folks are gonna know instantly what went on up here."

"Oh!" A look of alarm flashed across her face, and taking his hand she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

But then he stopped her, and taking her naked body into his arms once more he pressed her against himself and caressed her hair. He looked down into her eyes and smiled at her.

"Are you alright?" He asked her gently.

She smiled. "Yes. I'm better than alright. You're wonderful. I love you—I always have."

Jed smiled and pulled her into a deeper hug. "I know. I love you too." He admitted. "I'm sorry it took me so long to be able to say it, or even to allow myself to feel it. But I do Beth, I love you too."

They held each other for a few more minutes not wanting to let it go, but then they knew they had to and gingerly made their way down to the creek. The water was indeed cold, but they braved the elements and among laughing and playful protesting they splashed each other down until they were thoroughly washed off. Then Jed quickly trotted over to their picnic area and making a point of not looking at the dead cat, he snatched up the picnic cloth and returned to Beth so they could use it to dry themselves off with.

After that it was a simple matter of quickly getting dressed before they chattered all their teeth out, getting the horses tacked up again and collecting all their picnic paraphernalia. Then they mounted up and headed for home before darkness caught them still out on the trail.

Over supper that evening all the excited talk was about the close call with the cougar and what an amazing thing that Karma had done to save her young mistress from certain death! Jesse and Belle listened intently feeling both fear over the safety of their daughter and amazement over the actions of the mare. Any sign of self-consciousness or anxiety between the two young people at the table was automatically accredited to the events of the day that involved a cat—and nothing more.

"Do you want to ride up there again tomorrow and see if you can selvage the pelt?" Jesse asked Jed.

"Naw, no point." Jed informed him. "That cat was old and malnourished, which was probably why it risked making such an attack in the first place. The pelt was already in sorry shape even before the cat died. I figured to just leave it up there for the scavengers."

"Hmm." Jesse nodded agreement. Then he smiled. "I guess we're just going to have to buy that parcel of land now! Can't have a memorable event like that take place and not own the land where it happened!"

"I'll certainly drink to that!" Jed agreed and sent a quick smile over to Beth.

Next morning Beth came clomping down the stairs all bright and happy, with a twinkle in her eye and a skip in her step. Her mother was in the kitchen getting breakfast going and keeping Jay occupied all at the same time.

"Beth!"

"Yes Momma?"

"Could you please come in here and feed Jay his breakfast?" Belle asked of her daughter. "He's just being a little hellion this morning."

Beth' shoulders slumped in disappointment, but she tried not to show it.

"Yes, Momma." She agreed, and quickly changed direction and headed into the kitchen rather than out to the barn where she knew Jed was feeding the livestock.

In the kitchen, Jay was sitting in his high chair, banging the spoon and flinging what was left of his oatmeal onto the floor and onto his mother, and not to mention rubbing it into his hair as well.

"You little monster." Beth accused him.

Jay laughed at her. "Mo'ster!" He agreed.

"Yes! Monster—you!"

He laughed again and threw another spoonful of oatmeal at his sister. She snatched the spoon and bowl away from him and grabbing a wet cloth, set about cleaning him up. Belle smiled as she dished out another serving of breakfast for him.

"Try and get as much into him as you can Beth." She said. "If he won't eat it then he'll just have to stay hungry until lunch."

"Yes Momma."

"That was some adventure you had yesterday." Belle commented. "Gives me the shivers just thinking about what a close call you had."

"Yes!" Beth agreed. "It was very terrifying at first. But then watching Karma attack that cat—I didn't think horses would do that!"

"It is unusual." Belle agreed. "I'd say that becoming a mother has really awakened the protective instinct in her and she certainly is fond of you."

"Yes, I suppose so." Beth commented absently as she started trying to spoon oatmeal into her squirming brother. "And poor Jed was absolutely terrified that that cat was going to get me."

Belle stopped stirring the pot of oatmeal and looked over at her youngest daughter.

"Jed?" She asked. "Not Thaddeus anymore?"

"Oh! Ummm." Suddenly Beth was blushing. "No, well…we were talking about things on the ride and he asked me to start calling him 'Jed' from now on." She shrugged self-consciously. "I don't really know why."

"Really." Belle stated dryly. "You and Thaddeus both seemed awfully flustered when you got back here last night. Now your Papa and I assumed it was because of the excitement with the cougar, but now…did something else happen?"

"No of course not Momma!" Beth insisted a little too quickly.

Belle sent a knowing smile over to her daughter. "Beth, is there something you want to tell me?"

"No Momma." But someone was looking more and more guilty as the moments passed.

"Well maybe I need to ask that question another way." Belle surmised. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Beth stood quietly looking down at her brother and trying to think of a way out of this without actually lying to her mother. Or at least, not lying any more than she already had. Jay started to get impatient; it was one thing for him to refuse to eat, but quite another for his sister to stop feeding him!

"Beth…?"

"How's breakfast coming along?" Jesse asked as he poked his head into the kitchen.

Both ladies jumped and Beth nearly dropped the bowl she was holding.

"Oh Jesse!" Belle admonished him. "You startled us!"

"Sorry." He apologized with a smile. "Need any help?"

"Well, if you want to take the coffee pot out to the table, I'll dish out the oatmeal and we'll bring it in."

"Okay."

Jesse took the pot and disappeared.

Belle sent a stern look to her daughter. "We'll talk about this later, young lady."

"Yes, Momma." Beth bit her lower lip.

There wasn't too much opportunity throughout the rest of that day for Belle to get the chance to speak with her daughter alone, but once her suspicions were aroused, she did spend a lot of time watching Thaddeus and Beth together. To the casual observer there were no obvious differences in the manner of how the two young people interacted with each other. Jesse was certainly oblivious. But Belle was not just a casual observer, she was a mother and she knew her daughter very well.

The quiet smiles the two of them exchanged, a hand on his arm, a caressing of her hair—a gentle kiss on her cheek when he thought no one was looking. Yes. By the time evening rolled around and Belle was knocking quietly on her daughter's bedroom door there was no longer any doubt at all in her mind that the relationship had changed dramatically.

"Beth, may I come in?"

"Yes, Momma." Came the quiet and resigned response from inside.

Belle entered the room and softly closed the door behind her. Beth was sitting on the edge of her bed, with her hands folded in her lap and looking as guilty as a cat in butter. Belle smiled at her daughter's discomfort then went and sat down on the bed beside her, and putting an arm around her shoulders gave her a gentle hug.

"I take it that your relationship with Thaddeus has gone through some changes?"

Beth bit her lower lip again. "Yes Momma." She admitted very quietly.

"Are you happy about it?" Belle asked her. "Is it what you wanted?"

Beth brightened up. "Oh yes Momma!"

"Thaddeus didn't pressure you, or force you in any way?"

"OH! No!" Beth was adamant. "Actually it was more…."

"The other way around?" Belle finished for her daughter.

Beth looked guilty again. "Yes."

Belle smiled and then let go a deep sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." She reflected. "You always were more outgoing than your sister. Once you decide you want something….."

"Then you're not mad?" Beth asked with hope starting to rise up.

"Well, I'm not mad, but that doesn't mean I'm pleased about it either." Belle informed her. "The proper thing would have been for you to wait for your wedding night, just as you sister did. At least, I hope that's what your sister did."

"Did you and Papa wait for your wedding night?"

Belle sighed. She had hoped that neither of her daughters would ever think to ask her that. "No. No we didn't." She admitted.

"Were you sorry you didn't wait?" Beth asked. "Did it ruin your wedding night?"

Belle smiled in fond remembrance. "No it didn't." She said. "Actually I have to admit that it took away the stress of the wedding night, so we were able to really enjoy our first time together as a married couple." Then she turned serious. "But that doesn't mean that this can carry on." She told her daughter. "You took an awful chance but it's done now and there's nothing we can do about that. I just hope you're going to get away with it this one time—but no more! Do you understand?"

"Yes Momma." Beth agreed. "Even Jed has said much the same thing. We have to wait."

"Good!" Belle was relieved, and then she sighed. "I don't like keeping secrets from your father, but in this case I think we will all be better off if he doesn't know. Oh, your father would skin Thaddeus alive! But no more! And I'll say as much to Thaddeus too if needs be!"

Beth smiled, relieved that she hadn't been chastised more severely but in hind sight, she should have known that her mother would understand.

"Thank you Momma."

Then mother and daughter hugged and Belle gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead.

"Now, will you come down and join us for evening tea?"

Beth nodded. "Yes."

A couple of evenings later, Jed was out in the barn getting the horses settled in for the night. It was about half an hour before the gloaming would set in and though there was a bit of a chill in the air, it was still pleasant enough for Belle and Jesse to be sitting out on the front porch with their cups of tea.

Jed was trying to build up the nerve to go and speak with them. Beth was occupied inside, giving her brother a bath and then getting him ready for bed; it was the opportune moment. Now or never. No guts no glory. The early bird gets the worm—no that's not right. That one doesn't really apply. Oh, God he was nervous! If it wasn't for the knot in his stomach he was sure he'd be throwing up. Even the palms of his hands were sweating—this was ridiculous!

Finally he stepped out of the barn and looked over towards the house. There they were, sitting casually on the porch, drinking their tea. He should just go over and say his piece; now or never…his legs wouldn't move. He rubbed his palms on the seat of his pants. They're talking together—were they talking about him? He heard Belle laugh—oh they're laughing about him now, wasn't that just great! Oh brother! It's going to be dark soon, he needs to get over there and get this done!

"There he is now, Jesse." Belle commented, with a smile. "I'm sure this is it."

"What makes you think he's going to ask now, after all this time?" Jesse asked her.

Belle shrugged. "Oh, just put it down to women's intuition."

"Huh hu." Was Jesse's only comment to that. "Well he certainly looks nervous enough. Oh, he seems to have lost the ability to walk straight—he's going in circles now."

"Poor man." Belle commiserated. "We should put him out of his misery."

"I have a gun in the house." Jesse suggested.

Belle laughed. "Don't you dare!" She teased him. "Well, if he doesn't get over here soon under his own steam, I'll call him over. Otherwise Beth will be done with Jay and the opportunity will be lost and we'll have to go through this all over again."

"Heaven forbid!" Jesse exclaimed under his breath. Then…"Oh, here he comes."

"Evenin' folks." Jed greeted them nervously, again rubbing his palms on the seat of his pants.

"Good evening Thaddeus."

"Evening Jed. The horses all settled in?"

"Ahh, yup."

Silence.

"Something on your mind Jed?"

"Ahh, yup. Ahh, Yessir."

Silence.

"Yes?"

"Well, I was hoping that….Ahhmmm… I mean I've know Beth for a long time now and well….I know I'm a lot older than she is and I don't really have much to offer her other than just me…..but I was thinking….."

_'Oh brother._' Jesse thought to himself._ 'This is worse than Steven. Come on Jed, out with it!'_

"Ahhmmm." Jed was stumbling. "Well, I was hoping that you would let me see your daughter."

"You see her all the time Jed." Jesse pointed out. "You hardly need my permission to do that."

Jed stood with his mouth open for a moment, looking at Jesse. Oh, he was making a mess of this and he knew it.

"No, I mean—I would like your permission to court her." Jed finally got out.

"Ohhh! To court her!" Jesse repeated. "Well this is a surprise. We certainly didn't see that coming."

"Jesse!" Belle quietly reprimanded him.

"Oh." Jed mumbled. "Well, I know I don't have much education, I mean not like Steven or David for that matter and I don't really know yet what I'm going to do to provide for her, I mean, I haven't really given that much thought yet what with Heyes still in prison and all. I mean, I'm sure Beth could do much better than an old worn out saddle tramp like me….."

"Are you trying to talk your way into this family or out of it?" Jesse asked him.

"Well…into it. I hope."

Silence.

"Oh for heaven's sakes!" Belle broke under the strain. "Of course you have our permission Thaddeus!" Then she came down the steps to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "And we're pleased to give it!"

Jed went weak in the knees with relief and then he was grinning foolishly and returned Belle's hug.

"Jeez! You had me worried there for a minute!"

"Only a minute?" Asked Jesse as he also approached Jed and then shook his hand and gave him a slap on the back. "I must be loosing my touch." Then he smiled. "Of course you have our permission Jed. We were beginning to wonder what was taking you so long to ask."

"Oh! Well…"

"C'mon! This calls for something stronger than tea." Jesse announced. "Let's go inside and have a drink. It's getting dark out here anyways."

The small group made their way indoors and then Jesse went over to the cabinet and took out the bottle of brandy that was only poured for those 'special occasions' and then took out four shot glasses so that everyone could have a celebratory toast.

"Where's Beth?" The father asked, looking around.

Beth poked her head out from the kitchen. "I'm here." She announced quietly, her whole body anxiously asking the question and awaiting the answer.

"Yes." Jed told her with a huge grin.

"Yes!?" Then she bounced into the room and threw her arms around Jed's neck. "Oh! I'm so happy!"

Jed laughed and returned her hug. "So am I—and relieved! I don't think I was that nervous at my trial!"

Then Beth jumped around to her parents, hugging them and thanking them each in turn.

"Oh Papa! Thank you!...Momma! Thank you! I'm so happy!"

"Good!" Said Jesse as he handed out the glasses. "You're supposed to be." Then he raised his glass in a toast. "To my daughter; Bethany, sweetheart, you've grown into a fine young woman and I couldn't be more proud of you. I know that this is just the first step towards a more serious commitment, but it is a first step that I am very pleased to be able to condone. May it be a joyful journey!"

Everyone raised their glasses.

"Thank you Jesse."

"Thank you Papa."

Glasses tapped and everyone took a drink. Beth grimaced.

Heyes' whole face broke into a smile as Jed sat down at the table opposite him.

"You did it, didn't ya'!" Heyes stated right off the bat.

"Did what?" Jed asked him.

"Don't give me that 'did what'!" Heyes threw back at him. Then he sent a furtive glance back at Pearson and leaned forward with a whisper. "Ya' did Beth, didn't ya'?"

"Jeez Heyes! Do ya' havta put it like that?" Jed sighed. He should have known he wouldn't have been able to hide it from Heyes. His cousin always could read him like one of those dang books he was always delving into. "But yeah, we…got together."

"Yeah! Ha ha!" Heyes was so happy he was almost bouncing out of his chair. "That's great Kid! It's about time! Was it good?"

"Well, yeah." Jed shifted a little uncomfortably. "Course it was good. We….well, you know….we…yeah, of course it was good!"

"Aww, that's great Kid." Heyes was still grinning. "And Beth's happy? You didn't hurt her did ya'? You didn't scare her off?"

Jed sent his cousin an incredulous look. "Of course I didn't scare her off! I was real gentle. What is this? You've never been overly interested in my love life before."

"Yeah, but this is different." Heyes defended himself. "I mean, this is the real thing right? This **is** the real thing, right? You're not just stringing her along?"

"Of course it's the real thing!" Jed threw back at him, all indignant. "What kinda guy do you think I am?"

"Well." Heyes shrugged. "A guy."

Kid sent him 'the look' X 2. "You're a fine one to talk! How many broken hearts have you left in your wake?"

"Well, it's not like I'm getting any in here." Heyes mumbled with a disappointed frown. "The only excitement I can look forward to is getting second hand details from you."

"Yeah, well you're not gonna be getting much of that anymore either." Jed informed him. "Beth and I are officially courtin' now so I won't be visiting the brothels anymore."

"Really?" Heyes asked a little incredulously. "So….You staying celibate now, or are you and Beth gonna….."

"NO! We're not gonna!" Jed insisted. "That one time, well it just happened. I respect Beth so no, we're gonna wait until we get married."

"Ohhh, I see." Heyes sounded skeptical. "You're planning on getting married soon then?"

"Just as soon as we get you outa here Heyes."

Heyes brows went up. "Ahhh, jeez Kid. I mean I really appreciate you wanting to wait for me, but that could be a while yet you know. You really think you can hold out that long?"

"Well, I'm just gonna have to." Jed insisted. "Beth and I discussed it and neither one of us wants to get married until you can be there too. And I promised Jesse that since Beth and I are now officially courting that I would stay away from the brothels. That was the agreement."

Heyes continued to look skeptical. "That's a good deal?"

"Yeah Heyes! It is!" Jed defended himself. "A lot better than the last 'deal' we made! I'm just gonna have to be strong."

"Uh huh." Heyes commented. "You said that before, and look how long that lasted."

"Yeah, well." Jed looked a little abashed. "I'll just have to try harder." Then he grinned. "Look at it this way; it'll give me even more incentive to get you outa here sooner!"

Heyes grinned broadly. "Yeah, there is that!" Then he sat back and scrutinized his partner. "Do Belle and Jesse know about your little 'indiscretion'?"

"Belle does." He admitted. "Jesse doesn't. And we're all gonna try to keep it that way."

"Hmmm, that's wise." Heyes agreed. "Still, how do you feel about that?"

"I don't know." Kid contemplated the question. "I thought I would feel guilty about it, you know; going behind his back like that after everything he's done for us and all. But I don't, but now I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. You know what I mean?"

"Knowing you, yeah, I know what you mean."

"What does that mean?"

"Well…just that you feel obligated to Jesse—we both do." Heyes explained. "And well, fathers are pretty protective of their daughters." Here Heyes allowed a whisper of a sardonic smile to touch his lips. "Even I'm aware of that." He mumbled.

"Yeah." Kid agreed quietly.

"And you know that what you did was going against him." Heyes continued. "So you think you should be feeling guilty about it. One the other hand you and Beth are adults and your intentions are honourable, you're not just using her and then throwing her aside—you're planning on marrying her. So, as adults there's no reason for you to feel guilty. You kinda put yourself into a no win situation there Kid."

"Yeah, I know." Jed agreed. "All the more reason why we can't let it happen again."

"Hmmmm, yeah well. Good luck with that one."

"Yeah."

"So, how's Karma doing?" Heyes asked, sensing that it was time to change the subject. "Is she in foal again?"

Kid brightened up and grinned. "Yeah, we're pretty sure she is and at this point I'm tending to agree with Jesse that she's gonna have a colt this time."

Heyes creased his brow. "Everybody keeps saying that, but I don't get it—how would you know?"

"Well Beth explained it to me and then showed me the breeding records to back it up." Kid said and proceeded to repeat the hypothesis in much the same manner that Beth had.

All the way through this monologue Heyes' expression became more and more skeptical and by the time Curry was finished Heyes was looking at him as though the whole world had gone mad. Even Pearson had given a cynical snort at the conclusion of this discourse and Curry felt himself at a bit of a disadvantage.

"I know it sounds incredible." Curry conceded.

"Uh huh." Heyes agreed, along with a disbelieving nod from Pearson.

"But it's all right there in the breeding records." Curry insisted. "Over the years that Jesse has been breeding horses, this is the pattern that has emerged so I would have to agree that Karma is going to give Jesse a colt this time."

Heyes shrugged. "Okay Kid." He relented. "I guess time will tell."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Then Kid smiled and moved the conversation along. "There's something else that Karma did that totally amazed me—I just didn't think horses would do such a thing."

"Oh yeah?" Heyes face beamed with pride in his mare, even though he had no idea what she had done.

Then as Kid proceeded to inform them of Karma's encounter with the cougar, both inmate and guard listened with amazed intensity, neither one quite believing what they were hearing.

"That's incredible!" Pearson commented. "I've never heard of a horse doing that."

Both ex-outlaws glanced back at the guard and he just shrugged his shoulders in his own defense.

"Well it is!" He insisted.

Heyes looked back at his cousin with a smile. "He's right. That is incredible." Then he sat back and his expression turned reflective. "I mean, I always knew that she was intelligent and loyal, but I never would have thought that a horse would do something like that." Then a hint of sadness drifted across his face. "She and Beth must have a really close bond."

"Yeah Heyes, they do." Curry agreed. "But Beth will be taking over Daisy for her riding horse because, even she knows that Karma is your horse. She doesn't want to move in on that. Belle thinks it's more because Karma has become a mother and is in foal again, so her protective instincts are really high right now. She recognized the cougar as a threat and acted accordingly. Thank goodness she did too, cause I wouldn't have been able to stop it."

"Wow, that's amazing." Heyes reflected quietly. Then he grinned. "I always knew she was a good horse."

"Yeah Heyes, she's a good horse." Curry conceded the point. Then he turned serious again. It was obvious to one who knew him so well that there was something else on his mind but that he was reluctant to bring it up.

"What is it, Kid?"

"What? Oh…well, I was just thinkin'…."

"What?" Geesh, Heyes hated it when the Kid had something to say but was having a hard time getting it out. All it did was add to the suspense.

"Well, I was just thinkin'…."

"Yes." Like a teacher to a shy student.

"Well, I know that we're comin' up on the second year anniversary of you bein' in here, and I was just….."

Heyes smiled ironically. "And you were just wondering how I was handling it."

"Yeah." Kid admitted. "You took it kinda' hard last year, so…."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes agreed and then he kind of shrugged his shoulders and looked away. "I don't really think about it anymore. You know—whatever."

"What do ya' mean 'whatever'?" Kid asked. "I mean, I'm relieved that you're not depressed like you were last year, but now you make it sound like it doesn't matter—like ya' don't care anymore. You're not given' up on us, are ya' Heyes?"

"No! No." Heyes insisted. "I guess I'm just more accepting of things being the way they are now. I look at Lobo and see how he's fighting everything and everybody, every step of the way and looking at it from this end now I can see the futility of it. Then you said that I was just as bad—worse, even when I first got here." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "It's just not worth it. It's like hitting your head against a brick wall."

"Yeah."

Heyes grinned. "Then I look at Kyle and there he is walking around with that same old grin on his face all the time." Then Heyes outright laughed. "I'm thinking that he's got it over all of us. He's just coasting through his sentence Kid, he's gonna make it and he's gonna get outa here and be none the worse for it."

"Yeah, well don't forget that a lot of that is because you're protecting him." Kid pointed out. "If you weren't in here with him I doubt he would be so easy goin' about it all."

"Yeah, good point." Heyes agreed. "I just wish that Lobo would let me do the same for him, but you know Lobo."

"Yeah." Kid agreed emphatically. "How's he doin' with that cough?"

"Better." Heyes nodded. "Doc Morin gave him a tonic to help ease it and I make sure he takes it. But I'm still worried about him. If he gets sick this winter it could easily be the end of him."

"Do you want me to ask Belle to knit him a sweater and stuff?" Kid asked. "I know she wouldn't mind doing it."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "Sister Julia has already brought over some winter things for them, but the more the better I suppose. I don't really need any more clothes." Then he grinned again. "Some of Belle's home baking always goes over well. Ahh, more candles oh and writing paper. What they give me here hardly lasts a week."

"Okay, I'll tell her." Kid assured him. "I should be able to get in here a couple of more times, but here we go again—full steam into winter."

"The winters are hard alright." Heyes agreed. "Not having any visitors is the worst of it, now that I have enough clothes to ward off the cold. But then getting letters from everyone makes up for it a little bit. It's always kinda nice coming back to my cell to find parcels and letters sitting there waiting for me."

"Well, you know the girls will keep on writing." Kid assured him. "David's kinda busy now that he's a family man but he does ask after ya' Heyes and I know he'll write if he can."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes agreed. "I expect Bridget is going to have other things on her mind too now that she's married. Life goes on."

Pearson shifted and gave a little cough. The partners' didn't even bother to acknowledge the signal—they both knew what it meant.

"Okay Heyes." Kid said. "I'll try to get in again next month. Steven might come with me then too, bring you up to date on what's going on."

"Sounds good."

"I'll see ya' Heyes." Kid said as he stood up. "Take care of yourself."

"Yup." Heyes agreed, and then smiled. "And you take care of that young lady of yours."

Curry grinned. "Yeah, I will Heyes. See ya' later."

Winter hit hard and early that year. One day Heyes was standing outside in the yard and smelling the cold freshness coming in on the late autumn breeze that blustered around him and then the next day the prison was covered in a thick blanket of snow that didn't look like it was going anywhere any time soon. Everyone settled into the regular winter routine and prepared to wait out the cold months as best they could with what they had.

As usual, Heyes kept a close eye on his two charges, making sure they stayed warm and were eating and drinking enough to keep healthy. Lobo's cough didn't seem to be getting any worse from the colder temperatures and Heyes was beginning to relax and hope that the wolf was going to make it through his first winter okay. Kyle continued to be Kyle and as long as he had a steady supply of chewing tobacco, he was content enough.

There were still the usual tensions around the work floor area. It just didn't seem to matter who was coming and going or how long they were all in one another's company. There were always those silent little challenges making their way around the assembly and the pecking order was always in flux.

Very few of the lower end inmates bothered Heyes, they all knew where he stood and by the same token, they didn't bother Kyle much either, knowing that he was under Heyes' protection. They all kept a wary eye on Lobo though, just waiting for him to show some sign of weakness, but the ready snarl and hard stare from him was still keeping most of them at bay.

Boeman and Harris and MacKenzie as well, though to a lesser degree were still circling the pack. They were still hoping to get Heyes off by himself at some point, but now that winter had set in and everyone was confined to the indoors, that scenario was becoming less and less likely—there were just too many guards and other inmates around to single anyone out from the pack for any length of time.

Ames had proved himself to be a thinking young man. He figured it out along with everyone else that Kyle was being protected and decided early on to buddy up with that particular inmate. His intentions were not totally narcissistic as he did like Kyle well enough and everyone needs a friend in here, but he was also hopeful that by sticking close to Kyle the reign of Heyes' protection would fall onto him as well. He had no illusions as to his place in the natural scheme of things.

The winds continued to blow outside the prison walls and nobody wanted the work detail of heading outdoors to clear away the front gate or the road leading into the yard. It was just too cold. Then Christmas itself turned out to be a misery.

On the 23rd of December a blizzard hit Colorado and Wyoming and it kept everybody locked down and indoors for close on to a week. Those guards who happened to be on duty when the blizzard hit were not able to go home and shifts were set up so that everyone had enough down time to get through but still leave enough guards on duty to keep things quiet. Even Doc Morin couldn't get home for his customary few drinks at the end of yet another depressing day and that was making him downright sourly.

Then to make matters worse, the Sisters of Charity could not get to the prison on Christmas day so even that small pleasure was deprived the inmates for the time being. There were many assurances being put about that they would still come bearing gifts just as soon as the weather permitted, but it still made the actual day bleak and depressing. Even Dr. Slosson was not able to get in to conduct services and everybody was snarky.

Heyes spent the day in his cell, laying on his cot and all bundled up in numerous layers of warm clothing. He was drinking coffee and trying to read 'A Christmas Carol'—again but on the most part just ended up staring at the same page over and over and thinking about what a crappy Christmas this had turned out to be. He didn't even have any cookies!

On top of that, the guards weren't in the best of moods either. Most of them had families at home celebrating the holiday as best they could, but of course, the guards were all stuck at the prison and couldn't join them. The attitude of the prisoners' was hardly sympathetic. Actually, it was more along the lines of; now you know what it's like to be stuck in this hell hole day after day, night after night! Suck it up!

The next day, down on the work floor everybody was still in foul moods, inmates and guards alike so it didn't take much to light the spark and set off the explosion. The only question after the fact was; had it all been part of an elaborate plan, or was it simply certain individuals taking advantage of an unexpected opportunity?

Heyes was working along side Kyle trying to attach some particularly coarse straw to the handle of a broom when a loud crash from over on the other side of the room caused everyone to jump and look over. Heyes couldn't really see what was going on at first, but he had seen the beginnings of enough fights by now to know the signs of an altercation. Within seconds the dynamics on the work floor had changed and the inmates were beginning to cluster around a section of the floor where the two combatants were obviously getting after it.

The code of silence was quickly broken as the onlookers began rooting for their favorite fighter and the guards were making a concentrated run towards the upheaval, bully clubs out and ready to break up the throng. Yells of encouragement were coming from the onlookers while certain curses and grunts were emanating from the two combatants and the battle seemed to be escalating rather than abating with the arrival of the guards.

Heyes had put his work tools down and was about to head over in the direction of the fight when he felt Kyle grab hold of his sleeve. Heyes looked around to meet those stark blue eyes which on this occasion were expressing a little bit of fear and worry. Kyle shook his head and mouthed the word 'no'. He obviously didn't want Heyes to get involved in the altercation.

Heyes put up his hand in a gesture to indicate that everything was alright. He was the medical assistant, after all and he felt that he should at least be in the vicinity just in case some of his abilities in that field were required. With the bad weather he didn't know if Morin was even at the prison so somebody needed to be on hand. He had no intention of getting too close and certainly none of getting involved, but Kyle still didn't like it.

Heyes moved off, and Kyle stayed where he was, his back up against the work table. He looked around him with an anxious expression, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable and then he brought his eyes around again to watch Heyes' disappearing back. Now Kyle enjoyed a good fist fight as much as the next outlaw—so long as he wasn't in it—but the fights in the prison were violent and brutal, often resulting in a lot of blood letting and that was too much for him. And there was the best friend he had in this place heading right towards it and Kyle couldn't help the knot of dread that was starting to take over his stomach.

Heyes came up behind the wall of inmates, being very careful to keep his distance as everyone was fully focused on the center ring and none were too concerned as to where the surging sea of humanity took them.

The fight was still going on as Heyes could hear the two men shouting at each other, not to mention the crash of splintering wood and of metal utensils clattering to the floor. The guards were still trying to get their way in through the mass in order to break it up, but one of the challenges of a good fight was to keep it going. The only way to keep it going was to keep the guards from getting to it and breaking it up.

All of a sudden Heyes felt a tingle of fear shoot up his spine and then anger tightened his jaw as he heard some of the inmates yelling out encouragement to both of the combatants. 'C'monLobo—let em have it!' and 'Jeez Harris, you're usually faster than that!'

'Oh crap!' Heyes thought. 'Lobo's involved—what a surprise! When is that idiot going to learn that he's not up to a fight?!'

Heyes started trying to actually push his way into the group in order to get to his friend, but wasn't having any more luck than the four guards were. This was getting frustrating and Heyes was getting madder.

Then suddenly there was a loud, collective 'Whoaaaa!' from the group and then everybody had turned on their heels to make a fast get away before any of them could get singled out for punishment. Heyes was fighting just to stay on his feet and not get swept away by the onrush of humanity and continued to push his way in towards the epicenter.

The guards weren't paying too much attention to Heyes and were more concerned with getting the larger group of inmates broken apart and heading back to their work stations before everybody ended up in a lockdown situation. Tempers were high due to the enforced bad weather confinement and more than one inmate received bruises from bully clubs before the situation was settled into normal routine again.

In the meantime, Heyes was ignoring the sounds of battle coming from behind him as he zeroed in on the prone figure of a man laying on the floor by a knocked over work table. Heyes groaned in disappointment as he recognized Lobo, clutching his torso and gasping for air. Heyes ran over to him and was down at his side in an instant.

'Oh no, this isn't good!' Heyes thought as he leaned over his friend. Lobo's hands were covered in blood and he was grabbing at his sweater, trying to pull it away from the wound in his left side.

Heyes grabbed his hands and held on. Lobo was fighting to breath and fighting to talk at the same time.

A very gurgled "Heyes!" made its way passed his lips but then that was followed by a very frightening rush of foamy blood and air bubbles.

Heyes felt real fear clutch at him and he pulled Lobo's sweater and tunic up and away from the gaping wound in the man's side. Harris had slid a knife in between Lobo's ribs, puncturing his left lung and then had pulled the knife out, leaving him there to drown in his own blood.

Bubbles were popping their way out of the wound as air was leaking from the injured lung and Heyes quickly pressed both of his hands over the open gash, trying to seal it off—trying to save his friend from suffocating.

"Just hang on Lobo!" Heyes encouraged him. "They'll have gone for the Doc—he'll be here any minute. You'll be alright."

"No!" Came the harsh, gurgled response.

"No, it's alright Lobo! Just…."

Then Lobo started to fight. He tried to roll away and was pushing Heyes' hands off the gasping wound and the air began to bubble forth again.

"No! Lobo, what are you doing!?" Heyes grabbed his friend and rolled him onto his back again and tried to re-establish his pressure hold over the wound, but Lobo was having none of it!

The wolf showed his teeth in a bloody snarl and lashed out at Heyes, knocking him back and off balance and more precious air surged from the damaged lung.

"No!" It was more like a strangled gurgle than a word. "Let'm die!"

"What?!" Heyes couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No! Come on now! You're talking nonsense! Doc Morin will be here any minute…."

"NO!"

Lobo tried to sit up, pushing Heyes away from him again, fighting with him with what little strength he had left. Suddenly he fell back, gasping and then the harsh coughing hit him and he rolled onto his side and vomited frothy blood. Heyes held onto him, feeling desperate, trying to get him to accept help. Where was Morin? Please let him be at the prison today! Com'on—let him be here!

Then Lobo lay back again, relaxing and just for the briefest of moments Heyes thought that his friend had given up struggling and was going to accept help. But one look into Lobo's glazed over eyes crushed that hope and Heyes' heart sank Then another rush of foaming blood gushed from his mouth and Heyes heard the now too familiar sound of a gurgling death rattle in the throat, and his friend went limp and was quiet.

Heyes was shaking and gasping for air himself. He was in shock. How could Lobo have done that? He'd just…just let go! He hadn't even tried to fight for his life! Just the opposite in fact—he'd fought to die! How could he have done that!

Heyes' bloody hands grabbed on to Lobo's and he held on tight. He fought to keep his emotions down, to not allow the tears to come forth. The last thing Lobo would want would be for Heyes to cry over him! Heyes continued to gasp in lung full's of air and then swallowing down the tightness in his throat, he sat back on his heels and stared down at the dead man as though he just couldn't believe it.

Then Morin was there, squatting down on the other side of the prone man and Heyes raised his sorrow filled eyes up to meet his. Morin reached over and put a hand on Heyes' shoulder and then looked down at the body lying between them.

"Nasty wound." He commented quietly. "And considering he was already weak in that area, it's not surprising that he didn't make it, Heyes."

"It's not that." Heyes murmured, disbelief still mingling with his sorrow. "He fought me Doc. He didn't even want me to help him. He just….."

Morin nodded his understanding. He gave Heyes' shoulder a bit of a squeeze.

"Yup." He said. "Some of 'em do that. Decide they'd just rather be dead than be here. He pretty much indicated that right from the start though, didn't he?"

Heyes dropped his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, he did."

Morin patted Heyes' shoulder a couple of times and sending his assistant a reassuring smile, started to stand up.

Then from across the work floor, back where Heyes' station had been there came the clatter and yelling of another fight breaking out. Heyes couldn't believe it! What was with these people today? Heyes showed no inclination of getting up to go investigate this time, figuring that since Morin was already here then he could deal with any medical issues that might arise.

But that decision got turned around on him very quickly when he heard Kyle's voice raised in a yell and then the crash of a table being pushed over. The inmates began their whooping again and another fight was definitely on!

Heyes sighed, but stood up and turned to go investigate when he felt Morin grab his shirt sleeve.

"No, Heyes. Stay outa this one." The doctor suggested. "This is too much of a coincidence. You're being set up. Stay out of it!"

Heyes shrugged. "It's one of my men." He stated bluntly, as though that should have been obvious and then turned again and headed over towards the sounds of the altercation.

Heyes started the journey over to the other side of the floor at a reluctant walk, but as fear rose up in him that Kyle was going to end up the same way as Lobo, the walk became a run and the run became a charge! He hit the back wall of men and started to force his way through using elbows and knees to jab and punch anybody who didn't move aside fast enough.

A quick scan of the assembly before him showed Murrey, Davis and Thompson doing their best to get this second insurrection shut down, but with Pearson and Reece busy dealing with some of the more unruly rebels from the first fight, they were having a hard time of it and not making much headway. Heyes pushed through and found himself front row center of the second fight and his anger rose up another notch at the audacity of the assault. MacKenzie was standing behind Kyle and was holding the smaller man in an arm lock rendering him practically harmless while Harris came at him with a broken table leg.

Heyes had to hand it to Kyle though, because despite being ganged up on he was holding his own. Smaller than Heyes and of a gentler nature, he was still wiry and tough and could move pretty fast when he had to. Despite Mac trying to hold him still, Kyle still found a way to twist and turn and duck every time Harris took a swing at him. The blood running from his nose indicated that he hadn't been successful every time but it would seem that poor Mac was the recipient of the blows more often than not and he was starting to get pissed.

Yelling out his indignant anger Heyes ducked his head and made his charge, aiming for MacKenzie. He hit him with a full body check from the side, sending himself, Mac and Kyle all sprawling to the floor in amongst a tangle of arms and legs and prolific curses. Harris was getting mad now and he came at the prone group, and swinging the table leg like a sledge hammer he came after Heyes with malicious intent.

If it hadn't been such a violent attack it would have been funny. Kyle had quickly rolled under a work table to get out of the way while Heyes was on his back watching Harris and keeping his eyes on that club of wood. He twisted and turned and rolled back and forth, using his legs to knock over chairs or move tables—anything to keep out of striking range of that table leg. Harris was roaring with frustrated anger, looking very much like a man attempting to club to death a rat that was refusing to stay still!

The three guards on the floor were still trying their best to get through the jeering jostling crowd but they really were fighting against the tide. Carson was on the run from the warden's office where he had been discussing scheduling when he'd gotten word of trouble down on the work floor. Pearson and Reece had deposited their trouble makers into their cells and were also on the run back towards the scene of the crime while Morin was simply doing his best to stay out of the way, confident that his services would come in handy later.

Meanwhile Mac had scrambled to his feet and was doing his best to stay out of swinging range of Harris as well when quite unexpectedly a hand nipped out from under a table and Mac had his leg snatched right out from under him. Mac went down hard; taking a table and a whole box full of working utensils with him and then Kyle was out from his hiding place and sitting on Mac's chest started punching him for all he was worth.

Unfortunately Mac was a much larger, heavier man than Kyle and though the Devil's Hole member got in a number of very effective blows it wasn't long before Mac got fed up with it, and twisting his torso over was able to dislodge the smaller man and send him skidding. Then Mac was up and grabbing Kyle by the front of his tunic hauled him to his feet and began punching him the face. Kyle started yelling and brought his arms up over his head to ward off the blows, but aside from that there wasn't much else he could do to escape the assault.

Heyes was seeing red, and hearing Kyle yell set his blood to boiling. He knocked over yet another chair to block Harris' attack and then was on his feet and charging before the other man had a chance to recover. Heyes hit him full on with a shoulder block and both men were sent sprawling into the sidelines, taking four or five members of the spectators down with them. Everybody scrambled out of their way and the two adversaries were on their feet again, but Harris had decided that he'd had enough. He'd been up against Heyes before and now that the odds were no longer in his favour he dropped the wooden table leg and turning tail, pushed his way through the crowd and out of the fight.

Heyes grabbed the discarded club and made a run for MacKenzie and swinging the weapon low he rammed it full force into the back of that inmate's knees, collapsing his legs out from under him. Mac gasped with pain and surprise, and letting go of Kyle he buckled and started to go down just as Heyes again swung the club and cold cocked him behind the ear, concussing him into the floor and out of the fight.

Heyes looked up to meet Kyle's eyes just in time to see those blue orbs suddenly widen with surprise and then Heyes felt someone grabbing his tunic from behind. Thinking it was Harris coming back for more—or maybe even the oddly absent Boeman—Heyes swung around and brought the club down onto the top of the shoulder of Thompson! There was a loud crack as Thompson's collar bone snapped and the guard went down to his knees with a shocked yell of pain.

There was an instant heartbeat of silence as every inmate in the place stopped what they were doing. Then as if in a collective agreement every one of them turned tail and headed at full speed back to their cells, the memory of their last all out riot still too fresh in their minds for any of them to be wanting a repeat.

Heyes stepped back in surprise and dropped the wooden table leg to the floor with a loud clattered. He knew he was in trouble now even before the first bully club landed its blow and then the guards were onto him whacking and batting him as he went down and he curled himself into a ball, bringing his arms over his head, trying to protect himself. But the blows and kicks kept coming until he thought his world was going to explode.

He could hear Kyle yelling, and to that man's credit he was doing his best to get between Heyes and guards, trying to shield him from the blows. He hated the fact that his 'boss' was being beaten simply for trying to protect him. Then fortunately, for the time being, Carson, Reece and Pearson arrived on the scene and quickly restored order to the chaos.

"Murrey! Davis! Back off of 'em!" Carson yelled. "God dammit! Pearson! Get that other one over to the infirmary—and take Thompson with you!"

"Yessir." Pearson responded, and stepping around the detritus of the fight, he grabbed the still unconscious MacKenzie by the arm and hoisting him up started to drag him in the direction of the medical ward.

Thompson was standing and holding his useless left arm, but he was swaying and looked as though he might just pass out at any moment. Fortunately Morin was still in the vicinity so he came over to lend the guard a hand. Turning he glanced down at Heyes and then looked to Kenny. That guard simply shook his head and rolled his eyes—he wasn't in charge here, it wasn't up to him what happened next.

Carson was till swearing. "Jesus Christ! Can't I even go for a meeting with the damn Warden without all hell breaking loose down here!? And what a surprise! Here's Heyes right in the middle of it!"

Carson stepped forward and glared down at the prone man who was still rolled in a ball and not moving. Kyle was sitting on the floor between Heyes and the guards, a protective arm thrown back over his friend's shoulder. He was scared to death, looking up at all these men who were armed and bigger than him but was still reluctant to surrender his friend into their mercy.

"Davis!"

"Yessir."

"Get this one over to the infirmary as well. I'll decide on their punishments later." Carson ordered with a gesture towards Kyle. "You tell Pearson to stay over there to guard them and then you get back here pronto—understand?"

"Yessir."

Davis got hold of Kyle's arm and started to haul him to his feet.

"No!" Kyle protested. "No, I wanna…."

"ARE YOU ACTUALLY TALKING BACK TO A GUARD, CONVICT!?" Carson yelled at him.

Kyle cringed and shutting his mouth, instantly looked away. There was nothing else for it; even he knew that, so with one final disparaging look back down at his friend he allowed himself to be led away.

Carson then nudged his boot under Heyes' torso and rolled him over onto his back. Heyes groaned and opened his eyes; just about every inch of him was hurting. Fortunately though, he was bruised but not bloody, battered but not broken. He lay there doing his best just to find a way to breath that didn't hurt.

Squatting down beside him, Carson grabbed Heyes by the front of his tunic and pulled him up into a sitting position. Heyes gasped and then tried his best to support himself there and not look the senior guard in the eye.

"I swear Heyes; you must be startin' to like me." Carson said to him. "Cause you just gave me exactly what I wanted for Christmas." He smiled and gave the inmate a couple of slaps across the face just to make sure he was listening. Heyes jumped and his eyes opened wider. "I told you what I would do to you if you ever assaulted one of my guards again—and what do you do? You go and assault the same guard! Yep, you must really be startin' to like me."

Heyes groaned while Carson stood up and looked over to Reece and Murrey.

"Wait here with him until Davis gets back." He ordered. "Then get Heyes over to the hoist. I'll meet you there."

"Yessir."

Carson turned on his heel and walked away. Kenny closed his eyes, letting out a dejected sigh. This was not going to be pleasant. He shook his head and then looked over to the inmate who was still sitting on the floor and trying not to fall over.

"Aww Heyes, why'd ya' do it?" Kenny asked him. "You assault a guard practically under Carson's nose and there's not a damn thing I can do to help you. What the hell were you thinkin'?"

"He's one of my men." Heyes mumbled quietly.

"Who? Murtry?" Kenny confirmed. "I know that Heyes, but both him and Lobo being assaulted at the same time? You must have realized it was a setup, and yet you just walked right into it."

"He's one of my men."

Kenny stood silently for a moment and then sadly nodded in understanding. Then he looked over to Murrey and to Davis, who had just returned and sent them a simple gesture to carry on with their duty. The two guards each grabbed one of Heyes' arms and hauling him to his feet, dragged him off to receive his punishment.

Not too many minutes later Heyes found himself in a room that he'd never been in before and it didn't take him long to know that he didn't like it much. It wasn't a big room, quite small actually and as usual, there were no windows—and no heat. The floor and walls were of cold concrete and there was a wooden beam stretched across the length of the room about a foot down from the ceiling. On that beam there was attached a pulley system with a rope running through it with one end running straight down to the floor and the other end angling across to slide through a ring attached to the far wall. The only furniture in the room was a bench and a bucket with water in it.

Heyes started to feel a dread clutch in the pit of his stomach. He was beginning to think that even the dark cell might be preferable over what was going to happen in here. His teeth started to chatter but whether it was from fear or the cold in this dank ominous room he didn't know and didn't wish to scrutinize.

Davis went over to the bench and picked up a leather strip then he returned to the inmate and pulling Heyes' arms behind his back, snuggly tied his hands together. And there they stood, waiting with Davis standing beside Heyes and holding onto his left arm while Murrey stood in front so that Heyes had no choice but to just stand still, his eyes looking down. The knot in his stomach was getting worse.

Then he heard voices coming towards them; it was Carson and Reece. Reece was speaking quietly, trying to sound reasonable, but he didn't appear to be having too much impact.

"Heyes didn't intend to assault Thompson, you know that." Kenny was saying. "It was a set up to get Heyes into trouble."

"Well, it worked." Carson agreed. "Cause he sure as hell is in trouble."

"You're letting Boeman play you." Kenny continued. "He's the bastard who should be in here for punishment."

"Boeman wasn't anywhere near either of those fights."

"Yeah, what a surprise." Was Kenny's sardonic response. "You know damn well that anything Harris does is because Boeman told him to do it. Harris doesn't have enough brain cells to think up any of this stuff. He's a lackey and you know it as well as I do."

"Yeah, I know it." Carson responded as the two men entered the room. "But if Heyes hadn't been involved in the fight and holding a weapon then he wouldn't have hit Thompson—end of discussion."

"Heyes was only protecting one of his men." Kenny didn't agree that the discussion was ended. "Murtry was getting ganged up on."

"The guards were on their way to break it up!" Carson pointed out. "The worst Murtry would have got would have been a busted nose or some cracked ribs."

"Or dead." Reece pointed out.

"Lobinskie was already on death's door!" Carson was starting to get angry. "Hardly a surprise—nobody expected him to last the winter anyways!"

"All I'm saying is…."

But Carson suddenly turned on his subordinate finally having had enough of this conversation.

"I told Heyes what I would do to him if he assaulted one of my guards again—and now he has!" Carson pointed out. "How much respect would I warrant if I didn't do what I said I'd do?" Reece was getting ready to answer that when Carson cut him off. "NO! Don't bother! You're a bleeding heart Reece! If you want respect from these convicts ya gotta let them know who's in charge! You can't expect these outlaws to change who they are! I knew it would just be a matter of time before Heyes pulled something like this again because that's who he is—it's his nature! The only way to get men like him to submit is to crush them and sooner or later he will submit because I'm not going to give him a choice! That's it! End of discussion!"

Heyes took an involuntary step back as Carson barreled down on him, but all he did was back into Davis and then Carson had him by the arm and was hauling him backwards to the dangling rope.

"You two." Carson ordered his guards. "Get over there—get ready to haul."

Heyes had to admit that he was really getting scared now. He didn't know what was coming but he knew he wouldn't like it, not with the way Carson was so eagerly looking forward to it. Heyes looked over to Kenny while he felt Carson tie the loose end of the rope to his bound hands and Kenny met his eyes with a tight jaw and a slow burn rising.

But Kenny was just as helpless as Heyes was in trying to stop this—there was nothing he could do about it. But that didn't mean there wasn't something he could do to prevent it from happening again, and Kenny was just about mad enough now to be willing to take the chance.

"Alright." Carson ordered. "Start hauling."

Davis and Murrey both had a hold on the other end of the rope and they started to pull down on it so that Heyes' hands started to be pulled up towards the beam. His breath was coming in gasps now as realization of what they were going to do to him really and truly came home. He locked onto Kenny hoping that having him to focus on would help him to block out the pain—but it didn't work.

Heyes felt his arms being pulled up behind him and then they reached the limit that they could comfortably go, but Murrey and Davis continued to pull. Heyes' shoulders took the strain and he began to lean forward as he was slowly being hoisted up off his feet. Every muscle in his body had tightened up and he closed his eyes and his mouth opened as he felt the strangling fear start in his lungs, force its way up his throat and then burst out in a yell of agony. His shoulders were on fire!

"NO!" He was practically crying. "STOP! You're gonna rip my arms out!"

Carson sneered and grabbing Heyes' chin shook it until the inmate, his breath coming in short ragged gasps forced his eyes open and looked into the guard's sadistic face.

"No we're not Heyes." Carson jeered at him. "We're just gonna make it feel like we are—for the next five hours."

"No…."

Reece felt sick. He hadn't been able to stop this from happening, but that didn't mean he had to stand there and watch it. He turned on his heel and walked out, still hearing Heyes gasping in pain until he turned a corner and re-entered the prison proper.

Pearson spotted him and came over to ask him something, but one look at his boss's expression caused him to stop in his tracks and head off in another direction. Reece was beyond fuming; his jaw was tight and his gray eyes had turned to hard steel. This was the final straw, he'd had enough and if he knew his wife as well as he hoped he did, then she would not only understand the actions he was about to take, but be right in there cheering him on.

Heyes started to hear a buzzing in his head as the room began to spin and then to fade out into a black velvet backdrop with amazing colours shooting and swirling across his field of vision. All he could hear was that buzzing in his ears becoming louder and louder as the searing pain in his shoulders began to diminish. Then he felt the strangest of sensations starting in the pit of his stomach and making its way up towards his head like a huge wave of nothingness.

He felt an overwhelming sense of relief because he knew that he was just on the verge of passing out—yes! Sweet blackness! Take him away where he wouldn't feel the pain anymore, where he wouldn't feel anything anymore. Then Tchaikovsky's violin concerto started dancing across the universe of his mind and the swirling colours were waltzing in sync with the melody; ebbing and flowing, bursting bright and then fading. Then continuing to fade as the music and the colours were mixing in together and then spiraling away from him, both being sucked into the nothing that became total blessed blackness.

Then Heyes was coughing, sputtering, fighting to breath and the searing pain stabbed at his brain again and he was floating inside a gray well of concrete and he was cold and in agony and he just wanted to die. He was spitting water out of his mouth and it was dripping down his chin as he forced his eyes open to see Davis standing in front of him, holding a tin cup that he'd just used to splash water into the inmate's face.

"Wake up Heyes!" He ordered. "How are you supposed to benefit from the punishment if you keep passing out?"

Then Davis turned and plunking the cup back into the bucket, he sat down on the bench and returned to his watch duty.

Heyes groaned. He lost count as to how many times he passed out and how many times Davis hit him with the water. He tried to hold on to his music but reality pushed through and turned the music into pain. He tried to focus on his new words to decipher but they all ended up translating into pain. He tried to think of Karma and their wild, joyous gallops but all the wind brought to him was pain. Pain filled his world, his universe, his reality. Pain was all he had; it was all he could ever remember having and it was all that he could foresee in his future.

He passed out again for the umpteenth time and again was being forced back into wakefulness. But it wasn't with water this time, somebody was jostling him. His head was draped over a shoulder and somebody was holding him and lifting him up, taking the strain off his shoulders. Heyes' whole awareness was filled with Kenny's scent and then relief washed over him as Kenny's soothing tone drifted through his consciousness and put his mind at ease.

"Take it easy Heyes—I've got ya'."

Four hours into the punishment, the weather had finally cleared enough for Carson to decide it was time to head for home. He'd been stuck at the prison for nearly three days and felt the need for a beer and a decent meal before grabbing some sack time in his own bed for a change. Reece had been there just as long, but he had something else to attend to before heading home to his own wife and children and as soon as he was sure that Carson was well and truly gone, he headed back over to the 'dungeon'.

Collecting Pearson along the way, the two men entered the room and didn't hesitate in going about their business. Reece went straight over to Heyes and getting himself underneath the convict, he brought his shoulder up so that Heyes' head draped over it and then wrapping his arms around the inmate's waist, lifted the man up to bring slack into the rope. Heyes groaned and shifted slightly.

"Take it easy Heyes—I've got ya'." Kenny assured him and then looked over to Pearson who was standing by the ring embedded in the wall. "Okay Pearson, untie him and then get over here and help me lower him down."

Meanwhile Davis had stood up and was looking a little concerned.

"Ahh, Mr. Carson said to give him five hours." He commented, a little nervously. "It's only been four."

"Mr. Carson has gone home for the day and that makes me senior guard." Kenny pointed out. "I say he's had enough. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Ohm! No sir Mr. Reece."

"Good! You're relieved of duty for the day Mr. Davis. Go home."

"Oh! Yes sir! Thank you sir." And Davis made a bee line for the exit before his superior could have a chance to change his mind.

Pearson had untied and freed the rope from the ring and then returned to the two men. He placed his hands on Heyes' back in order to steady him and Reece slowly bent his knees, taking all three of them carefully down to the floor. They managed to get Heyes laid out flat on his stomach without jarring him too much and then took a look at his hands.

His wrists were raw and bleeding from the leather bindings digging in and tearing the skin—and they were tight. Kenny tried to untie the knots, but the leather was wet with blood and not giving in to the tugging. Kenny sighed, his jaw tightening in anger again at this brutality.

"You have your knife with you?" He asked Pearson.

"Yeah." And Pearson reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small flat blade that he kept hidden in a sheath under his right arm.

Pearson wasn't really supposed to carry a knife inside the prison proper in case an inmate overpowered him and got hold of it, but it had come in handy on more than one occasion, and Kenny decided to ignore the rules in this case. And right now, he was glad that he did.

Pearson carefully slid the knife between the binding and Heyes' skin, but it was a tight fit and the skin was swollen so it was not an easy task. Kenny used his fingers to try and push the skin down so that Pearson could get the point through without cutting into the flesh. It took some persistence and a couple of close nicks, but they finally managed it and Pearson started to saw away at the leather.

This part of it didn't take long and Heyes groaned in pain as his hands came free and dropped to the floor by his side. He tried to move, tried to get himself rolled over so he could sit up but any attempt to move his arms only resulted in shooting, nauseating pain assaulting his senses.

Kenny put a hand on his shoulder. "No Heyes stay still." He told him. "The muscles and tendons in your shoulders are going to be badly damaged so don't even try to move."

"Yeah." Came the barely audible response and Heyes sighed and just let himself lay there and try to breathe without groaning too much.

"Go over to the infirmary and get the stretcher." Reece ordered his guard. "There's no way we can walk him over there without pulling on his arms so we'll have to carry him."

"Yeah, okay." Pearson was on his feet and gone before he had even finished confirming the order.

Kenny sat back in a more comfortable position, keeping his hand on Heyes' shoulder. He sighed again and a subtle ironic smile flitted across his lips as he shook his head.

"I donno Heyes." He commented. "We seem to find ourselves in this position a little bit too often."

Heyes heard Kenny's words and silently agreed with them but try as he might a verbal response refused to come forth. He lay still on the cold floor and prayed for release.

Half an hour later, Heyes was stretched out on his back on a bed over in the infirmary. Kyle was hovering. He had been over earlier to get treated for his minor injuries from the fight but had pestered and cajoled the Doc so much over the welfare of his friend that Morin had allowed him to hang around until Heyes had been released from his punishment. Now he had even less intention of leaving and Doc and Kenny both agreed that he could stay and sit with his friend for now if that's what he wanted to do.

"How are MacKenzie and Thompson doing?" Kenny asked Morin while he was mixing up a batch of morphine for his new patient.

"They'll survive." Morin grumbled. "Thompson can go home soon if someone can drive him and then he'll get six weeks off while that bone heals. MacKenzie can go back to his cell tomorrow. I just want to keep an eye on him over night with that concussion and all."

"Yeah, alright." Kenny nodded. "What about Heyes?"

Morin sighed and looked over to the newest patient. "Jeez that Carson's a fxxxing axxhole. Have I said that before?"

Kenny smiled. "Yeah Doc, ya' have."

"Well, it bears repeating!" Morin snarked. "Anyway, we'll just have to wait and see. I'll clean up his wrists, but it's going to take a while for his muscles to heal up. I'm sure they've been pulled out of line pretty badly. He can probably go back to his cell in a couple of days, but he won't be doing any work for at least a month."

"Oh no." Kenny groaned. "He's gonna be driving everybody crazy."

"Oh yeah." Morin agreed. "He won't be able to do much writing either, but he'll be able to read so, maybe Dr. Slosson can come up with something to keep him occupied for a while."

"I sure hope so." Kenny was emphatic. "Heyes with nothing to do is like a bear coming out of hibernation. Maybe we can pawn him off on the orphanage for a while."

"There's a thought."

"Hmmm. Well Doc, I'm gonna head for home. I'll see ya tomorrow."

"I'll be here." Came the fatalistic response.

The two men went their separate ways and Morin went over to Heyes to give him the drug.

"How are you doing Heyes?" The doctor asked him just to get his attention.

Heyes smiled weakly as he gasped painfully for air and looked at him through slitted eyes. "Kyle's been singin' me lullabies." Came out in a strained whisper.

Morin's eyebrows went up and he glanced over at the other inmate. Kyle looked down at the floor, feeling embarrassed.

"Just some ole' songs we'd git ta' singin' in the bunkhouse." He mumbled in his own defense. "Ain't what I'd call 'lullabies."

"That's fine." Morin told him. "Keep 'em coming."

Kyle grinned.

"Here, help me to get him sitting up." Morin said. "But don't touch his arms! Get a hand under his shoulder, like this and then we'll push him up together."

"Yeah, okay Doc."

Once Heyes was sitting up Morin sat on the bed and supported him there with his shoulder and then put the cup up to his mouth.

"Okay Heyes, you know the drill."

"Is it morphine?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, good."

Once Heyes had the medications down his throat, Morin went back to his supply cabinet and took out disinfectant, padding, gauze, tape and scissors. Everything he knew he'd need to get those wrists cleaned up. Then he returned to his patient, and with the help of his new assistant, got the job done.

Kenny Reece, all bundled up in his coat, hat and scarf—not to mention gloves had retrieved his horse from the stable and was making his way towards town for some well deserved time off. It was a clear night, the stars bright and sharp in the cold dark sky, but it wasn't as late in the evening as Kenny would have thought. One of the things about working three or four days straight without a break is that you tended to lose track of time.

Quite a few people were still out and about that evening, taking advantage of the break in the weather to do some socializing or just get out for some fresh air. He nodded greetings to more than one acquaintance as he trotted his horse down the snow packed roadway, heading in towards the main street of town. He got into a bit of a battle of wills with his animal as they passed by the street leading to their home and he could understand the horse wanting to get back to his own stall and a good feeding, but Kenny had an errand to run before going home and it wasn't one he felt that could wait.

He carried on down the road, passed the saloon, passed the mercantile, passed the sheriff's office and passed the café, and then turned in to the hitching rail in front of the telegraph office. Much to Kenny's relief the light was still burning inside, so he dismounted and carried on in to the warm interior in order to take care of business.

George looked up from behind his counter and his coffee and smiled.

"Hey there Kenny." He greeted the local man. "How's life behind bars?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Oh brother. I don't even want to go into it."

George smiled. "Okay. What can I do for ya'? There's nothing here for ya'."

"No, I know." Kenny answered. "Actually I want to send two telegrams, both with the same message."

"Okay." George got his paper and pencil ready. "Where are they going?"

"One is going to Mr. Steven Granger, Lawyer. Denver, Colorado. And the other one to Mr. Jed Curry. Brookswood, Colorado. Both just to say 'Count me in.' and then, you know; K Reece."

"That's it?" George sounded a little disappointed.

"Yup. They'll both know what it's about."

"Okay Kenny. I'll get that sent off right away."

"Thanks. Good night."

"'Night."

Then Kenny exited the office, re-mounted his horse and much to that animal's relief, pointed his head towards home.

To Be Continued.

Authors note; the incident involving the cougar is based on an actual occurrence which took place a few years ago in Montana. The only real difference being that the equine involved was a saddle mule and not a horse and mules do tend to have the reputation of being not only smarter than horses but also more loyal and protective of their people. But we all know that Karma is special!


	28. Chapter 28

The Hearing

It was January, 1888. Heyes was in his cell, sitting on his cot playing solitaire, eating cookies and drinking coffee. It was evening. The weather had finally cleared off enough that life had become mobile again and most of the inmates and guards were in better spirits now that the Christmas festivities had finally taken place and everyone had received timely gifts. Note it was said that most of the inmates were in better spirits; Heyes was not. He was hurting inside and out—again. He was in constant pain, his chest and shoulders aching and complaining with the slightest of movements. Even reaching for his coffee cup or flipping over a card might cause him to suck his teeth and silently curse his situation. He was even finding it hard to breath. Doc Morin had given him some salve to rub into his muscles at night so at least he was able to get some sleep but he would still wake up throughout the night feeling as though he were suffocating. Were his muscles ever going to recover from that ordeal? Morin said yes, given time. Everything seemed to take time!  
Movement by his cell door caught his eye and he glanced over to see that old black and white tom cat staring at him. Heyes returned the stare. The feline flattened its ears and hissed. Heyes symbolically flattened his ears and hissed back. Startled, the cat jumped and then took off down the corridor to tend to other matters. Heyes had made a habit of closing his cell door whenever he wasn't in it for fear of returning to find cat urine on his blankets. Yeah; one more enemy to add to his list.  
Ten minutes later more movement caught his eye and he glanced up to meet Boeman's icy stare being directed at him. This time Heyes' hackles really rose and the two inmates glared at each other for what seemed an eternity. Then Boeman's lip curled in what apparently was supposed to be a smile and he turned and walked off down the aisle towards his own cell. Heyes was left sitting on his cot sending a stream of silent curses after the man. There was a reckoning coming with that one but Heyes was in no condition for a retaliatory attack yet and he knew it. It was going to have to wait. Half an hour after that Heyes noticed movement again and he sighed with irritation. Couldn't these people just leave him alone? He looked up, sending daggers to the intruder and then instantly regretted his mood and softened the points.  
Kyle stood in the doorway holding two cups of hot coffee and wearing a hopeful smile. Heyes smiled back and nodded. Kyle grinned and came into the cell and sitting down on the cot he offered Heyes one of the cups. Heyes slowly lifted his hand to accept it and his whole countenance tightened with the pain that the movement caused. Kyle's smile dropped and he looked concerned but Heyes tried to make light of it and he accepted the cup. Then he picked up the tin of cookies that Belle had sent him and offered them to his friend. Kyle's face lit up like a child given a puppy and he helped himself to a couple of them to have with his own coffee.  
Heyes placed the tin back onto the cot between both of them, indicating that Kyle could help himself whenever he wanted and then they settled in to playing double solitaire. The two friends spent the rest of the evening in this pass time and were quite content to do so. Twenty minutes before evening lock down Murray came by the cell and let it be known that it was time to break it up.  
Kyle grabbed one more cookie, sent Heyes a cheeky grin and then headed out the door and down the aisle towards his own cell. Heyes carried on with his solitary game until the buzzer sounded for all the inmates to show themselves at the door of their cells for the night time roll call. Oh damn, Carson was there, systematically working his way down the row of cells, checking off names as he went. Heyes tried very hard to disappear into thin air, but he knew he wasn't having much luck. As a second option he just made sure he kept his eyes lowered and did nothing to antagonize the guard. He hated to admit that he felt fear towards this man, there weren't too many men whom Hannibal Heyes was afraid of, but Carson had certainly become one of them.  
"How ya' feeling tonight Heyes?" Carson just had to ask.

"Fine sir." Came the quiet response.

"Uh huh." Carson just smiled, ticked Heyes' name off the list and carried on down the aisle.

Heyes sighed with relief and stepped back into his cell. Ten minutes later the buzzer sounded again, the cell doors all clanged shut and the locks clunked into place. Heyes lay on his cot, staring up into space and feeling very down in the dumps indeed. He started to raise his right arm to place under his head but then quickly thought better of it as the pain shot through his chest and he had to fight to get in a breath of air.  
When was this hell he was living in going to be over? 'Never' was the answer that came back to him. Dammit! Even when he tried to do the right thing it ended up being the wrong thing. Maybe he should just give up trying altogether; maybe then these people would just leave him alone.  
Maybe Lobo had the right idea. Oh, but Heyes wasn't ready to go there yet—not yet. There was still the hearing to get through and who knows, maybe something good will come from that. Yeah, maybe, who knows? 'Don't give up Hannibal' he found himself saying. 'Don't give up-not yet.'

When Jed had first received Kenny's telegram, he'd been pleased that the guard had changed his mind about coming forward in person to the hearing. Then after considering it for a few moments, he began to wonder what had happened to bring about the change of heart. Once that thought had occurred to him it just wouldn't let him go and the first chance he got he was back in town, sending a telegram.

'What happened?'

And the simple response;

'He's fine. Discuss later. Lobinskie's dead. Sorry. Knife fight.'

Now that got him really nervous. Oh no! What happened? Lobo probably got himself into a fight and knowing Heyes he got himself into trouble trying to help. Jed really was beginning to hate winters because the snow and cold temperatures kept him isolated from his cousin, and all it took was a telegram like this one to get him all antsy and frustrated at this forced inactivity.  
Geez it was cold! Jed rubbed his hands together as he made his way over to where his gelding was tired up and waiting for him. He'd decided to call him 'Gov.' Short for governor, of course, thinking that maybe giving the young horse that name might actually bring them some luck. Who knows?  
Jed looked up just in time to see Isabelle heading his way, but as soon as she saw him her nose went up in the air and she instantly turned on her heels and headed off in the opposite direction. Jed smiled to himself. Oh well, you can't please everyone. Word had gotten around quite quickly that Jed and Beth were now courting and on the most part the news had been greeted with playful teasing. Most of the comments having to do with how long it had taken Jed to actually get around to making it official.  
Jed just shrugged his shoulders at Isabelle's ignoble attitude and mounting his horse, he headed back out to the Double J to help Sam with the evening chores. Then after supper he was going to retire to his room and sit down to write a letter to his cousin and find out from him just what it was he thought he was playing at!

Heyes;

What the hell are you playing at!? You know who has had a change of heart about you know what and now Kenny says that Lobo got killed in a knife fight! Why is it that I find it hard to believe that you were not involved in all this in some way? What happened? And are you alright?

Jed

Heyes was sitting on his cot that Saturday evening and gave a snort of amusement upon reading the letter from his cousin. Heyes actually had a number of letters scattered about his cot from a number of different people, some wishing him a belated Merry Christmas and others just keeping in touch. There were even some from the orphans that were full of kind words and humorous stories about their Christmas celebration. They were also quite adamant that Mr. Heyes come to visit again as soon as the weather permits and by all means bring Mr. Curry along too! Heyes had to admit that hearing from those youngsters did tend to lift his spirits to some degree, but on the most part his mood was melancholy and had been since the ordeal with Lobo. He just couldn't seem to shake it this time, that feeling of hopelessness. That feeling that nothing was going to improve, nothing was going to change. That he was never going to get out of here!  
Still, as mentioned before; Curry's letter, so abrupt and to the point could not help but bring a smile to his face and he settled in right then and there to respond to it. He did not however plan on going into any great detail, especially regarding the punishment as he knew that would only serve to frustrate and worry his cousin even more. So he kept things ambiguous and hoped that it would suffice until spring.

Jed;

I am sorry to say that we did lose Lobo here around Christmas time. He got in to a fight with one of the other inmates and he got stabbed with one of the work knives. I tried to help him, but Lobo being true to form would not let me and he chose to die instead. I still can't decide if that was an act of great bravery or great cowardice. I suppose all I can say is that right from the start he made it clear that he'd rather be dead than be in here and when the opportunity presented itself, he simply took it. So maybe it wasn't brave or cowardly, it just was.  
Kyle got himself into an altercation as well on that same day and both the Doc and Kenny are of the opinion that it was a set up to get me into trouble, it being of general knowledge that I had taken both Lobo and Kyle under my protection. And of course, it worked because I did go to assist Kyle and ended up getting into trouble.  
All us inmates who were involved with the fight were sent for the usual punishments but all is fine now. I'm okay and so is Kyle so there really isn't anything for you to worry about, 'cause let's face it you've got enough to worry about with that hearing coming up so go give 'em hell, okay!  
Looking forward to seeing you in the spring and hopefully there will be some good news. Have you named that damn horse of yours yet?

H. Heyes

Heyes sat back then and re-read the letter and was satisfied that it would do. Just enough of what was normal chaos around this place so as not to set off any alarm bells but still letting him know that some things had indeed happened.  
He set that letter aside and picked up another one that was awaiting his attention and saw that it was from Belle. He smiled. If anyone could lift his spirits it was her and since he knew how busy she was at home, any letters from her were all that much more appreciated.

_Dear Joshua;_

_I think we all got hit pretty hard with that winter storm that came through just in time for Christmas. I hope the bad weather did not totally ruin what small enjoyments you get from that season as I'm sure that you all look forward to them a great deal._  
_The holidays here were of course affected by the storm and Christmas Day was very quiet. No one was going anywhere so of course we did not see Steven and Bridget nor even David and Tricia as everyone was just dug in and waited it out._  
_We did make the best of it though and dinner was pleasant enough with just the five of us here. Jay is just getting so big! He's running everywhere now and talking a blue streak and he is just so fond of Thaddeus. They have plans this spring to go for a ride up to the north range to look at the calves etc. and of course Jay is determined that he is going to ride Buck all by himself and be a cowboy just like all the other hired hands!_  
_We did have one sad event take place here near the beginning of this month. Our old hound dog, Rufus died. Of course it wasn't a shock to anyone as he has been slowing down quite a bit over the past year or so and I suppose the winter was just too much for him. I don't believe he suffered really. Thaddeus found him curled up in a nice cozy nest of hay out in the barn with the two little dogs staying by him until we came out to find him. Of course Beth was quite upset as she is so fond of all the dogs and it took some time for a smile to come back to her face again. Pebbles and Peanut did a lot to try and lift her spirits and whenever she was outside they would be hovering around her and jumping into her lap whenever the opportunity would present itself. It so amazes me still, how animals seem to know when someone they care about is distressed, but of course they were both upset over losing their buddy as well, so I suppose it was a mutual mourning ritual._  
_I'm sure we will have no trouble finding ourselves another good dog come spring. There are usually one or two neighbours who are quite happy to find homes for new puppies that whelped out during the winter so we will probably have our pick!_  
_Also Sam and Maribelle are expecting again! Sam is of course quite thrilled and everyone is keeping their fingers crossed that everything will go well this time. Thank goodness that Sam's mother is living with them as she has been no end of support for the young couple and is insisting that Maribelle stay off her feet and take it easy, especially through the winter months. David is keeping a close eye on the mother-to-be and is also encouraging her to stay quiet._  
_Little Daisy is doing well, and actually she's not so little anymore! She's almost caught up to her mother in height and only needs time to lose her gangly legs and baby build before she's going to be quite the looker! She and Beth have quite the relationship and indeed it's very humorous to see Beth out in the field with both Daisy and Karma following her around like a pair of large dogs wanting attention! I think that once Daisy is broke out, she and Beth are going to make a real pair!_  
_I believe that is all for now Joshua. I hope you are staying warm and continue to eat enough and that you are staying out of trouble. The hearing is set for the middle of March and everyone is hopeful of a positive outcome, so be patient and have faith._

_With much love, Belle_

Yeah, be patient and have faith. Hmmmm. That's what everyone kept saying, but nobody was saying 'faith in what'. Faith in the system? Yeah, that's a joke. Faith in God? Was there such a thing? Many of the people whom he cared about and respected seemed to think so, but...Then he supposed that it was faith in his friends that he had to hold on to-at least that was tangible, that was something he could see and hold and know was real. So, yeah. Faith in his friends. Yeah.

The first week of February found Heyes starting to feel better and getting back into his regular routine. He was putting in his usual day over in the infirmary and there were indeed a few patients taking up bed space and keeping the doctor and his assistant relatively busy. Sister Julia was in attendance as well, along with a legitimate novice this time who truly was considering a life in the service of the church and was getting her first taste of tending to the ill and injured at the prison.  
Two of the patients who were in the ward at that time were there due to pneumonia and the Sister and the novice were keeping busy tending to their needs. It was of course generally hoped that the two young men would recover fully from their illnesses and be back to their regular duties before the month was out. It had been a bad winter for pneumonia but so far no one had died from it and the medical staff was hoping to keep it that way.  
The third patient was Boeman, and he was not sick; he was battered and broken. A mild concussion, a broken arm and two broken ribs to be precise. Nobody knows for sure what happened; he claims he slipped on the icy steps outside-again and since nobody witnessed it, there was no one to say otherwise. It should be noted though that every time Heyes walked past the bed where that sleeping patient lay, a small self-satisfied smile would twitch at the corner of his mouth and the pecking order had been re-established once again  
The novice, Marilyn by name was taking to the tasks at hand like a natural and Sister Julia had high hopes for her. The gruffness of some of the inmates didn't seem to deter her and her gentle care of those who were sick did wonders for the patients' state of mind. Heyes would smile at her whenever they were in close proximity of one another, and even though she had no problem looking the other inmates in the eye, with him she tended to be shy and would always look away. The first opportunity Heyes had to speak to the Sister in private, he asked her why this would be, since the young woman didn't seem to be shy around anyone else. Sister Julia just smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

"You intimidate her." The Sister informed him gently.

"What?!" Heyes was incredulous. "What did I do?"

"No Joshua." She assured him with a smile. "You didn't 'do' anything. She grew up with her brothers all reading about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry and the Devil's Hole Gang so she is well aware of who you are."

"Oh." Heyes looked a little embarrassed.

"You must be used to that by now Joshua." The Sister stated. "You must know that amongst the younger people you are quite the celebrity."

Heyes nodded. "Yes Sister, I suppose I do." He conceded. "I guess it's just that I don't feel the part. It's understandable with the orphans; they're looking for a role model and I can see how the lives we led could appear to be exciting. But Marilyn is a young woman and should know better."

Sister Julia smiled. "Maybe, maybe not." She surmised most unhelpfully. "Just give her some time to get to know you and she'll get over it."

"Hmm, yeah." Heyes mumbled. "Give her time to see that there's nothing about me that's worth admiring."

"Now that's not what I meant and you know it!" Sister Julia gave him a stern look. "My, but you're down on yourself these days. What's the matter?"

Heyes shrugged and looked down. "I donno."

"You're still missing your friend, aren't you?" She observed. "You've lost so many friends these past few years. It's easy for us to forget about that in our day to day routines and you don't say anything, you just keep it all bottled up inside. No wonder you're feeling down."

Heyes smiled. "Now who am I gonna talk to in here about stuff like that?"

"Oh come on now Joshua really!" Sister Julia was incensed. "You can always talk to me for one, then there's Dr. Slosson. And I know you write home often enough and have people there you can talk to." Then she sighed and looked at him even deeper. "But you know that don't you. What is it Joshua? What is it that you don't want to talk about?"

"It's just...I feel like..." Then his mouth hardened into a tight line and he didn't want to say anything more. She would only tell him he was being foolish anyways.

"What Joshua? Please tell me. I won't hold judgement on you."

Heyes looked up at her. There she was, doing it again! That 'woman' thing of reading a man's mind.

Heyes sighed and then took a deep breath. "Just sometimes, not all the time mind you, but sometimes I think that maybe Lobo had the right idea that's all."

"That's all!?" Sister Julia responded with raised eyebrows. "Joshua please tell me you're not seriously contemplating that."

Heyes smiled at her. "No Sister, I'm not. Like I said, sometimes I wonder, that's all."

She smiled and patted his arm. "Alright." She accepted that. "But promise me that you'll come talk to one of us if you ever start to feel seriously about doing something like that. Okay?"

Heyes flashed his dimples and nodded. "Yes Sister, I promise."

"Good."

"HEYES!"

Kenny Reece had been off for a few days in exchange for the enforced overtime that he'd had to put in over Christmas. He had returned to work feeling rested and optimistic, until he found out that Boeman was back in the infirmary all broken up. Slipped on the stairs?-again! Wasn't that interesting?!  
Heyes jerked his head around at the angry beckoning. Then when he saw that guard coming at him with his bully club out, and intentions of use written all over it, he panicked! He felt the Sister grab hold of his shirt sleeve, but he pulled away from her and spinning he tried to make a run for it. But of course, there was nowhere to run to!  
Kenny was on to him in an instant and giving him a push, he shoved the inmate into the nearest wall then spun him around and had that bully club length ways across his throat!

"What the hell are you playing at Heyes?!"

"What?" Heyes croaked, he had to struggle a little bit to get the words out, but angry as Kenny was he still only used enough pressure to hold Heyes against the wall and not to choke him. "What'd I do?"

"What did you do!?" Kenny repeated and he pulled Heyes away from the wall and used the bully club to point over to the unconscious Boeman. "You retaliated didn't ya' Heyes'! You just had to get back at him for Lobinskie, didn't ya'!"

"But it was Harris who did..."

Kenny pushed him back into the wall again and leaned into him, staring him in the eye. Heyes dropped his gaze. He knew better than to fight against a guard—even Kenny, or maybe especially Kenny.

"Don't play me for a fool!" Kenny yelled at him. "Harris is Boeman's puppet! You know that just as sure as I do! You went after him didn't ya'! You waited until you had him alone and then you hit him, didn't ya'! And don't you even think about lying to me Heyes! You did it, didn't ya'!"

"ALRIGHT!" Heyes was getting mad now. "Alright! I did it!"

"Oh Joshua..." Heyes tried to ignore the disappointment in the Sister's tone. "I thought you were smarter than this Heyes!" Kenny was still seething. "We are this close to a hearing and you pull stuff like this!? How do you expect us to get any kind of justice at all if you keep insisting on dealing out your own brand of revenge!?"

"JUSTICE!?" The anger and resentment that Heyes hadn't even realized he was repressing flared out. "WHAT JUSTICE?! Boeman, Harris and Mackenzie conspired to gang up on my men! THEY KILLED LOBO! And all they got was a slap on the wrist and a stint in the dark cell! I accidentally strike a guard and I got hung from the ceiling like a slab of meat! HOW'S THAT JUSTICE!?"

"It wasn't." Kenny admitted. "It wasn't justice. That's what this hearing is all about isn't it? I thought you understood that! You keep on telling Jed that he has to start doing things the legal way now! That he can't go back to doing things the way you did when you were outlaws! But then you turn around and do exactly that yourself! Is Carson right Heyes? Is the only way to get you to see reason is to break you? Do you want me to join forces with Carson to crush you into the ground?"

"No." Real fear whispered in his tone. "God no."

"Then you are going to have to start thinking!" Kenny told him. "You are going to have to stop this bullxxxx! Because right now Heyes, you are still acting like the outlaw that you were, which makes me think that maybe you still are that outlaw. That you are never going to change! That you are never going to be safe to release back into society! That you are always going to be dangerous and unpredictable!"

Kenny was startled out of his anger by Heyes' reaction to those words. The inmate flinched as though he'd been struck and the blood drained from his face.

"That's what the judge said."

"What?"

"The judge at my trial." Heyes breathed. "Just before he sentenced me to life in this hell hole he said that I was a dangerous man with no real intentions of reformation."

Silence weighed heavy in the infirmary. "Well, you're doing a good job of proving him right." Kenny commented quietly

"I'm never going to get outa here." Heyes mumbled miserably.

Kenny released a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his short hair and turned around to suddenly be brought up short by the numerous pairs of eyes that had been focused on the argument.

"Oh crap." He mumbled. Then; "Sister, I apologize. I didn't realize you had your novice with you today. I'm sorry miss. I don't usually lose my temper like that."

Marilyn smiled at him accepting his apology, but still hovered close to Sister Julia all the same. Kenny sighed again and then glanced back at the inmate.

"Carry on with you duties Heyes." He said. "We'll talk later, when I'm not quite so pissed off with you."

Heyes nodded, looking dejected. Kenny walked on towards the far exit and sent Morin an acknowledgement as he went.

"Doc. See ya' later."

"Kenny."

Then the whole room breathed a collective sigh of relief and Morin smiled over at his assistant.

"Well Heyes." He said. "I bet you're wishing I still had that bottle of whiskey around here somewhere, ain't ya'?

By the time Heyes' next shift in the laundry room came by Kenny had still not made a point of coming around to talk with him. In fact, it seemed to the inmate that the guard was doing everything he could to avoid speaking to him. Heyes was getting anxious about the whole situation. He'd been walking around with a guilty knot in his gut ever since Kenny had come to visit him in the infirmary and it was just getting worse as time went on. Finally Heyes decided that it was time to clear the air and get things settled. Sometime around mid-morning Kenny strode into the laundry room casually tossing a balled up pair of socks into the air and catching them—then repeating. Heyes glanced up from folding dish towels and Kenny stopped tossing the socks and sent a speculative look over to the inmate.

"Funny thing." Kenny commented. "But there's something about a pair of socks falling from above and hitting me on the top of the head that makes me think that someone in the laundry room wants to have a word."

Heyes looked sheepish. "Yessir Mr. Reece." He admitted, then shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry."

"Well at least it was socks and not the iron."

Heyes twitched a smile. "Yessir."

"What's on your mind Heyes?"

Heyes looked uncomfortable; he wasn't used to having to backtrack on his choices. He was still too used to being the boss, and being the boss meant that you were always right—even when you were wrong.

"Ahhumm." Was the feeble beginning. "I just wanted to apologize."

"Oh yes? For what?" Kenny was not going to make this easy on him.

Heyes slumped in defeat, rolling his eyes. "For...going after Boeman."

Silence. Obviously Kenny was waiting for something more.

"I just...Ahhumm." This was proving to be harder than he thought. Then he took a deep breath and decided to go for broke. "It's always been that way for me. Ever since my folks died, I was the one in charge, I was the one responsible for looking out after others. At first it was just Kid but then it became more than just him. Even in the Plummer gang, it was me who was responsible for opening the safe, for providing the 'payday'. Everyone was counting on me, you see? If I failed then the whole gang went hungry.  
Then we were at Devil's Hole and it was the same situation again. Big Jim counted on me to get the safe open, quickly and safely. It was all on me. The better I got at what I did then the more Big Jim and the gang counted on me to do the job right. So, when Jim and a couple of the other fellas got arrested and sent to prison, it just came as the natural next step for me to take over and continue to run things. Only now I was responsible for not only seeing the plan through, but for coming up with the plans in the first place.  
"I had to—don't ya' see? I had to be on top of everything and everybody. Our very survival depended upon it. And then on top of that, there's always somebody who wants to take over so I had to be tough I couldn't let any of them think that they could contradict me or defy my orders so if any of them tried it I had to retaliate instantly. It was just...that's the way it was. You saw what Lobo was like and he wasn't really an exception. Most of the men I had to control were hard and some were downright mean and wouldn't hesitate to slit my throat if they thought they could get away with it. You have to be brutal sometimes and you have to be ruthless just to keep them in line.  
"I don't think I could have done it without the Kid backing me up. But that's the way it was, the way it's always been. Kid and I, we looked after each other, but I was still the leader, I was still responsible. Whether it was just for the Kid or for the whole gang, it has always fallen to me to be responsible and to make sure everybody got enough to eat. And to try and make sure nobody got killed.  
"When you've been doing something a certain way all your life, it's kinda hard to stop. Somebody goes against me or mine, it's just second nature now to set it straight."

Kenny nodded as he took all this in.

"Yeah." He finally acknowledged this testimonial. "You've had a hard life Heyes, I know that. Nobody's denying it. You had to be tough to survive, I know. I see it all the time in here, with the people who come and go from this place. But you have a couple of things going for you that those others didn't have and I suppose because of that, I expect more from you."

Heyes smirked a little bit. "What have I got?" He asked sardonically. "What's makes me so special?"

"Jeez Heyes. Don't you know?"

Heyes shrugged and shook his head.

"Well, for one thing you've got friends." Kenny pointed out. "Friends who are staying true to the cause and who are willing to do whatever it takes to help you. That in itself should be enough to make you realize that this isn't just all about you. You have an obligation to hold up your end in this and to not do stupid things that are only going to create more problems and make your friends' jobs all that much more difficult."

Heyes stood silently, staring off into the middle distance, or at least as far as he could inside the laundry room. Hadn't Abi said something similar to that in her last letter to him? Basically telling him not to be so bloody selfish; that he had friends who were worried about him and he had some responsibility towards them to keep himself safe, etc. etc. Now here was Kenny reprimanding him for the same self-serving behaviour. Heavy sigh. Everybody kept telling him the same thing over and over again and it just didn't seem to be sinking in.

"Then, for another thing...Heyes?" Kenny got the inmate's attention focused back onto him. "You're smart. You've got to be the smartest man I've ever known. Too smart for your own good it seems sometimes. So smart that you end up doing stupid things because you think you're still in control. You think you're still running the show."

Heyes snorted. "How could I be running the show from in here?"

"Exactly." Kenny agreed. "But you're so used to being in charge that you still insist on acting as though you still are—even though, as you say; how could you be from in here? And yet you're constantly thinking, you're constantly trying to get your own way. You know what the rules are and you're always trying to find a way around them and not get caught."

Heyes subconsciously wiped the palms of his hands against his trousers. Suddenly they were feeling sweaty.

"Yeah, I suppose." He conceded. "Everybody keeps telling me to let go—to take a subordinate role in these events and I keep on agreeing to do that, but I'm beginning to think that I don't know how. I'm trying to. I mean it when I agree to it—but then I just carry on doing what I always do. I don't know how not to." He sighed dejectedly and again hesitated while he thought about how much of himself he should reveal and then shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "I can never get my mind to shut down."

"What?" This odd confession took Kenny by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"This brilliant mind that everyone keeps saying is so wonderful." Heyes explained. "It won't turn off. Oh, I've learned certain techniques to quiet it down at night so that usually I find a way to get to sleep." He smiled reflectively. "Dr. Slosson has helped me out with that quite a bit. But still, some nights I don't get to sleep at all. You all comment on how hard I am to handle when I have nothing to do, but I don't mean to be-my mind just won't settle and sometimes it just about drives me crazy."

Kenny looked perplexed; this was a new one on him. "Have you spoken to Dr. Morin about this?"

"Yeah, a bit." Heyes admitted a little self-consciously. "He'll give me a low dose sleeping draught for when it's really bad, but he says the more I use that the less effective it will be so it's better if I can find another way. But, the point is that I'm always thinking about solving puzzles because I have no choice. My mind just won't shut down." Then Heyes became reflective again. "I suppose that's where my problems lie; it's become second nature to me now to just start scheming. I guess, maybe what I need to do is change the direction my mind wants to go in."

"See? I told ya' you were smart." Kenny pointed out with a smile. "Now that you've thought about it you've been able to see for yourself where your problems lie. Now maybe you can start doing something about them."

"Yeah? How?"

"Turn the other cheek." Kenny suggested lightly. "If Boeman or Harris antagonize you, let them. Like you said; force your mind off into another direction. Instead of thinking about how to get back at someone, think about clever ways to avoid them. There's more at stake here now than just your pride Heyes. A lot more at stake."

"Yeah."

"I've noticed that you don't feel the need to go after Carson and yet he has done you more damage than anybody." Kenny observed. "Why is that Heyes? Is it just because he's a guard or do you accept him as the boss and you don't want to go against him—or is it something else?"

"Ahhh, well..." Heyes thought about that for a moment. "You remember that day you found me laid out in here all bruised up with a cracked rib?"

"Yup." Kenny nodded. "I've often wondered what that was all about."

"Yeah, well...that was Carson letting me know what would happen if I even thought about going after him." Heyes explained. "And I for one, believed him."

"Ah!" Kenny nodded again in understanding. "Hold that thought Heyes. And maybe try and extend it to Boeman and Harris."

Heyes snorted.

"Yeah, I know." Kenny continued. "But if you convince yourself that retaliating against those two would bring about the same repercussions as going after Mr. Carson then maybe you can convince yourself to leave them alone."

"Yeah." Heyes sounded sceptical.

"It might surprise you to know that Murtry is actually doing alright on his own." Kenny informed him. "He's made friends in here and even those who are not his friends, recognize him as a 'non-combatant' and are willing to leave him in peace." Then Kenny became reflective. "Did it ever occur to you that it was you making sure that everyone knew that Murtry and Lobinskie were under you protection that caused them to be singled out that day?"

"You saying that it's my fault that Lobo was killed?"

"No." Kenny assured him quietly. "Lobinskie did that to himself. He made it clear right from the start what his intentions were and unfortunately once an inmate decides that he'd rather be dead than in here there's not much we can do to prevent him from suiciding. Even if we tie him to his cot and lock him in his cell, sooner or later he'll find a way. The point I'm trying to make Heyes is that if you had left it alone, well they would have had to go through the usual initiation, you know, but after that well, Murtry at least would probably have been alright. It's only because Boeman knew that he could get to you through Murtry that he was singled out. And you just played right into it. You're smart enough to know better Heyes, but you walked right into the trap anyways."

Heyes became a little bit defensive here. "I couldn't just stand by and let Kyle get beat up! Especially after what had just happened to Lobo!"

"But he wouldn't have been getting beat up if you hadn't taken on the role as his protector!" Kenny was getting frustrated. He knew that Heyes was trying to wrap his mind around this concept, but it was so foreign to his usual mind set that he was having a hard time with it. "If you had just let things be, allowed Murtry to find his footing in here on his own then Boeman wouldn't have had a weapon to use against you. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

Heyes was standing with creased brow and looking perplexed. He was taking in Kenny's words and being as quick as he was on the intellectual level, it didn't take long for the epiphany to hit him right between the eyes. Then he groaned with the realization of what a fool he had been.

"I just keep falling back onto my old habits, don't I?" He mumbled. "I don't even realize I'm doing it but I just keep making the same mistakes over and over again."

"Yeah." But then Kenny smiled. "But I'm told that the first step in correcting bad habits is to realize what they are in the first place. You just have to try and let go of this need in you to be in control. I know it's hard-it's not what you're used to, but you really do need to step back. And to be quite honest, I think that Mr. Murtry is quite capable of getting through his sentence on his own. You're right in that he is not that bright—but he is likeable. He is a most unusual outlaw."

Heyes laughed out loud. "He is that!"

"So you see, you don't need to be in control of everything." Kenny continued. "You can relax." Then he smiled. "For your first lesson in humility maybe you should try making friends with that old tom cat."

Heyes' smile dropped. He didn't like the sound of that at all.

Kenny continued to grin as he tossed the pair of socks over to the inmate and then turned to go.

"Carry on, Mr. Heyes. You're doing a fine job here."

It could not have been a chillier more damp day than if they'd actually put in a request for such. At least it wasn't snowing! Jed, Lom, Beth and Clementine were sitting in the foyer of the Cheyenne courthouse, trying to warm up and waiting for the council room to become available. Steven and Bridget were already there—somewhere; Steven probably getting some last minute things arranged for the hearing that was scheduled to start in about half an hour. Jed was nervous which is not surprising, considering how much was riding on what was being presented on this day and what the outcome could mean for one inmate in particular and the whole Auburn Prison System in general.  
They knew that Mac hadn't been able to attend, which hadn't been much of a surprise what with the foul weather and all, and he really didn't have much more to offer than what he had already stated at Jed's trial two years ago. Jed hoped it was going to be enough. Beth was concerned that she wasn't going to come across as plausible and was repeatedly going over and over her own testimony in her mind just to make sure she wasn't going to forget anything. Kenny was around somewhere and had the reports from Dr. Morin and from Sister Julia to back up much of what others were going to be stating first hand, but that was about all they had and everyone was concerned that it might not be enough. Then Jed turned to look down the hall way when a familiar but totally unexpected voice called out to him.

"Kid! Hey Kid! It's good to see ya'!"

"Harry?!" Jed was incredulous. "What are you doin' here?"

"Well that lawyer—ah, Mr. Granger—now he finally got hold of me and asked if I was still interested in giving my testimonial about you two. How could I say 'no'?! What I have to say could make all the difference here, ya' know!"

"Ah, yeah, I know." Jed commented dryly. Then he looked over to Beth as she stood up to greet the newcomer. "Ah, Beth, darlin' this is Harry Briscoe, he's a detective with the Bannerman Detective Agency. Ah, Harry, this is Beth Jordan. She's a friend. "

"Why, hello Mr. Briscoe." Beth greeted him with a smile and an outreached hand for shaking. "I must admit that I am quite familiar with your name. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Why, yes ma'am." Harry shook her hand and tipped his hat. "I'm sure it must be quite a thrill to meet a real life detective."

"Yes." Beth repeated with a smile. "I have certainly heard a lot about you."

"And this is Miss Clementine Hale." Jed continued with the introductions. "Another long time friend."

"How do you do Miss Hale." Harry took her hand and gave if a soft kiss and then smiled appreciatively at her.

Clem being Clem flirted back at him and gave him her most charming smile

"Why, hello Mr. Brisco. How very nice to meet you." She stated. "Are you here to help our friend as well?"

"Why, yes ma'am." Harry agreed still smiling at the pretty woman. "Stand by your friends is what I always say! Yessir! Friends are what matter—so you gotta stand by 'em! Yes ma'am."

Clementine smiled sweetly but then discreetly removed her hand from Harry's embrace and returned to her seat on the bench to continue with their wait. She liked men, but one has to draw the line somewhere!  
Jed was just introducing Lom to the new arrival when Steven and Bridget showed up and announced that the chamber that was reserved for their particular hearing was ready to receive them now. Everybody took deep breaths and nervously started to straighten hair and smooth out imagined wrinkles from their fine clothing. Beth brushed Jed's shoulders and straightened his tie. He have her a bit of a nervous smile.

"Wish me luck darlin'." He mumbled to her.

She smiled. "Luck darlin'"

His smile broadened and he gave her a hug. "Back at ya'."

The group started to head down the hallway following Steven since he seemed to be the only one who had any idea as to how things worked here. Everybody felt out of place, not just Jed, although Harry as usual was trying to put on a big show of being in charge. Nobody was listening to him. Finally Steven turned to a large set of double wooden doors which he opened inwards and then ushered everybody through. None of the officials were present yet so the group had a chance to get settled in chairs lined up at a long table that had been set up for their use. There was a second table much the same as the first with it's own set of chairs, facing the first table so that the officials, once they arrived and got settled would be facing the presenters. Everybody quietly took their seats and got settled while some of them who had brought notes with them now opened up their satchels and started to get the paperwork organized.  
It was definitely a subdued group as the atmosphere in the room was one of not only nervousness over the importance of their mission, but as in most government proceedings, the air of wealth and power—and intimidation lingered over everyone. Beth smiled as she noticed Kenny Reece bringing up the rear of the group as they all headed in and got settled. She still appreciated what a fine looking 'older' man he was and now especially when he was wearing a suit instead of his guard's uniform, she thought that he looked especially handsome. Jed smiled at seeing him just for the fact that he had actually shown up and as Kenny came over to sit beside Jed, he shook the guard's hand in relief

"Kenny, thank goodness." Jed exclaimed quietly, the room itself encouraging soft tones. "I was afraid you'd gotten lost or decided not to come after all—or something!"

"No, no." Kenny assured him as he sat down. "I was just getting the other testimonials over to the board members so that they would have a chance to look over those statements before we got under way here."

"Ah." Jed nodded. "Do you think we have enough?"

"I sure hope so." Kenny said with a sigh and then started to get his own notes ready. "I'd hate to think that I've put so much on the line just to have it amount to nothing but trouble."

"Yeah."

Just then the far door behind the second long table opened up and six very official looking gentlemen made their way into the chamber and got themselves settled at their table. There was some subtle coughing and rustling of papers and then it appeared that the assembly was ready to proceed. The rather large man with the rather large white whiskers who had taken the seat in the middle of the table now called the meeting to order and the hearing got underway.

"Mr. Granger." The whiskers said. "Is everyone here who wishes to be a part of this hearing?"

Steven stood up. "Yes sir Mr. Ludlow. Everyone is present."

"Fine." Mr. Ludlow rumbled. "I will introduce the other members of the board and then we shall proceed. On my far right is Mr. Simons, then Mr. Douglas, Mr. Wilton. On my left is seated Mr. Brewster and next to him is Mr. Dalton. Now, if each speaker here would identify themselves at the time they present their statements that would be fine. So, Mr. Granger if you would please state the reason for this hearing."

"Yes sir, Mr. Ludlow." Steven responded. "We are here to present an argument concerning the justifications of the Auburn Prison System and to question it's legitimacy and effectiveness in the treatment and long term effects on persons incarcerated in the Wyoming Territorial Prison. We also wish to challenge the ruling handed down in the specific case of Hannibal Heyes concerning the length of his sentence along with the ineligibility of parole that came with it. We feel that the sentence handed down to him was extreme to say the least and should be reconsidered."

"Fine Mr. Granger." Ludlow acknowledged the statement. "We will begin with the overall concerns about the prison system itself if you will. Carry on."

"Yes sir." Steven agreed. "We would like to present for consideration to the board the suggestion that the Auburn System of dealing with inmates is archaic, and also the way the system is set up not only allows for, but encourages abuses both physical and psychological to be inflicted upon the inmates in the guise of 'punishment'. I am also presenting to the board the suggestion that the wardens in charge of the prisons are allowed too much freedom in how they interpret the guidelines that have been laid down in the management of those prisons and that stricter overviews of how these institutions are being run need to be put in place.  
We have come here today prepared to present eyewitness accounts of unwarranted punishments being inflicted upon inmates by the guards. We intend to argue that many of these punishments could be more accurately described as torture inflicted out of a personal vendetta rather than any legitimate desire to discourage certain behaviour or to ensure the safety of prison personnel.  
So, with this end in mind I would like to call upon Miss Beth Jordan to give her eyewitness account of an unwarranted assault inflicted upon one of the inmates."

Then Steven nodded over to Beth and sat down, leaving the floor open for her. Beth swallowed nervously, but Jed gave her hand an encouraging squeeze and she stood up to present her accounting.

"Good afternoon." She began quietly. "Ahhumm, my name is Beth Jordan and..."

"Speak up please, miss." Mr. Ludlow requested. "We can't hear you."

"Oh! Sorry." Beth blushed and Jed gave her hand another squeeze under the table. "My name is Beth Jordan." She repeated with a little bit more volume. "And I've been a friend of Joshua's for a number of years now..."

"Excuse me." Mr. Ludlow interrupted her again. "Who is 'Joshua" and how does he relate to this case?"

"Oh! No I mean, Mr. Heyes—Hannibal Heyes." Beth stammered. "I'm sorry, I'm accustomed to calling him by his alias. I mean, that's the name I have known him by for a long time now."

"Yes miss." Ludlow acknowledged that. "But for the benefit of those of us present who are only familiar with Mr. Heyes' legal name I suggest that you stick to that for the duration of this hearing. However you wish to refer to Mr. Heyes on your own time is of course your business."

"Yes of course." Beth agreed. "I'll try to remember. Anyway...I was in the prison infirmary and saw..."

"Excuse me." Ludlow interrupted her again. "You were in the prison infirmary? How is it that a young lady such as yourself was inside the prison infirmary?"

"I was there assisting Sister Julia with the care of some of the inmates. Beth explained. "I was considering taking on a life of service to the church and Sister Julia was kind enough to allow me to help her in her duties so that I could get some experience and see if it was the life I truly wanted."

"And was it?" Ludlow asked her.

Beth dropped her gaze for a moment. "No, I don't think so."

"Alright Miss Jordan, carry on." Ludlow instructed her. "What did you see in the prison infirmary?"

"Well they beat him for no reason!"

Ludlow sighed. "You'll have to be more precise than that miss. Who beat who?"

"Oh, yes of course." Beth mumbled. "I do seem to be making a mess of this."

"That's alright Miss Jordan." Ludlow encouraged her. "Just relax and take your time. And please try to be precise as to who did what."

"Yes, I will." Beth promised and she glanced down at Jed sitting beside her. He smiled up at her and continued to hold her hand. She took a deep breath. "I saw the senior guard, Mr. Carson beat up on Mr. Heyes for no reason. Mr. Heyes had only been doing his job as the doctor's assistant and the guard was accusing him of breaking a number of rules and therefore deserved to be punished. But the punishment was brutal and undeserved and seemed to be more of a personal vendetta to me rather than a..."

"Just state the facts as you saw them Miss Jordan." Ludlow reminded her. "Your personal feelings in the matter are not relevant at this point. How do you know that the punishment was undeserved? If the guard stated that Mr. Heyes had broken certain rules then it seems to me that the guard was within his rights to delve out punishment."

Beth took another deep breath and told herself to get a grip. She had to start making sense here or none of what she had to say would be of any use.

"I was with Sister Julia in the infirmary helping with some of the duties there when one of the guards came in to say that the doctor was needed on the work floor. Apparently there had been a fight amongst the inmates and one of the men had been stabbed. Dr. Morin grabbed some essentials and we all went to the work floor to tend to the emergency. When we got there, there was a man on the floor with one of the work knives in his side. Mr. Heyes was kneeling beside him, putting pressure on the wound to try and stop the bleeding. The atmosphere was very stressful, apparently one of the other guards had tried to pull the knife out and Mr. Heyes had stopped him from doing so..."

Again Mr. Ludlow stopped her. "Did you actually see this Miss Jordan? You have just stated that when you arrived in the work area, Mr. Heyes was beside the injured man and tending to him. Now you say that he had to stop another guard from pulling out the knife. Did you actually see the guard do this?"

"Oh, no." Beth admitted. "That had happened before we arrived there. All I saw was Josh...Hannibal trying to tend to the injured man. And Mr. Reece was there and supporting what Hannibal was doing. Then of course, Dr. Morin and Sister Julia moved in and took over and we carried the injured man back to the infirmary."

"Fine Miss Jordan." Ludlow encouraged her. "Carry on. But please, try to stick with what you personally witnessed—not what you think happened, but what you know for yourself, did happened."

"Yes sir." Beth agreed. "We got the injured man into the infirmary and then Dr. Morin, Sister Julia and Hannibal went about treating him. When he was finally resting quietly, Hannibal went to sit over by the counter and Dr. Morin went to speak with him—I don't know what they were saying but it seemed friendly enough. I saw Josh...I mean Hannibal smile."  
And here Beth smiled herself at the memory of seeing her friend looking pleased.  
"Then Dr. Morin left to do paper work or something, and Mr. Reece had also left the infirmary to go back to his duties. It was at this time that Mr. Carson and one of the other guards entered the infirmary and approached Hannibal. Everybody became quite nervous, you could just feel it in the air that something bad was going to happen. The two guards sort of trapped Hannibal between them so that he couldn't get away and then they started to talk to him. But it wasn't friendly—it was very threatening. They accused him of breaking rules out on the work floor and the fact that he was doing his duty as the medical assistant didn't seem to matter to them; they were determined to find fault with his behaviour.  
"Sister Julia tried to talk reason with them but they shut her out. Dr. Morin returned and tried to stop the harassment as well, but Mr. Carson just pushed him down. And then they started to..."  
Beth stopped talking for a moment, sudden emotion at the recollection of the beating catching her in the throat and threatening to strangle off her words. She squeezed Jed's hand even tighter and then swallowing down the knot, she continued.  
"They beat him! He had done nothing—he had been totally submissive to them and they beat him with those awful clubs! Even after he went down and had rolled in a ball trying to protect himself they carried on kicking him!"

Beth's other hand went to her mouth as she fought to hold back the sob that threatened to burst forth. She so hated that about herself—this tendency to start crying when things got difficult or upsetting. She had to gain more self control! She fought against the emotions and finally took a deep breath and looked over to Mr. Ludlow.

"I had to stop them." She stated matter-of-factually. "I couldn't just stand there and watch that beating go on!"

"You had to stop them Miss Jordan?" Ludlow asked her. "What do you mean?"

"I got in between them." She again stated bluntly. "I told them to stop hurting him!"

There were some smiles passed amongst the board members as they tried to picture this slip of a young woman standing up to two prison guards in order to protect her friend.

"And did they stop?" Ludlow asked.

"Yes, they did." Beth admitted. "Then Dr. Morin was back on his feet and he told them to get out! That they had overstepped their authority and that the warden was going to hear about it. Mr. Carson said something else to Hannibal at that time, but I don't know what it was. Then they left."

"Alright, Miss Jordan, thank you." Mr. Ludlow said. "You may sit down. Now, I have Dr. Morin's statement here that pretty much supports what Miss Jordan has said, but he was not on the floor himself at the time of the apparent assault upon the guard—a Mr. Thompson, I believe. Mr. Granger, do you have an eyewitness to that assault?"

"Yes sir, I do." Steven announced and nodded to Kenny.

Kenny stood up then and introduced himself.

"Good afternoon gentlemen." He greeted the board. "My name is Ken Reece and I've been a guard at the Wyoming Territorial Prison for close to twenty years now. I've seen a lot of things go on there that I feel at this point should not be allowed to continue. But, I will focus on this incident in particular for now as it does demonstrate the typical attitude of some of the guards towards the inmates. "I was on the floor that day when Mr. Ames was stabbed in a fight between himself and another undisclosed inmate. The knife had entered Mr .Ames here." And Kenny indicated on his own ribcage where the knife wound had been.  
"Mr. Ames was lying on the floor obviously in a great deal of pain and Mr. Thompson, one of the junior guards approached the inmate and had grabbed hold of the knife handle with the apparent intentions of pulling the weapon out. Mr. Heyes, who is the medical assistant for Dr. Morin recognized this act as being detrimental to the welfare of the injured man and came forward to stop the action. "He told the guard first to not pull the knife out, but when Mr. Thompson ignored him, Mr. Heyes physically pushed him away and then stepped in to apply pressure to the wound until Dr. Morin and the Sister arrived to take over. Mr. Thompson took exception to this treatment from an inmate and began to beat Mr. Heyes across the shoulders with his club at which point I stepped in to stop this assault. "As the official medical assistant Mr. Heyes was well within his rights to do whatever was necessary to insure the proper treatment of an injured man. It is generally accepted that the usual rules for an inmate's conduct are suspended when an injured man's life is a stake and that was indeed the case here. Dr. Morin later commented that Mr. Heyes' actions out on the work floor saved the injured man's life.  
"It is also generally accepted that when the medical assistant is in the infirmary tending to his duties there that he is not subject to the rules that he would be when out on the work floor tending to his regular duties. Mr. Carson was not within his rights to accuse the inmate of breaking any rules and was certainly not within his rights to delve out punishment in that manner. "If there had been some dispute over the legitimacy of Mr. Heyes' actions that day then Mr. Carson should have taken them up with Warden Mitchell. Which at that point if it had been deemed appropriate proper punishment would have been ordered and it would have been executed in a controlled fashion. Done as it was, it can only be called an act of unprovoked abuse against a man who was only doing his duty. "Since that incident, I'm sorry to say, there has been another event take place that became the deciding factor for me to attend this hearing. There was a fight involving a number of the inmates, including Mr. Heyes with one death resulting from this fight. The death was not caused by Mr. Heyes, again he tried to do what he could to save the man, but he was unable to. Mr. Heyes' other actions in this particular incident did warrant some form of punishment but not to the extent that it was ultimately given. "Indeed it is my opinion that what Mr. Carson inflicted upon Mr. Heyes that day could only be called 'torture' and went far beyond what would have been considered appropriate punishment for the misdeeds perpetrated."

At this point in Kenny's testimony Jed was suddenly sitting up with interest. Heyes had said nothing about torture in his last letter. Indeed, it had just been a casual mention of 'the usual punishment' for fighting. What had happened that Heyes had felt he could not tell his best friend and partner about it?

"That is a rather dangerous accusation to make Mr. Reece." Mr. Ludlow cautioned him. "Are you sure you wish to continue with this line?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Ludlow." Kenny was adamant. "I believe that it is important for this incident to be brought to light so that the members of this board will have a clear understanding of what is happening in our prisons."

"Alright Mr. Reece." Ludlow agreed. "You still hold the floor."

Kenny nodded and then stood quietly for a moment to collect his thoughts. Then he took a deep breath and began his narrative.

"You need to understand that in a prison society there is a certain pecking order amongst the inmates." Kenny explained. "This pecking order is usually established through body language and intimidation and rarely escalates into actual physical fighting. Unfortunately in the case of Hannibal Heyes and another inmate, Frank Boeman this contest of wills often did end up in a physical conflict.  
"Usually the aggressor was Boeman and usually it was Boeman who lost these battles and ended up having to accept the submissive role at least where Heyes was concerned. Unfortunately Mr. Boeman was not content to let things lay and he partnered up with another inmate, Carl Harris and together they waited for an appropriate moment and then ambushed Mr. Heyes with what can only be called 'murderous' intent.  
"The resulting fight in that instance was brutal and far reaching. It not only caused serious injury to the three main antagonists, but it also created a riot situation which needed a very aggressive assault from the contingent of guards on duty at the time in order to quell it.  
"I bring this situation to the board members' attention simply to demonstrate the ongoing antagonism that underlies the relationships between those three inmates. Heyes was the established alpha whether he wanted the position or not. Boeman realized that he was no match for Heyes in a 'fair' fight and using Harris to try and blindside him hadn't worked either. On top of that, their efforts to get Heyes alone and gang up on him also weren't working. Heyes was just too smart for that and could generally see an ambush coming long before the trap could be sprung and he simply avoided them.  
"Then, two new inmates arrived at the prison. Mr. Lobinskie and Mr. Murtry were members of the Devil's Hole Gang and as you gentlemen of the board are aware, I'm sure; Hannibal Heyes had been the leader of that gang for a number of years. So, of course he not only knew Lobinskie and Murtry but also felt some responsibility for them once they had been incarcerated into the prison. Indeed Heyes let it be known that the two new inmates were under his protection and anyone messing with them would ultimately be messing with him. "Everything stayed reasonably quiet through the fall and into winter but Boeman was waiting for an opportunity to retaliate against Heyes and when that opportunity presented itself, Mr. Boeman was quick to send in his lackeys to draw Mr. Heyes into an altercation. Unfortunately, it worked.  
"Mr. Boeman wisely stayed out of it, sending in Mr. Harris and another inmate, Mr. MacKenzie to do the dirty work. They attacked Mr. Lobinskie first in order to get Heyes' attention and to draw him out and force him into a response. In that initial confrontation, Mr. Lobinskie received a fatal wound and despite Heyes' efforts to save his life, he died right there on the work floor. "Then the second stage of the campaign was set in motion with Harris and MacKenzie ganging up on Mr. Murtry. As you can imagine, Heyes' emotions were running high by now and even though he was aware that it was a set-up, he none the less went to the defence of his other friend. The four way battle that ensued was fierce to say the least. Heyes' blood was up and he was fighting for his life and for the life of his friend. "Now, Mr. Thompson who, as I mentioned earlier is a junior guard and not very experienced, but likes to think that he is decided that he was going to simply step in and break up the fight. Mr. Thompson, without identifying himself first as a guard put a hand on Heyes' back and that inmate, still in a fight lust, swung on the guard and struck him on the top of the shoulder, breaking his collar bone."

Kid groaned at this point, shaking his head. So much for Heyes staying out of trouble.

"As soon as Heyes had realized what he had done, he became passive and backed off the guard." Kenny continued, ignoring Jed's grumble. "Unfortunately the other guards in attendance did not back off and they beat Heyes into the floor and ultimately had to be ordered off of him by the senior guard, Mr. Carson.  
"At this point, I was becoming very concerned for the safety of Mr. Heyes. As already exhibited to the members of the board by Miss Jordan, Mr. Carson can be overly aggressive when dealing with Mr. Heyes. Heyes is a very intelligent and charismatic individual and unfortunately Mr. Carson tends to resent those qualities in an inmate and will do everything he can to squash them, to break them as it were. All under the guise of legitimate punishment.  
"In this instance, I'm sorry to say, Mr. Carson went too far. I am agreeable to the argument that Mr. Heyes was deserving of some form of punishment for fighting and for striking a guard, albeit accidentally. But Mr. Carson overstepped his authority in this case and, as mentioned before, it is what transpired next that convinced me to step forward and bring to light some the abuses that have been taking place at the prison."

Kenny hesitated once again and glanced regretfully over to Jed and Miss Jordan. He had surmised by Jed's lack of concern over his partners' welfare that Heyes had not told him of this incident—at least not in detail. None of Heyes' friends who were present here would know anything about this event and Kenny knew that it was going to be hard for them to hear about it now.

He took another deep breath and continued on. "What happened to Mr. Heyes at the hands of Mr. Carson at this point can not be described as anything other than torture. I'm sure you gentlemen are aware of what it means to subject an individual to 'strappado'?"

The men on the committee all paled and looked uncomfortable. Mr. Ludlow nodded. Steven groaned, Lom's expression darkened while the other presenters glanced around a each other, looking confused, but also worried by the responses from the other people in the room.

"Heyes was forced to endure four hours of it.' Kenny informed them. "Fortunately he was never dropped any distance which would surely have dislocated his shoulders but he was left to hang, in agony for four hours. Indeed, Mr. Carson had ordered it to last for five hours, but I was able to take ov

and bring him down after four."

"He survived four hours of strappado?" Mr. Wilton asked, speaking out of line in his consternation. "I didn't realize that that form of punishment was still permitted in our prisons."

"Apparently our prison is still set up for it Mr. Wilton." Kenny observed dryly. "Even if it is not generally put to use, the option is there if the senior guard or the warden wish to utilize it."

This statement was met with some incredulous body language from the members of the board and everyone shifted uncomfortably. Jed felt a knot of dread hit his stomach and stay there. He didn't know what 'strappado' was, but by the context of the conversation he already knew he didn't like it.

"Now, this incident with Mr. Heyes, though extreme in itself is simply an example of many such abuses that have been allowed to continue at the prison." Kenny carried on once everyone had settled again. "The Auburn System was put in place with all the best of intentions I'm sure but even with the open ended guidelines on punishments put aside, the psychological benefits that were initially intended by the system's structure have proven to be unsubstantiated.  
"In the twenty years that I have worked within the structure of the Auburn System, I have seen the mental stability of long term inmates deteriorate rather than improve with the enforced social segregation. Aggression and frustration build up over time and result in tensions between the inmates and resentments towards the guards. On the other side of the same coin, depression often takes hold of certain individuals and suicides are not uncommon within our walls. Indeed, there have even been instances of former inmates who have served their time and been released, only to find that they can no longer function within our society and end up taking their own lives even after the fact.  
"It is my opinion, based on my years of experience at the prison that changes are definitely called for. That there needs to be stricter guide lines put in place when it comes to administering punishments and that these guidelines be enforced not only by the warden, but by a committee such as this to insure its integrity. The ruling that prisoners are not allowed to talk to one another, though sound in its original concept, the reality of it and it's consequences needs to be examined more closely. Personally, again based on my experience I have found the effects of this ruling to be detrimental to a person's sanity rather than helpful to them in gaining insights into their previous criminal behaviour.  
"I highly recommend to the board members that a group of officials be sent to the Wyoming Territorial Prison in order to carry out an inspection of the institution and of the people who are in charge of its operation. I also recommend that the current system of running the prison needs to be re-examined and re-structured in order to lift it out of the archaic bog that it is currently wallowing in The fact that most of our inmates are released back into society in a worse state of mind than they were in when they entered the institution is a loud and clear warning bell that the current system of running the prisons is not working. "On that recommendation I now conclude my testimonial and I thank you, gentlemen, for your time."

Kenny sat back down and the room was blanketed in a heavy silence for what seemed an eternity. Finally Mr. Ludlow roused himself from his trance and took control of the meeting again.

"Ahhh, yes! Thank you Mr. Reece." He nodded to the guard. "Your comments were very enlightening to say the least. I suggest we take a half hour break to re-group and refresh ourselves. Please return here by 3:00 pm, thank you."

Ten minutes later found our group of protagonists sitting around a large table in the visitor's lounge trying to enjoy some coffee. Unfortunately the mood was strained to say the least. Everyone had been aware that Kenny's testimony was going to have some disturbing content, that's why he was there after all, but no one had realized how disturbing. For those in the group who had already known what 'strappado' referred to the information that that form of 'punishment' had been inflicted upon their friend was enough to sicken them right from the moment of hearing about it  
Lom had instantly gone back in time to that day in the infirmary when Heyes, so painfully thin and weakened by his battle with pneumonia had placed a trembling hand upon his friend's knee and begged him not to leave him there. Lom inwardly groaned and shook his head with guilt and remorse over a situation that he'd had absolutely no control over. He'd never felt so helpless in his life.  
Once the group had settled in the lounge, Steven had taken the time to describe that particular form of 'punishment' to those present who were not aware of its meaning. For once in his life, Harry Briscoe, Bannerman Detective was speechless and reflective. Beth was sullen. She sat staring into space and holding onto Jed's hand with both of hers, allowing her coffee to sit untouched and cooling while one part of her tried to imagine such a thing and another part of her only wanted to block it out. Clem also had become very quiet with that revelation. She considered herself to be a sophisticated woman who could no longer be shocked by too much of anything anymore. But this had been something outside the realm of her experience. She loved Heyes dearly, and to think of him being treated in such a manner made her want to stand up and stamp her feet in frustration. Having something like that happen to him would have done damage—not only physically but psychologically as well. How permanent that damaged would be, only time would tell.  
Jed was angry. Not just at that one revelation but at oh so many different things. He was angry at Governor Moonlight for shutting them out and for thinking that the men who were incarcerated within his prison system were just so far beneath his notice that these abuses were allowed to go on. He was angry at Warden Mitchell for not only allowing that type of treatment in his prison, but apparently even encouraging it as a means to control and manipulate. He was angry at Officer Carson for the obvious reasons—the man was a bully who would stop at nothing to exact revenge upon any inmate whom he felt was not showing him the proper respect. He was angry at himself for his inability to get his partner outa there! And he was angry at Heyes! Why had his partner not told him about this? Why had he kept it hidden? 'The usual punishment for fighting'! What the hell was that all about!?

"Try not to be too angry with him Jed." Kenny's voice broke through his silent raging. "I'm sure Heyes didn't tell you because he knew that it would upset you and that there was nothing you could have done about it anyways."

Jed was startled and he shot a glance over to Kenny. Jeez, had his thoughts been that easy to read? He must really be starting to lose the edge.

"I suppose." He mumbled and took a drink of cold coffee though the hard line to his jaw did not relax.

"That was disturbing." Steven agreed. "But also very effective. Thanks to the testimonials from both of you along with Dr. Morin's medical reports and Sister Julia's reports backing them up I believe we've been quite successful in getting their attention."

Kid snorted, his optimism at a low ebb.

"I know Jed." Steven commiserated. "I know it sounds callus and I certainly don't mean it in that sense, but that incident may have just given us the ammunition we needed to get some action happening here."

Jed sat back and rolled his eyes derisively—he was in no mood to be placated. Beth continued to hold his hand, trying to be supportive. She looked over at her sister but neither of them seemed much in the mood for chatting. Steven tried to get everybody engaging again. This group would have to be a lot more upbeat than this once they returned to the hearing. There was still a long ways to go.

"Once we get back in there, I expect we will move on to the next concern in this hearing." The lawyer projected. "That of course being the unfairness of Mr. Heyes' sentence. Jed, if you would speak first and just give a general description of what you and Mr. Heyes had been promised and then just follow your notes after that. I think that your insights into your partners personality will be very helpful."

Jed nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Then Miss Hale if you would go next." Steven continued. "Now's your chance to set the record straight without fear of prosecution. This is a hearing remember, not a trial. You can speak freely."

"Yes, of course. Finally!" Clementine exclaimed. "If I wasn't permitted to help Heyes at his trial hopefully I can make a difference now!"

"I hope so." Steven agreed. "Then Mr. Briscoe, if you would follow Miss Hale. I feel that what you have to say here could make quite the difference and I thank you for being willing to come forward."

"Anything to help out." Harry blustered. "Why I can't count how many times these boys have helped me out of a jam—this is the least I can do!"

Then he sent a curt nod over to Curry. Jed smiled and nodded back. Harry could be a real pain sometimes, but right now, they needed all the help they could get. He just hoped that the Bannerman man wasn't going to find a way to mess things up even worse than they already were!

"Fine." Steven continued. "Then Sheriff if you would go after that. Just reiterate what the amnesty deal had been all about and how the Governor's office has obviously reneged on it." Lom just nodded.

Steven took a deep breath. The motivation level in this group was dipping down into nil. "As difficult as it is, I ask you all now to try to put your emotions on the side during your testimonials. Becoming angry or accusatory at this point will not help us. Mr. Reece did an excellent job of stating the facts of a very disturbing incident and thereby made a strong impression on the board members. I hold that up as an example of how the rest of you should proceed." Everybody nodded agreement. "Good. I'll wrap things up with a closing summary and then gentlemen—and ladies, it'll be up to the board. Are we ready?"

"Yes."

"I suppose."

"Let's get to it."

At 3:00 pm everyone was back in their respective positions and the second part of the hearing came to order.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." Mr. Ludlow began. "We are now onto the other matter at hand. I believe you will be presenting a case as to the legitimacy of the sentencing of Hannibal Heyes. Mr. Granger, you may commence with your arguments."

Steven stood up. "Thank you Mr. Ludlow." Then he turned to Jed and gave him a nod.

Curry took a deep breath and stood up. Beth gave him an encouraging smile and even under these circumstances could not help but think how impressive he looked in his fine suit. But then she forced her mind back to the matter at hand and brought her eyes forward.

"Good afternoon gentlemen." Curry began, reminding himself of what Steven said about staying professional and not letting emotions come into play. "My name is Jedidiah Curry. I have known Hannibal Heyes all of my life. He is my cousin and my best friend so I feel that I am the best person here to try and explain to you his personality and motivations.  
"I know that you have all read over the transcripts from our trials so you are already aware of how it was that we ended up as outlaws and of our efforts to try and straighten out our lives and become law-abiding citizens. For me, obviously it has worked out fine, but at a very heavy cost."

Here Jed hesitated a moment to collect his thoughts. He'd had all of this sorted out and had even made notes on what to say and when to say it, but now that he was here and facing these people, his mind seemed to had turned to mush and was fighting against him. He struggled to get himself focused and thinking clearly again.

"Heyes is a proud man, I suppose like most of us to some degree and he can be very stubborn when he feels that he is in the right." Kenny smiled at this. "He is also very intelligent. Some might even say, himself included that he is a genius. Unfortunately that same intellect can get him into trouble because he gets bored easily and then he gets to thinking up ways to keep himself busy.  
"It was my idea—the amnesty. Well, maybe that's not entirely true. A lady who was on a train that we were holding up gave me a flier about amnesty and I didn't even know what it meant. I asked Heyes about it the first chance I got and he explained it to me. We both kinda decided that we wouldn't have a chance at it and tried to forget about it. "But it was just one of those things, ya' know? Once the idea takes hold it just doesn't let go. Then me and Heyes ended up having a couple of close calls and well...we just started talkin' about it again. Next thing ya' know we went down to Porterville and we got talkin' to our friend Lom about askin' the Governor about us being able to get it.  
"To make a long story short, and as I'm sure you're all aware of, Governor Hoyt said that if we stayed outa trouble for a year then he would grant us the amnesty. Both of us. I didn't think I could do it but Heyes, he talked me into it—to at least give it a try and well, Heyes he can be real masterful sometimes when he decides."

Another smile from Kenny.

"I guess the point I'm trying to make here is that the amnesty deal was offered to both of us, not one sacrificing so the other could get it. That wasn't right. Besides that Heyes is the one who kept me goin' for it. I would never have made it through, especially for five years without him egging me on so if only one of us was to get it, it should have been him.  
"Now there were two reason why Judge Parsons felt that Heyes deserved to go to prison. One was that he was involved in a confidence game during the five years that we claimed to be going straight. Well, that's true, he was. But so was I. We were both in that together and we had reasons for doing it, reasons that Heyes could not go into during his trial because it would have meant implicating other people—people who were our friends, and Heyes won't do that.  
"Again, you need to have an understanding of who Hannibal Heyes is in order to understand his reasons for allowing himself to be held in contempt of court. Heyes is cynical. I guess our childhoods made him that way—I donno. He had to grow up and be protector and provider real early on and he took that responsibility very seriously.  
"He learned not to trust people. I suppose two young teenagers trying to make their way on their own presented pretty easy marks for people out to make a buck and every time we got burned, well that was just one more reason not to trust the next fella we came across. So trust, friendship, loyalty, well Heyes just didn't hand those things out very easily. But when he did, he meant it. Yessir, if you ever earned Heyes' respect he would stand by you to the bitter end."

At this point in Jed's narrative Kenny became a little reflective. Not only did Jed's reasoning for Heyes' behaviour reflect what Heyes himself had confided, but the significance of that confidence was not lost on the guard. For some reason Heyes trusted him and now realizing what a rarity that was, Kenny was even more determined to see that changes were made and new guide lines put into place.

"That's why he appeared to be in contempt during his trial." Jed was continuing. "I tried to explain that to Governor Moonlight, but he just refused to see it. Heyes wasn't showing contempt to the court, but to an old acquaintance, Charles Morgan who had agreed to turn on his friends in exchange for leniency in his own upcoming trial. That was something that Heyes just could not abide and then proved it by the fact that he later refused to do that very same thing in order to save himself and then ended up paying a heavy price for his loyalty.  
"So, I suppose we're here today to show you that he is paying too heavy a price for it. That he was not deserving of the sentence that Judge Parsons hit him with and that it needs to be reconsidered. Heyes isn't perfect—hell, neither am I! But he deserves the chance to make something of himself and sentencing him to twenty years to life seemed more like a need for revenge than an act of justice and it just wasn't right is all—just wasn't right!"

Jed released a deep sigh here and glanced down at his notes, hoping that he had got everything out that he'd wanted to. Then he looked up to the board members again and gave a little nod.

"I suppose that's all I have to say about that." He concluded. "Thank you for your attention and I hope I have been able to get ya' to see things a little differently."

Jed then sat down and they all waited while the board members finished up jotting down notes and making quiet comments between themselves.

"Thank you Mr. Curry." Ludlow finally acknowledged. "We will certainly take your comments into consideration. Alright Mr. Granger, your next speaker may commence."

Steven nodded down to Clementine and she quickly stood up amongst a rustling of skirts and loose papers. Poor Clem always seemed to be flustered and disorganized but then all of a sudden her chaos would become poetry and she could win the hearts of everyone in the room. She looked up to the board members and beamed a smile that could melt the heart of the Governor himself. Every man on the board locked eyes with her and every single one of them was convinced that she was looking directly at him and no one else.

"Gentlemen." She greeted them sweetly and both Beth and Bridget rolled their eyes, but then settled in to watch a 'master' put flirting to good use. "My name is Clementine Hale."

"Good afternoon, Miss Hale."

"Good day, ma'am."

"How do you do, Miss Hale."

"Well, I'm doing fine. Thank you." Clem responded with a sparkle to her brown eyes.

Jed smiled silently to himself. Was that a slight southern drawl he was picking up in her tone? Kenny certainly thought that it was.

"I'm here to finally put the record straight and to let you fine gentlemen know what really happened and why it was that Heyes and Kid pulled that confidence game that resulted in Heyes going to prison." Clem began. "You see, I have known Heyes and Kid for many years—we practically grew up together so when my father was framed in an insurance scam well, right away I knew that Heyes would be the only one who could help him!" She hesitated here and smiled in fond remembrance of her friend's profound abilities. "He's such a charmer! He just has that natural talent to set up a mark and then follow it through...Oh! No, never mind." She smiled at the board again and they all smiled back. "I mean to say that I just knew that he could help me. I didn't realize that they were going for an amnesty, it was a secret, you know! So I didn't think that what I needed them to do would be putting them at any risk—no more so than any other jobs they had pulled.  
"But I also knew that Heyes can be stubborn sometimes so to insure that he agreed to help me I brought along a little bit of incentive. So when Heyes actually did refuse to help me, well, I used that bit of incentive to well—blackmail him into it."

Mr. Ludlow's thoughts returned to the matter at hand when he caught the word 'blackmail'!

"You blackmailed him into committing a crime, Miss Hale?" He asked for conformation, somewhat incredulously.

"To my ever lasting shame." Clem admitted with lowered heard. "Yes I did."

Jed hid his smile. Another con artist at work. He could hear Harry at the other end of their table 'humphing' in disgust. Yeah, he was a fine one to pass judgement on someone else!

"And what was it you used to blackmail him with, Miss Hale?" Ludlow asked her.

Clementine flashed a quick look to Steven from under her lashes and the lawyer nodded back confirmation. Clem took a deep breath.

"I had what was at the time the only pictures in existence of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry." She admitted. "And I threatened to hand those pictures over to the authorities if they didn't help me."

Silence reigned. Beth and Bridget exchanged shocked glances. They had never heard anything about this incident before and they weren't too sure how they felt about it. Their 'friend' had threatened Joshua and Thaddeus in that manner, and the fellas were still willing to talk to her?

Mr. Ludlow leaned forward, looking at Clementine with disappointment in his eyes.

"So you were willing to turn your friends in to the law, knowing that they both had twenty year sentences hanging over them, in order to force them into helping your father?"

"Well yes!" Clementine admitted again. "But as I said; I'm very much ashamed of that now. I didn't realize they were going for an amnesty! I didn't realize how much I was asking them to risk."

"Why did you not come forward at their trials with this information?" Ludlow demanded, his enticement with this young woman suddenly non-existent.

"They wouldn't let me!" Clem's attempts at flirting had dropped and she was close to stamping her foot in frustration. Then she took a deep breath to calm herself down and collect her thoughts. "They had always told me that if they ever got arrested and actually made it to trial, that I was to stay away. That my friendship with them might bring trouble down on to me as well. Both of them were very adamant about this. So that's what I did—I stayed away.  
"But it never occurred to me that they would use that particular incident to hang Heyes out to dry! Nobody saw that coming! If we had, I would have been there for Heyes, no matter what!" And here she sent daggers over to Jed. "When I found out what had happened to Heyes, I was sick! Because I knew that it was my fault because I was the person he was protecting—I was the reason he was found in contempt of court!"

Clem stopped again in her narrative and worked to get her anger and frustration under control. Everyone waited patiently for her to continue, the two other ladies in the room now feeling somewhat simpatico towards their friend in her obvious distress.

"I tried to come forward after that, to speak at Kid's trial." Clem told them. "But they wouldn't let me take the stand."

"Who wouldn't let you?" Mr. Ludlow asked her.

"Kid and Mr. Granger." She answered. "They said that it was too late to help Heyes and that it probably wouldn't matter in Kid's trial. Mr. Granger seemed to doubt that the prosecution would be using that same case against the Kid, and I guess he was proved right. They also felt that I would only be putting myself in danger of prosecution for aiding and abiding and for withholding evidence so they just wouldn't let me take the stand."

"Yes, well. They were probably right about that." Mr. Ludlow commented dryly. "Is there anything more you wish to add to your testimonial Miss Hale?"

"Yes there is!" She stated as adamantly as she could while fighting back tears. "It's just not right, what they did to Heyes! He was serious about going straight, about turning his life around and making amends! It was important to him! The only reason he strayed from that goal was because I forced him to and now he's in that awful prison being beaten and tortured, and—and if he dies in there I just don't know what I'd do! He doesn't deserve this! He deserves a chance!"

Then Clementine folded her arms and sat down in a huff! So much for being professional and not letting emotions cloud the issue. And yet, Steven surmised that perhaps a touch of honest emotions at this point might help to convey how serious everyone felt about this situation. Bridget leaned over and put an arm around Clementine's shoulders. The young Mrs. Granger's emotions had run the gauntlet from surprise, through anger and now to sympathy towards her friend, whom she could see was genuinely upset. Both Beth and Bridget were feeling a little off balance with all this new information coming at them. In their youth and naivety they assumed that they knew Clementine and certainly Joshua and Thaddeus quite well. But now they were just beginning to realize the intensity of those three relationships and how little they had actually really known about their friends. Beth in particular was beginning to feel a little vulnerable.

"Yes alright Miss Hale." Ludlow commented. "Thank you for your testimonial and we will certainly be taking it into consideration. Mr. Granger, let us continue."

"Of course, Mr. Ludlow." Steven agreed. "Mr. Briscoe, if you would."

Harry stood up with his usual air of importance and cleared his throat in preparation.

"Gentlemen, good afternoon." He greeted the board. "My name is Harry Briscoe. I'm a detective of long standing with the Bannerman Detective Agency. I'm a Bannerman man!"  
This announcement was met with raised eyebrows from everyone who'd had no previous experience with Mr. Briscoe.

"Yes, quite right Mr. Briscoe." Ludlow acknowledged him a little skeptically. "Carry on."

"Yes sir!" Harry carried on. "I've known Heyes and Curry for over seven years now and I'm here to tell you that they have helped me out several times during those years to solve many crimes!"

"Really Mr. Briscoe." Ludlow responded, not convinced yet that this man was to be taken seriously.

"Oh yes." Harry reiterated. "Oh when I first met those boys they tried to hide their identities from me, but an experienced lawman develops an instinct about these things and it didn't take me long to get them to confess to their true identities. They knew when they were beat. Yessir! But I didn't turn them in—oh no! A good lawman knows how to take advantage of information like that and besides, I knew they were trying to go straight so I made them an offer. I wouldn't turn them in if they agreed to help me out on certain cases where their particular knowledge and abilities might come in handy. And I helped them out of a few scrapes too, so it was kind of a mutual thing. Yessir, Heyes and Curry had a great deal to do with the recovery of thousands of dollars worth of currency and gold and even in the apprehension of some murdering bank thieves as well!"

"That's very interesting Mr. Briscoe." Mr. Ludlow stated. "Are you able to produce written acknowledgement from the Bannerman agency as to the legitimacy of their assistance?"

"Well, ah no." Harry admitted hesitantly, but then quickly found his stride again. "You see that kind of information needs to be kept secret. If word had gotten out that Heyes and Curry were actually helping the Bannerman agency, well their lives wouldn't have been worth a plugged nickle. No no, that has to be kept confidential, even from the people who run the agency! That's standard procedure, gentlemen! When an agent out in the field uses informants, their identities are always kept confidential. Why, we'd never get anyone coming forward with information if we didn't guarantee that!"

"Yes, of course." Ludlow conceded. "That does make sense."

Both Jed and Steven were very impressed with how quickly Harry seemed to be able to land on his feet. It was a trait that had served him well over the years.

"Then I must put this same question to you Mr. Briscoe." Ludlow continued. "If Heyes and Curry have been so helpful to you over the years, and you felt a certain camaraderie with them why did you not come forward to testify at their trials?"

"Unfortunately I was out of the country at the time of their arrest and of Heyes' trial." Harry admitted regretfully. "Otherwise I would have been right there for him! By the time I received word of their situation Heyes was already in prison and Curry was getting ready to go to trial. I got in touch with Mr. Granger, offering to testify at Curry's trial, but he didn't seem to think it would be necessary. And as it turns out, I suppose he was right."

He stopped and sadly shook his head. "But I wish I could have been there for Heyes! He's a fine young man. And I can personally attest to the fact that they were trying to turn their lives around and that they did indeed have an agreement with the Governor's office to receive an amnesty if they could stay out of trouble. And they did!-stay outa trouble I mean.  
"No sir, Hannibal Heyes did not deserve the treatment he received from the Wyoming courts. Why he was one of the best undercover agents I've ever had the privilege to work with. He should be out here and putting his undeniable skills to work for the benefit of the law abiding citizens of this territory not wasting away in some damn prison cell, like he was a common ignorant criminal!"

"Hmm, yes Mr. Briscoe. That's very interesting." Ludlow commented while his associates were quickly scribbling down notes. "Do you have anything more to add to your statement?"

"No sir." Harry conceded. "That's everything I've got to say. I just hope that it will help my friend Hannibal Heyes to finally get the respect that he deserves."

"Thank you Mr. Briscoe."

Bridget was reflective upon hearing this testimonial. Joshua had worked as an undercover agent? One side of her felt admiration for her friend, but another part of her felt just slightly betrayed. He had been so adamant that day when she was walking with him back at the ranch and they had been discussing her desire to work for law enforcement and perhaps even, go undercover. Joshua had tried to talk her out of it and his opinion of people who could do a job like that seemed to be very low at best. Then later, his unforgiving stance against Sam for having played that undercover role so successfully had yet to be reconciled and perhaps never would be. Could Joshua be such a hypocrite that he himself was apparently a master of deception and yet on the other hand hold such a powerful grudge against someone else, simply because the deception was against him? Then Bridget recalled with a groan the fact that she was in much the same contradictory mind set as her friend. Because though she had come to forgive Sam for his transgressions she had still felt very angry and betrayed by his actions at the beginning, even though she had hitherto admired a person who would take on such a undertaking. She gave a quiet reflective sigh. More and more she was becoming to realize that Clementine was right; Hannibal Heyes was not Joshua Smith, and Bridget was having to get to know her friend all over again. Not that this was a bad thing, she already knew the basics of who Hannibal Heyes was only now she was becoming to realize just how deep that pond could go. She had to admit to feeling a tingling of excitement—the voyage of discovery—and the more complex and contradictory that voyage became, the more she was enticed into making it. She made a promise to herself then, that the next time she and Steven went for a visit she would try to spend less time talking about herself, and more time listening to Joshua. Hmm, perhaps it was time to start calling him 'Hannibal' now, after all that was his name and it was time to start getting to know him. Hopefully it wasn't too late; to finally realize what a complex and exciting personality she had at her fingertips, only to have it snatched away from her grasp by forces beyond her control. They had to get him out of that place, they just had to—before he was lost to them forever!

Bridget was brought back to reality by the scraping of Lom's chair as he stood up to begin his narrative.

"Good afternoon gentlemen of the board. I'm Lom Trevors, sheriff over at Porterville."

"Good afternoon Sheriff." Ludlow returned the greeting. "My, but Mr. Heyes certainly has an interesting array of acquaintances."

"Yes, well Mr. Heyes is a very diverse personality." Lom informed them dryly.

"Indeed. Carry on Sheriff."

"Thank you." Lom nodded. "Since I'm sure you gentlemen have already read through the transcripts from Heyes' trial I don't believe there is any need for me to go into how I came to be friends with Heyes and Curry." This statement was met with a number of agreeing nods from the board, so Lom continued. "My grievance at this point is the manner in which the governor's office reneged on the agreement for amnesty that was made between Governor Hoyt and Heyes and Curry. Even though there was nothing in writing, I know that an agreement was in place because I brokered it. The fact that a number of governors have come and gone since that brokerage is irrelevant because I approached each new governor with the details of the arrangement and each one was agreeable to accepting the terms. However there was always one unfortunate condition to each new governor and that was; that Heyes and Curry had to prove all over again that they could stay out of trouble. So, with each new governor there was more time added on to their 'trial run' and the actual amnesty seemed to become more and more unattainable.  
"Then when the inevitable actually did happen and Heyes and Curry were finally arrested and brought to trial Governor Warren chose to ignore the deal all together. It was only through public pressure and Mr. Warren's desire to appease everyone who would be voting in the next election that he relented at all and conceded to present Mr. Curry with the amnesty. "But the arrangement, gentlemen, was for both Heyes and Curry to receive amnesty, not just Jed Curry alone. Now Heyes and Curry held up their end of the agreement even though the original terms were only for one year and that one year stretched out into five. They stayed true to their goal, even to the point of assisting the governor's office with various errands and undercover operations in order to further prove their seriousness and determination to turn their lives around.  
"Now Mr Briscoe here has given his statements as to how Heyes and Curry have helped him out on a number of occasions, working undercover to help retrieve stolen funds and even to bring a murderer to justice. In the one instance where they were involved in an illegal act, Miss Hale has given a full and to my mind, a totally acceptable reason for that transgression. The governor's deal was a secret, they were still wanted by the law and if they had been arrested they risked loosing everything. "They did what they had to do to stay out of jail and other than that one incident, they stayed true to the terms of the agreement and are both deserving of the amnesty that had been promised. It was the governor's office that reneged, not Mr. Heyes and it is past time to that misdeed to be put to rights. "That concludes my statement, gentlemen and I thank you for your time."

Lom sat down again and the gentlemen of the board continued on for a few moments with their note writing and exchanging of quiet comments. Then Mr. Ludlow acknowledged that final testimonial.

"Thank you Sheriff Trevors." He said. "You bring up some interesting points. It is unfortunate that the amnesty agreement had never been put to paper since now there is nothing really to substantiate it. I realize of course that we have your word on it, and the word of a lawman of your reputation is certainly worth something and will be taken into consideration.  
"Mr. Granger are there anymore testimonies to be heard here or do you now wish to present your closing statements?"

Steven stood up. "No Mr. Ludlow, the board has heard everyone's testimonies and I am now ready to close. In the case of Hannibal Heyes, he has now served two and half years of a sentence that we feel he should never have been given in the first place. He agreed to the terms of the amnesty deal with Governor Hoyt and aside from the one transgression that has been addressed here, he stayed true to those terms and is deserving of the amnesty that had been agreed upon.  
"I was his defence attorney throughout his trial and was surprised to find him to be a very intelligent and honourable man. Far from being the sociopath that Mr. DeFord, the prosecuting attorney attempted to make him out to be, I found Mr. Heyes to actually be a very compassionate individual who cared deeply about how his actions had affected others and was genuine in his efforts to atone for. He was also extremely loyal to his friends which was a trait that he displayed quite clearly when he chose to accept a prison sentence rather than betray a confidence.  
"As Mr. Briscoe very adeptly put it; Mr. Heyes should be out here, putting his undeniable talents to use for the good of law abiding citizens of this territory and not wasting away in some prison cell like a common ignorant criminal. Hannibal Heyes is anything but common or ignorant and he has already done everything he could do to atone for his previous criminal behaviour. I cannot think of anyone who could be more repentant of his past other than Mr. Curry himself. "What happened to Mr. Heyes in the process of his trial can only be referred to as a parody of justice and needs to be rectified immediately. Two and a half years served of an undeserving sentence is far too long and I put to the gentlemen of this board that you consider issuing Mr. Heyes a full pardon and immediate release from that institution.  
"In the case of the Auburn Prison System itself, I can only reiterate what Mr. Reece has already petitioned; that people of some authority need to re-examine how the Wyoming Territorial Prison is being managed and to instigate stricter adherence to the guidelines controlling the manner of punishments used, and the level of severity allowed not only by law, but by decency. "We also put to the board that the Auburn Prison System needs to be re-examined as well. That the dictate of total silence amongst the prisoners has a severely detrimental rather than beneficial effect on long term inmates and should be abolished. Also, we put to the board that under controlled conditions, physical contact should be allowed between inmates and their friends and family. We are social creatures, gentlemen! Being deprived of those very basic needs cannot help but create emotional and psychological issues to those individuals subject to the current system.  
"As I'm sure we are all aware, Wyoming is quickly moving towards the possibility of Statehood. Governor Moonlight has shown his commitment to bringing our Territory up to the challenge of attaining that goal by hiring Marshal Morrison to clean up the outlaw bands that still tend to create havoc amongst the citizenry. The Governor has also done a lot to update many longstanding but now archaic rulings and laws and to also assist companies and small business to grow and develop thereby strengthening our territory's financial base.  
"But I believe it is also equally as important how we treat our less fortunate citizens—the elderly, the ill, the poverty stricken and our prisoners. What a feather in the cap of Wyoming as a new State to be able to show by example how to be compassionate and how to encourage the population to prosper and grow. And to be able to show a long list of released inmates of our prison system returning to 'civilian' life as completely reformed and socially adjusted citizens rather than suicidal misfits who are no longer capable of settling in and contributing to society. "With that, I conclude my closing statement Gentlemen, and we all here thank you for your time and your attention. I can only hope that we have been successful in stating our case with eloquence and conviction and have been able to enlighten you to the issues plaguing the Wyoming Territorial Prison in general and of the miscarriage of justice in the case of Hannibal Heyes in particular. Thank you."

At this point, Steven sat down again and the room awaited the next step. The gentlemen of the board conversed quietly between themselves for a few moments and then again, Mr. Ludlow turned to address the group before him.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He began. "This has indeed been a most enlightening afternoon. This hearing will now be adjourned for the day as it is getting late. Tomorrow morning I shall present the testimonials of this hearing to Governor Moonlight along with the other statements from Dr. Morin, Sister Julia and Mr. Brubaker. We will also give Governor Moonlight our recommendations at that time so that he will have all the information that we do and can then make an informed decision. This hearing will re-commence at 1:00 tomorrow afternoon at which time I will inform you of this boards decisions concerning these two matters. This hearing is now adjourned."

"What do ya' mean he's a marshal now?!" Kid was incensed. "When did that happen!?"

"About a month ago." Steven admitted. "I'm sorry, I guess I never even thought to mention it."

The group was sitting around a large table at one of the many restaurants in town, trying to relax and unwind from the stresses of that day. The sudden announcement that Morrison had been promoted to marshal however, was not helping the Kid's digestion. He turned an accusatory glare over to his friend the sheriff.

"Did you know about this Lom?" He demanded.

Lom sighed, knowing that he was in for another argument with the overly taxed ex-outlaw.

"Yeah Kid, I did know about it." Lom admitted. "And no, I didn't tell ya'. And before ya' start yellin' at me and demanding 'why', it was for the very same reasons I didn't tell ya' about the raid on Devil's Hole! It only would have made ya' mad at a time when we needed ya' to be focused and there's nothin' you could do about it anyways. And besides that, Morrison being promoted to marshal doesn't have any effect on our endeavours now. I wouldn't be surprised if he's busy getting after the rest of the Wyoming gangs. It is spring time and that does seem to be his favourite time to go hunting."

"Well what about Wheat?" Kid asked. "Morrison was determined to track him down, but I haven't heard anything." Then Kid sent Lom a suspicious glare. "Or is that one more thing that you decided not to mention?"

"No Kid." Lom assured his friend. "I'd a' told ya' if Morrison had found Carlson. The last I heard about Wheat Carlson is that he's holed up with the Cripple Creek boys, at least for the winter."

Kid groaned and Beth rolled her eyes. "I told that idiot to stay away from the other bands! That Morrison was gonna be after them and him and that he should head north or south, anywhere but here!"

"What do you mean 'you told him'?" Lom asked suspiciously. "When did you talk to Wheat Carlson?"

"Oh! Well...ahhuummm." Jed and Beth exchanged slightly guilty looks. "Wheat came up to the ranch shortly after Kyle and Lobo were incarcerated. He thought that I'd had something to do with setting up that ambush and he wanted to talk about it."

A derisive snort came from Clementine's position. "He holds your girlfriend hostage and pulls a gun on you and you say 'all he wanted to do was talk'!"

"He did WHAT?" Was Lom's next response.

Kid sent Clem a look that would have peeled the skin off of Carson. But then returned his attention back to Lom in order to defend himself.

"He was just scared Lom." Kid insisted. "I had it under control, nobody was gonna get hurt. Wheat backed off fast enough and we were able to talk it out."

"Uh huh." Was Lom's sceptical response. "And you just let him walk out? At the very least you should have let Sheriff Jacobs know that he was in the area. Like I said before; you gotta decide which side of the fence you're on Kid."

Kid looked a little sheepish, but stuck to his guns all the same. "He's still a friend Lom. I'm not gonna turn on a friend. I tried to convince him to turn himself over to Jacobs and then I could send you a telegram to come get him, thereby keeping Morrison out of it altogether. But he wasn't having any of it.  
"So then I told him his best bet was to get out of the country altogether, that if he stayed in this area then Morrison would track him down sooner or later and probably kill him. I hoped that was what he had done." Kid sighed with disappointment. "If he's up with the Cripple Creek boys, he doesn't stand a chance. Morrison is gonna track him down and then kill 'em for sure."

Again silence followed this prognosis and nobody quite knew where to look.

"You can't know that for sure Kid." Lom finally responded. "Maybe Carlson's already left those boys and is taking your advice. Maybe he's already out of the country."

"I doubt it." Kid responded. "He said he wanted to wait for Kyle and I'm willing to bet that's exactly what he's doing. That bastard, Morrison is gonna get 'em and it just irks me that he should benefit from the things that he's done. Next thing ya' know he's gonna be mayor and then—oh no!" Kid cringed as this next thought struck home. "What if he becomes governor!? Ah jeez! We gotta get Heyes outa there before that happens or he's never going to see the light of day again!"

This premonition was met by some sceptical smiles around the table.

"I highly doubt that would happen Jed." Steven assured him. "Marshal Morrison certainly has aspirations but even if the governorship was one of them it would take him years to reach that level."

"All he needs is twenty." Jed mumbled sardonically.

"Well, let's not yell until we're hit." Lom suggested. "I for one think that we have a pretty strong case here—we oughta get some good results coming out of it."

"I agree." Steven put in. "If this doesn't get some action then nothing will."

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed agreed, then he perked up a little and addressed the group. "In any case I want to thank all of you for coming forward like this and trying to help out. Especially you Kenny; you've got more on the line here than any of us."

"I couldn't just sit back and watch those abuses any longer." Kenny answered. "I just hope it makes a difference. Changes can sometimes be slow to happen, but we have to start somewhere."

Jed nodded acknowledgement. "And Harry!" He said. "I have to admit Harry, you surprised me. I didn't know what you had to say that might help but you sure came up with a good case!"

"Of course!" The Bannerman man responded. "I owe you boys a lot—no doubt about it. Glad I could help."

"You're not gonna get into any trouble with your boss over this are ya'?"

"No no!" Harry was adamant. "I didn't tell any lies! Many field agents use informants and we do keep the identity of those informants confidential. And since word of that agreement you had with the governor came out at your trials, well it just made what I did all that more legitimate. Don't worry about it Kid! Everything's fine!"

Jed smiled and nodded. "Yeah okay Harry. Thanks."

"Well I certainly hope that something positive comes from all this!" Clementine piped up from across the table. "I'm ashamed enough about what I did without having to stand up and admit to it in front of a bunch of official looking men with white whiskers!"

"Yes!" Beth and Bridget both rounded on their friend.

"How could you have done that?" Bridget demanded.

"I thought you were their friends!" Beth added with an accusing tone.

Clementine rolled her eyes with a dejected sigh. She was never going to live that incident down. But then Jed came to her rescue.

"Ladies, ladies don't be so hard on her." He reprimanded them. "Clem's sorry for it and has done everything she could to make it up. We did tell her to stay away if we ever went to trial, and we did prevent her from testifying when she did show up, so—cut her some slack, okay?"

The two sisters looked repentant.

"Alright."

"Sorry Clementine."

By 8:00 the supper had finally started to wind down and everybody went their somewhat separate ways. It was still a wet and chilly night so no one felt like spending time out on the town and besides, they were all pretty tired after their stressful day. Hotel rooms all around seemed to be next on the agenda for the ladies and though the men headed over to the saloon for a relaxing beer, they were not too far behind in calling it a night.  
The next morning dawned chilly and gray again, but at least it had stopped raining—for now. Everyone met up for breakfast and though the coffee tasted real good, appetites were at a low ebb.

"How are your youngsters doing Kenny?" Jed asked, just to make conversation.

Kenny smiled. "They're fine." He answered. "The boys still want you to come by and show them your fast draw and Eve already has the wedding plans finalized."

Everybody glanced over at that comment and Beth's eyebrows went up. "Who's Eve and what wedding plans?"

Jed smiled and gave Beth a kiss on her hand. "Evelyn is Kenny's youngest who thinks that she's in love with me and has apparently decided that I'm going to marry her."

"Really?" Was Beth's response.

Kenny nodded. "She's quite adamant."

"Well, I'm afraid she's going to have to get in line." Beth commented. "This man is already taken."

"Oh, I donno Beth." Jed speculated. "Just 'cause we're courtin', well that don't mean a man can't still be checking out his other options. Evelyn's a real pretty little..."

"Don't you dare!" Beth teased him with a punch to his arm. "Besides I'm sure she's much too young for you!"

"Ho ho! There's the pot calling the kettle black!" Jed accused her with a laugh. "I seem to recall you having a lot of arguments supporting May-December matches."

"That's different!"

"I'll say!" Kenny interjected with a laugh. "You have nothing to worry about Miss Jordan, my Evelyn is not even ten years old yet. Still, if she had another six years on her you might have been in for some competition there."

Beth smiled. "I'm sure she's a real sweetheart. I'd love to meet her sometime."

Kenny nodded. "We'll see what we can arrange." He offered. "She might be a little jealous of you though so watch out!"

"Nothing like being surrounded by admirers to make a man feel special." Jed observed with a grin.

"Oh please!" Came the sardonic comment from Clem. "I swear! You men and your egos!"

"Ho ho!" Jed laughed again as his eyebrows shot up. "Listen to you! If you don't have at least three fellas following you around you think you're having an off day!"

"Well what's wrong with that?" Clem demanded with a pout. "A lady's got to have some pleasures in life. Mine just happen to be men!"

"Uh huh."

And so the bantering carried on for most of that morning, everyone taking it all in stride and knowing that it was just a way to ease the tension and settle the nerves. Still, it seemed to take forever for 1:00 to finally roll around and by 12:30 everyone's nerves were on edge again. Having to take the time to get dressed once again into their business suits did help to make the last hour to go by faster and by the time everyone got organized and were waiting in the hallway for the hearing to re-commence it seemed that they had actually been rushed to get there on time. At 12:55 the doors to their chamber room were opened and the group made their way inside and everyone all sat down at the same places they had been in the day before. They waited nervously for the board members to arrive and get settled themselves and then amongst subtle coughing and needless paper shuffling, the meeting got underway.

"Ladies and gentlemen." Mr. Ludlow acknowledged them all. "Glad to see that you could all make it back. Let's get started shall we?  
"In the matter of the Auburn Prison System and the effectiveness of its ability to rehabilitate the criminal element we would have to question the very reasons for incarceration in the first place. Do we send our criminals to prison to be rehabilitated or to be punished? I'm afraid that is a question that has been debated endlessly by far more informed individuals than those of us gathered here today. As it stands now the Auburn system has been very effective in controlling the criminal element and we see no reason to make changes to that system on the whole. "However, in the more specific case of the Wyoming Territorial Prison there would appear to be evidence of some misuse of power by those in authority. The best system in the world cannot be expected to work successfully if the people within it do not adhere to the guidelines laid down by it. Therefore it has been agreed that an inspection of the prison and its contingent of employees, including the warden will be undertaken and that any misuse of authority will be rectified. As for the specific case of Hannibal Heyes, it was very difficult for the members of this board to come to any conclusive decisions either way. There is no doubt that Mr. Heyes is guilty of his crimes. Even though the numerous testimonies given here would support the claim that there was a provisional amnesty offered to Mr. Heyes, there is no actual proof that this was the case.  
"Now it has been suggested that since Mr. Curry did received an amnesty that this should support the legitimacy of the claim that both were offered it and therefore both should receive it. However, the members of this board tend to view this supposition from the other side. That the crimes committed by Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry were deserving of prison time and that far from crying 'foul play', Mr. Curry should be thanking his lucky stars that he escaped the fate that befell his partner.  
"Now having said that, this board is in agreement that the sentence handed down to Mr. Heyes does seem to be a bit extreme. Twenty years to life on a non-murder charge is unsubstantiated and will be rectified. It is in agreement between Governor Moonlight and the members of this board that Mr. Heyes will not be granted a pardon since there is no doubt as to his guilt. He will therefore continue to serve out his adjusted sentence of ten to twenty years. At the end of ten years, including time served Mr. Heyes will then be eligible for a conditional parole with the conditions of that parole to be laid down at the time of his release.  
"This is not a guarantee that Mr. Heyes will receive a parole at the end of ten years, only that he will be taken into consideration for one. His success or failure in attaining it will depend on his behaviour while incarcerated and on the opinions of the prison officials as to the chances of his success of re-entering society as a free man. "This concludes our hearing ladies and gentlemen and I want to thank you for your patience and your obvious commitment to these issues. Good day."

The members of the board did not waste any time gathering up their pointless paperwork and making a hasty retreat out the back door. The members of the panel sat in shocked silence, nobody moving while the reality of the words gradually soaked in. Eventually big sighs could be heard and people began to shift in their chairs and make eye contact with one another. Disappointed head shaking seemed to be the most prominent activity for the moment.

"Well, that could have gone better." Steven finally understated.

"At least we got something out of it!" Stated Harry, trying to be the optimist. "They're going to send in some people to check up on how things are being run. That should make a difference, shouldn't it?"

"Yeah, for a while." Jed mumbled. "But they won't be at the prison forever and once they're gone, Mitchell will just go right back to how he was doing things in the first place."

"We may have just made Heyes' life worse not better." Clem commented sadly. "Is he even going to be able to survive another seven years in there?"

Silence. Nobody even wanted to answer that one. Jed and Kenny exchanged disappointed looks.

"Do you want to tell him, or shall I?" Kenny asked.

"No, I'll tell him." Jed said. "I'm his partner."

"But I'm his lawyer." Steven pointed out. "It falls to me to give him the bad news. You can come with me if you want to Jed."

Jed nodded and silently mouthed the word; 'yeah'.

Heyes lay on his back on his cot looking up at a ceiling that was closing in on top of him. He felt crushed, as though he were suffocating even though he continued to draw oxygen into his lungs. That hearing was his last chance, his last hope. What now? What next? Oh Steven had tried to be optimistic; Moonlight couldn't stay in office forever after all. There was a presidential election coming up—a new president could mean a new governor, perhaps one who was more sympathetic to their plight. Just hang in there, we're not giving up! Throughout that whole meeting with Mr. Granger, Hannibal and Jed had locked eyes and did not let go. It seemed to be all that held them together, that invisible but tangible bridge of blue into brown. Steven's words didn't even exist in their private world—only the cousins existed. The cousins and their combined aura of disappointment.  
Jed had found it very difficult to leave after that meeting as he was filled with a dreading premonition that his cousin might try to do something stupid. He had asked for assurance that Heyes was not contemplating anything along those lines and had received it, but Heyes had answered as though in a daze and Jed didn't really believe him. Still, there was nothing he could do except to try and trust his partner—and maybe one other thing. When Steven and Jed returned to Laramie they ended up carrying on through and rode out to the convent to have a word with Sister Julia.

"Sister Julia!" Jed flagged the Sister down as they entered the main foyer to the orphanage.

"Oh, Thaddeus!" She greeted him. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Sister, this is Steven Granger." Jed introduced him. "He's Beth's brother-in-law and also Heyes' lawyer. Steven, this is Sister Julia."

"Good afternoon Sister. "Steven greeted her. "I have certainly heard a lot about you ma'am."

"All good I hope." The Sister hinted with a smile.

"Of course."

"So, what can I do for you Thaddeus." Sister Julia asked him. "How did the hearing go?"

"Not as well as we'd hoped Sister." Jed admitted. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk to ya' about."

"Oh dear." She empathized. "Come, there's a sofa in the front room, let's go sit."

The three of them made their way into the front room and settled down to talk for a few moments.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Well, the board agreed to look into the accusations of abuse, but did not agree to an investigation into the prison system itself." Steven explained. "And though they were willing to make some changes to Mr. Heyes' sentence it wasn't what we were hoping for."

"That's for sure." Jed grumbled.

The Sister smiled and put a consoling hand on Jed's arm.

"Is it that bad?" She asked.

"The board and the governor would not grant him an all out pardon." Steven continued. "They did shorten his sentence to twenty years with eligibility for parole after ten, including time already served."

"Well that's better than life, isn't it Thaddeus?" The Sister was trying to be optimistic.

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed reluctantly agreed. "It's just that Heyes was really disappointed. I'm afraid of what he might do."

The Sister nodded her understanding. "Yes, I see." She said. "You want me to keep an extra close eye on him over the next little while, is that it?"

"If you don't mind Sister." Jed told her. "I know Kenny will be watching him, and Dr, Slosson will be doing everything that she can to keep him motivated. But if I knew that you were keeping an eye on him as well then maybe I'll actually be able to sleep at night."

"Of course Thaddeus." She assured him. "You know that I will."

"Thank you."

Back at the prison, Heyes had continued to lay on his cot, looking up into his own mind's eye. He really didn't know what he was going to do now. Even though he hadn't expected a miracle the reality of what had come back to him was enough to send him into a spiral—even if it was just a temporary one. He'd give himself time to get over the disappointment and then reconsider his options. He had seven years after all, no need to be hasty in his decisions.  
Then he heard a soft discreet cough coming from the door to his cell. He glanced up to see Kyle standing there, once again presenting two cups of coffee and an expectant smile. Heyes grinned back and motioned him in. Sitting up he grabbed the tin of cookies from under his table and pulled out his handy deck of cards. Kyle sat down on the cot and the two friends spent the rest of the afternoon quietly socializing over coffee, cookies and cards.

To Be Continued


	29. Chapter 29

Hopeless

"You named him what?"

"Gov."

"Gov?"

"Yeah. Short for Governor."

"I know what it's short for Kid, I just don't get why you named him that."

"I donno." Curry shrugged. "I guess I was just thinkin' that if I named him that, then it might bring us some luck where the governor's are concerned. Maybe we'll get one in office that will actually be on our side."

"Hmm, maybe." Heyes was very non-committal. "Don't count on it."

"What do ya' mean 'don't count on it'? We gotta do something Heyes—this isn't over yet."

"It isn't?"

"NO! Of course it isn't! What kinda talk is that?!"

"Realistic kind?"

The two partners sat and stared at each other for a moment.

"You're not giving up on us, are ya' Heyes?"

"Well...I know you're trying Kid. I know all of you are but where else can we go? The hearing was our last real chance and well, I guess it did help some, but...and I appreciate what all of you went through to get there. I know some of you put an awful lot on the line in order to be there and I really do appreciate that, but...I just don't see where else we can go."

"Yeah, I know. But like Steven says; there is a presidential election coming early in the new year. A new president could mean a new governor for Wyoming, so just..."

"Hang on?"

Kid sighed. "What else is there?"

"Nothing."

"Heyes that's not what I meant. Ya' gotta hold on to something and for right now, that's it. It's something, right? The hearing did lighten your sentence and there's going to be an investigation into the accusations of abuse so Mitchell will be held accountable. It's not all bad Heyes."

"Hmm. Probably just make him mad." Heyes gave a big sigh and decided to change the subject. "Besides, shouldn't you be getting on with your life Kid? You've got a real special lady out there just waiting to have your babies, don't you think it's time you made her a happy woman?"

Kid gave him an exasperated look. Prison life seemed to have robbed his cousin of the ability to be tactful.

"I already told ya' Heyes, if and when we do get married, it's gonna be with you there as my best man."

"Aww Kid, c'mon! Bridget said the same thing! She wanted to wait until I was released so that I could be at their wedding. It's all very nice and I do appreciate the sentiment, but it's not very practical. Fortunately she listened to me and went ahead with their wedding and now they're both pleased as punch and staying true to the cause as well. No reason why you and Beth can't do the same.

"Get married Kid. Don't wait for me. I won't be insulted. I want you to get married, start a family, get on with your life. I know you'll still be there for me, I know you're not gonna give up even if I do. You're just too damn stubborn! But in the mean time, I just feel like I'm getting in your way—that I'm preventing you from moving forward. That's not right—that's not right at all."

Throughout this lecture, Kid's jawline was getting tighter and tighter and the aforementioned stubborn streak was taking a firm hold.

"NO! I already told ya' Heyes! Beth and I discussed this and we are waiting until you get released—and that's the final word on that. Don't even bother bringing it up again!"

Heyes sat back, looking a little hurt.

"Jeez, you've gotten awfully masterful since you've had a chance to become your own man. Don't need a partner around anymore do ya'? Don't need your older cousin hanging around, watching your back."

"GODDAMMIT HEYES! Jeez you piss me off sometimes! What the hell kinda talk is that!? You sound like you've just given up, like you're not even gonna try anymore!"

Then it was Kid's turn to sit back. He ran both his hands through his curls, which spoke of serious stress issues but then he took a deep breath and started to calm down. He glanced again at his cousin and Heyes was just sitting there, his eyes fixed on his own shackled hands and he was looking dejected, depressed—hopeless. Instantly Kid felt bad about having yelled at him and tried to back step a little bit.

"I know...you've had a hard time lately Heyes, what with Devil's Hole and then Lobo getting killed and...what happened after that."

"Yeah."

"I can't even imagine what that must have been like."

"No."

"Ya' still going to services?"

Non-committal shrug.

"Had much of a chance to talk with Sister Julia?"

"Yeah, some."

"Well, ya' haven't written to David in quite a while. I know ya' like him and he's been asking after you. Why don't ya' drop him a line?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon Heyes! Don't do this to me. How the hell am I supposed to turn around and head for home knowing that I'm leaving you in this kind of mood? C'mon!"

Heyes took a deep breath and then smiled up at his cousin.

"Yeah Kid, you're right. I'm sorry. How's Karma doing?"

Kid smiled back at him. "Good Heyes. She sure is getting heavy again. Another month or so and we'll know if we're right. Colt or filly!"

"Yeah. Well that's worth hanging around for isn't it."

"Yeah it is. And Daisy sure is growing! She's a typical yearling now—all legs and attitude!"

"Owww, Karma would not appreciate you calling her daughter 'typical'."

"Yeah well. Sam's been working with her with a halter, you know teaching her ground manners and all that stuff. Boy! She sure gives him a hard time about it!" Jed laughed. "Then Beth comes along and that filly just follows her around like a dog—drives Sam nuts! Ohhh! That reminds me..."

Heyes perked up, his eyebrows asking the question.

"We got us a new hound dog out at the ranch now." Jed laughed again as he remembered the antics of the new canine. "She's about four months old and all big paws and craziness. It's all the two little dogs can do just to stay out from underneath her! I can't count how many times she's trip over them in her exuberance and then come crashing down in a heap of puppy wiggles and indignant yapping. Just wait until ya' meet her Heyes—what a hoot!"

Heyes grinned, a sparkle coming back to his eye. "Yeah, sounds like a circus."

"Yeah. And Jay's getting big now too. He's talking real good and even rides Buck all by himself. He's getting to be quite the little man."

"Hmm. Buck doesn't mind that?"

Kid shook his head. "Naw. I think he kinda likes the attention. And it's not like he's having to work hard. It's just around in the barnyard now mostly. Maybe later this summer we'll take Jay up to the north pasture to see the calves. He oughta enjoy that. And it shouldn't be too hard on Buck either."

"Sounds good Kid."

"Okay fellas, sorry." Pearson broke in on their conversation. "Time to wrap it up. It's actually a bit over time, so..."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks. Take it easy Heyes, alright? I'll see ya' next month."

"Sure thing Kid. Say 'hello' to everyone back home."

"Yeah I will. And write to David, I know he'd like to hear from you."

Heyes grinned. "Yeah, I will. Good idea."

The cousins parted company yet again and Pearson led Heyes through the inner door and back to the 'pat down' room in order to remove the wrist and ankle cuffs that were still the normal attire for receiving company.

Pearson noticed instantly the change in Heyes' demeanour as soon as the door to the visitor's room closed behind them. The smile left Heyes' face and the sparkle died in his eyes. He stood placidly, totally subdued and stared at a spot on the floor. He moved when Pearson asked him to move, stood still when Pearson asked him to stand and began walking forward when Pearson indicated that it was time for them to leave.

The guard could have left Heyes as soon as they returned to the prison proper, but he didn't. He didn't like the look in Heyes' eye, not one little bit and he wanted to be sure that the inmate got to wherever he was going without incident. Heyes ignored him and even though it was a pleasant spring day outside, the inmate simply returned to his cell, lay down on his cot and commenced to stare at the ceiling.

Pearson stood outside the cell door for a few moments, watching the convict and did not get any response or even acknowledgement from the man lying on the cot. Then Pearson sighed and pushing himself away from the cell turned and went in search of Mr. Reece.

Warden Mitchell sat at his desk and re-read the letter that he had received from Governor Moonlight. He was not a happy man.

_George;_

_Well this is a fine pickle you've gotten us into—and just in time for the elections too! I know I said that you could have free reign when it came to handling your prisoners and your prison, but strappado George?! I thought you had more common sense than that! What's wrong with a good old fashion lashing? Worked wonders during the war and can't see any reason why it shouldn't work now._

_I've even got that blow-hard of a Texas rancher on my case—still! I'm almost tempted to send you a copy of the letter he wrote to me about this most recent incident. It's pages long, God Dammit! He's even threatening to bring the Texas governor in on this case and really start being a thorn in my side! What is it with Texan's—they think they run the whole bloody country!_

_Now my hands are tied, with that dang-blasted hearing and all those self-righteous 'officials' looking at me and wagging their heads! I have no choice but to bow to their decree and send in a committee to take a look at how you are running things over there!_

_Just show them around George—no need to go into details. They'll just take a look, talk to a couple of guards and maybe an inmate or two, just make sure they don't talk to that Heyes bastard! It's him and his cohorts who are responsible for this you know! Never would have thought that an outlaw could have so much power from inside a prison Goddammit!_

_One of your more senior guards, Ken Reece was there at the hearing as well, along with some written testimonials from your prison doctor so I'd be keeping an eye on those two if I were you! Might even be better if you found a way to get rid of them altogether. Going on about unwarranted abuses etc.! Damn, Mr. Reece even had the audacity to suggest that the whole Auburn Prison system needed to be examined and adjusted to fit 'modern' times! Seems to be working fine as far as I'm concerned!_

_Anyway, sorry for the inconvenience George but like I said, my hands are tied and there is an election coming up so I have to keep these people happy. Just watch your back and be careful—and back off of the hard core stuff just for now, okay? Once the committee gets their snoot full and leave then you can do whatever you want so long as it gets the job done and I don't hear about it!_

_T Moonlight._

Mitchell ground his teeth and scrunched the letter up into a seething ball. That backstabbing bastard! First he says you have free reign to run the prison anyway you deem fit and now after a little bit of pressure from the bleeding hearts, he's running to his corner to hide! Close to an election, my ass! What a hypocrite!

And that Reece and Morin! What a surprise that they'd be involved in all this! Mitchell was going to have to do something about those two, but what? It couldn't be too obvious, right after the hearing and all. It would look awfully suspicious if two of the main antagonists of the system suddenly got fired from their jobs. No, that wouldn't do at all. It would just make Mitchell look all that more guilty of wrong doing and he wasn't guilty of anything other than running a prison the way it needed to be run!

Those people on the outside had no idea what it was like trying to keep order in this place. Thank goodness for people like Carson and now Thompson too; they knew how to do things around here. You can't mess around with these convicts! They're hard, vicious people who only respected hard and vicious treatment. They'd run totally amok if people like Reece were running the show!

Oh well, what's done is done. He would just have to do what the Governor suggested and play the toadie to those officials when they arrived. It would be nice to have a heads up as to when they were coming—give him time to make sure that Heyes and Reece and Morin were out of the way. Mitchell cringed. All he'd need was for Heyes to get mouthing off—that particular convict is more trouble than he's worth!

Hmmmm...what to do...what to do. This conundrum was going to take some thinking.

Heyes was in the dark cell. He lived in the dark cell. He never got out of the dark cell. He was cold and it was damp. He hugged his knees to his chest, shivering against the darkness. Jenny was calling out to him but he tried to shut her out, knowing that it was just a dream, knowing that she was long in her grave and had no power over him, but she still came to haunt him when his resistance was at a low ebb—like now.

Then suddenly the darkness began to fade back to a steel gray and he wasn't in the dark cell anymore, he was in the concrete room full of ropes and hoists and pain. He felt a scream strangle his throat and he tried to back out of the room—he needed to get out! But then he backed in to someone and spinning around he came face to face with Carson and the guard was laughing at him.

"What's the matter Heyes? Don't ya' wanna play anymore?"

"NO! Please! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please don't hurt me! Please!"

Carson laughed and grabbed his arm. Heyes fought against him—tossing and turning and trying to pull away but Carson had him in a vice and Heyes couldn't get loose. Then Carson was standing over by the far wall, and continuing to laugh at him and Heyes pleaded for mercy but the guard wasn't listening—he didn't care.

And Heyes' wrists were tied with ropes and his arms were being pulled out to the side and he fought and pleaded and tried to get away, but the ropes tightened and continued to pull and he could feel the muscles tearing. He screamed just as much in terror as in pain as the ropes pulled him apart and he could feel his tendons being pulled away and stretched beyond endurance and finally snapping. His skin tore apart and he could feel the joints dislocating as his arms were ripped from his body.

He screamed and screamed and screamed...

"HEYES! Wake up! Goddammit! You're gonna get the whole prison in an uproar! WAKE UP!"

Heyes jumped awake! It was dark, except for the low lantern light in the isle way—it was night time. Heyes lay on his cot, gasping for air, his blood pounding in his ears. It was a warm night, but he was bathed in a cold sweat and he was shivering, his teeth chattering with fear and the cold.

"Dammit Heyes." He heard Davis complaining on the other side of his cell door. "If you're gonna go mad do it in silence will ya'?" And the lantern and the footsteps moved on.

Heyes lay gasping in the semi-darkness, fear still holding him in its grip. He grabbed his blanket, and wrapping it around him he pushed himself into the corner of the wall and hugged his knees. He continued to shiver for some time while the numbness in his extremities slowly began to dissipate. His breathing continued to be ragged as he rubbed his eyes and held his head, trying to calm himself down.

He was going mad, he could feel it—the loss of control. He didn't even know who he was anymore! Everything that he thought he was was being challenged—everything that he had always thought to be the truth was being questioned. He had nothing left to hold on to; nothing to believe in, nothing to hope for. He held his head in his hands and would have wept if he could have remembered how to.

He sat like that for a long time. Holding himself, protecting himself within a ball of his own making until he finally fell back to sleep, still pushed into the corner of his cell—his back to the wall.

Jed Curry trotted his young horse down the lane towards the Double J. It was a warm spring day and everything was coming up green and fresh—new life was everywhere. He smiled as he glanced into the pasture on the right side of the lane and looked over at the ever-increasing herd that inhabited it.

When he and Heyes had first come to the ranch it had been set aside just for Karma and Buck. Now those two still occupied the greenery, but Daisy and Spade, along with his dam, Molly and Monty and Spike were also part of the group, along with Gov when Kid wasn't in need of him.

Kid's grin increased as he looked over at the two brood mares, both looking large and uncomfortable with their current pregnancies. They were keeping one another company under one of the willow trees, standing beside each other nose to tail and each swishing flies away from the others face. It was a lazy scene for sure and Gov looked over at them, obviously longing to join in on the group grazing. Jed gave him a pat on the neck.

"Patience young man." He spoke softly. "You'll soon be out there with them."

They jogged on in to the yard, Gov dancing a little bit as the two dogs and one large puppy came bouncing and barking out to greet them. Jed manoeuvred his horse around the canines and headed him over to the first barn to get him untacked and then settled out in the pasture for the rest of the afternoon.

That done, he strolled over towards the house and then noticed Belle sitting on the porch steps playing with Jay until that youngster noticed his Uncle Thaddeus and came to greet him on the run.

"Hey there Mr. Jay!" Jed greeted him. "How are you day?"

"Good!" Jay insisted as he grabbed Jed's hand and began pulling him towards the porch as though that wasn't where his uncle was headed in the first place. "C'mon! We're playin' a game called x's and o's!"

"Really? Well that sounds interesting." Came the non-committal response. Jed could see that Belle was a little melancholy and his focus was instantly on her rather than on the three-year old boy trying to get his attention. "Belle, is something wrong?"

Belle looked up. "Oh, Thaddeus." She greeted him with a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't really notice you."

"Uh huh." Jed came and sat down beside her on the step. Jay sensed that things were moving towards an 'adult' talk and he settled in to play x's and o's on his own. "What's wrong?"

"Oh well." Belle watched her son playing with a wistful expression on her face. "David was by earlier. It seems that Maribelle has lost her baby again."

"Oh." Jed mumbled.

A tear rolled down Belle's cheek and Jed put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

"This is silly." She said as she impatiently brushed the tear away.

"No it's not." Jed assured her. "You more than any of us know what that loss means, and what Sam and Maribelle are going through."

"Yes, I suppose." And she absently reached out and brushed a lock of white blond hair from her son's eyes. Jay giggled up at her and then went back to his serious play. "It just reminds me how precious our children are. And I thank God everyday for the ones that I have."

Jed tightened his hug and the two friends sat in silence for a few moments. Jed felt a little out of place, comforting his friend about something that should have been more of a woman's issue. But he did feel badly for Sam and Maribelle. He knew how much they wanted a family and how hopeful they had been.

"They can try again, can't they?" Jed asked softly. "They're still young."

"No." Belle answered sadly. "Maribelle had a very hard time of it—worse than the last one. David nearly lost her. He doesn't think she'll be able to get pregnant again and probably for the best, I suppose, since she really shouldn't go through this a third time. Still, it's so sad. They wanted a family so badly."

"Oh. Yeah."

Then Jed got hit with an idea that came to him completely out of the blue. He tensed up as one often does when they know that they've been hit with an epiphany.

"What?" Belle asked.

"Well, I just had a thought."

"Don't keep me in suspense, Thaddeus. What is it?"

"Well, I've been to the orphanage in Laramie a couple of times now." Jed commented. "And, you know; there are a lot of kids there who would love to have parents of their own. Maybe it's not the right time to mention it to Sam, kinda early I suppose, but...maybe. Give them time to get over this and maybe they'd be open to it."

"Adopting?" Belle asked, suddenly interested.

"Yeah. I mean, why not?" Jed questioned. "I mean, Sam and Maribelle really want a family and those kids really want parents of their own. Why not?"

Belle was brightening up as the possibility of it took hold of her. "That's a wonderful idea Thaddeus. What would they have to do to arrange it?"

"I donno." Jed admitted. "The next time I'm out there I could ask Sister Julia about it. Maybe Sam and Maribelle could come with me later in the summer and meet with the Sisters and the kids and see if any of them would fit."

Belle smiled and patted Jed's knee.

"Thank you Thaddeus." She said. "You've offered them some hope here. I can't see any reason why they wouldn't want to do this. It's a wonderful idea."

Jed smiled.

Wheat Carlson was fed up with trying to convince Harry Barton to be careful of any job that came their way that seemed too good to be true—because it probably was! Wheat had indeed gone up and wintered with the Cripple Creek boys. He had no intentions of staying there permanent since having been the leader of his own gang, trying to take orders again just wasn't setting well with him.

Besides that, he wasn't all that much of an idiot and he knew that Kid had been right. There was no place in Wyoming that was safe for him now, actually there was no place in Wyoming that was safe for any outlaw now that 'Marshall' Morrison was on the hunt. But then knowing that, he still made his way back into that territory after leaving the Double J ranch mainly because he had no where else to go.

He did it smart though; he stayed out of the larger towns and only went in to the smaller ones when he needed supplies, buying when he could and stealing when he had to. Fortunately he knew all the back trails that 'law-biding' folks had no clue about, the ones that only outlaws and old Indians had any idea that they were there and where they led to. So he made it.

Cripple Creek had been happy to take him in. Everyone had heard about what had happened with Devil's Hole and were sympathetic to the ex-leader's plight. On top of that George Carmon, the only other member of that ill-fated gang to get away had also run to Cripple Creek looking for a safe haven to call home. He had been very descriptive of the events that had decimated Devil's Hole in as far as he knew them and everyone had listened in awed silence.

Unfortunately they were all in denial as to their own situation. Why would lawmen like that bother coming after the Cripple Creek boys? They were just small time bandits after all and everyone knew that Devil's Hole had been the most successful outlaw band in the history of the territory—of course nobody added; especially when Heyes had been running things (too bad about Heyes, by the way.). Even outlaws know when to be discreet—well, most of em anyways.

Wheat spent all of that winter trying to tell those boys about what was gonna be waiting for them come spring and how they'd better be careful. He'd even sit with Harry Barton up in the leader's cabin over a bottle of old corn whiskey and try to convince him of the danger they were in. But it was to no avail. Nobody believed him, or maybe they just didn't want to believe him because if that was true then nobody was gonna be safe anywhere.

Wheat commented that that was exactly the point he had been trying to make. But the boys would just laugh, albeit nervously and go back to their poker game.

So, when spring finally did put in an appearance after an extremely long and hard winter, Wheat bundled up his meagre belongings and made preparations to depart. He had no intentions of going through another ambush like the last one and he was gonna head west—as far west as he could go, maybe even to the coast. Surely Morrison wouldn't follow him all the way to the west coast, I mean really!

The boys all laughed at him. They told him he was a fool for leaving a fine hideout like Cripple Creek, sure it wasn't quite as lucrative as Devil's Hole but it was a living and they did alright. They told him he was over reacting, jumping at shadows, seeing problems that weren't there. And what about Kyle? They'd all say. Wasn't Kyle his partner? Wasn't Wheat gonna wait for him? What kinda partner was Wheat that he could just run away and leave his buddy stranded? Where's the loyalty in that?

But Wheat would just smile and shake his head.

"Don't you go worryin' about Kyle." He'd say. "We got our arrangements. You boys should be worryin' about yourselves." And then added as he mounted up on his horse. "I'll be seein' you boys—if-en you don't hang around too long."

They all laughed, humorously and saw him on his way, thinking what a fool he was for headin' out on a long trek like that when there was still snow on the ground. Wheat was never gonna be seein' any one of those boys again.

Two weeks later as Wheat was approaching the Wyoming/Idaho border he took the chance of stopping in a small spit in the dirt little town to replenish his supplies and try to get a hot meal and a warm bed for a change. He put his horse up in the livery and then checked himself into the hotel. The clerk gave him a bit of a look and suggested that perhaps the gentleman would like a bath sent up.

To that clerk's relief, Wheat agreed. He was hungry but he also knew the effects of two weeks on the trail would have on the olfactory senses of the other cafe patrons. He didn't want to be calling attention to himself, and that last little heist he'd pulled had netted him $50.00 so he was well heeled for the time being. Might as well take advantage.

He had to admit, that bath felt real good! He hadn't realized how stiff and sore his muscles had become or how cold his feet had been until he got the chance to soak them in some hot water for a time. Now he was feeling like a super star! He'd even spent .50 to have his cloths laundered and patched up and he was quite content to stay soaking in that tub until the clerk returned his attire to his room.

Yessir, by the time Wheat had soaked, shaved and re-donned his newly laundered clothing he was looking and feeling like a new man. He headed over to the cafe secure in the knowledge that no one was gonna be looking at him twice and he settled in to a small table in the corner and ordered the first square meal he'd had since leaving Cripple Creek.

Venison steak with all the fixin's,two portions of apple pie and all the strong coffee he could drink went down real well. He was just settling in to his final cup of coffee before heading over to the saloon for a real drink when he noticed an old newspaper setting on the table next to him.

Now, if he'd been paying attention to the series, he'd had realized that no good news comes from a newspaper and that simply picking one up to casually brows through always led to trouble. It didn't take long either. Right on the front page and in big bold letters that even Kyle couldn't have missed even though he couldn't read, was the headline that sent a shiver down Wheat's spine and caused him to seriously consider changing his plans.

** MORRISON PUTS AN END TO CRIPPLE CREEK **

ANOTHER OUTLAW GANG BITS THE DUST!

Wheat's jaw tightened as he settled in to read the story that by the date on the paper was already one week old. Sure enough those idiots had ignored Wheat's warnings to them and had jumped at the first hint of a nice fat payroll delivery coming through their territory by stagecoach. What a surprise that the coach had been minus a payroll, but full to the brim with lawmen and rifles! Not to mention the whole posse of badges that had come charging out from cover as soon as the shooting had started and had trapped the outlaws in the deadly cross-fire!

Wheat cursed under his breath while reading the grisly details, causing the two ladies over at another table to send him disapproving glances from over their tea cups. Wheat practically snarled at them, but then realized he'd better behave himself if he didn't want to call attention, and went back to reading the paper—quietly.

Just like with Devil's Hole, the assault on Cripple Creek had been two fold. The first attack hitting the outlaws in an ambush, using the hefty payroll as bait and then the second attack infiltrating the hold out itself and taking out the few gang members who had stayed behind to guard it. The majority of the outlaws had been killed outright. Three had been wounded and taken prisoner, but one was not expected to pull through while the other two would of course be joining Hannibal Heyes and Kyle Murtry at the Wyoming Territorial Prison.

Amongst the dead was the leader, Harry Barton and ex-Devil's Hole member, George Carmon, making Wheat Carlson the only outlaw to have come up against Tom Morrison—twice and had managed to escape capture and still be alive! Wheat continued to read further and the more he read, the less he liked it—especially when it started to become personal...

"_**...when asked about Wheat Carlson, the Marshall had noticeable bristled and then assured this reporter that he wasn't done with Carlson yet.**_

"_**I have no intentions of allowing Carlson to escape justice." The Marshall stated. "He might like to think that I'm going to just let him go—that I have bigger fish to fry, but he is sadly mistaken in that assumption. Wheat Carlson was the leader of the Devil's Hole gang and I fully intend to bring him down. He can run but he can't hide, as the saying goes. He's running out of places to hide and sooner or later I'm gonna get him and that's a promise!"**_

Now it was time for Wheat Carlson to bristle. This was getting to be too much! Was he supposed to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, waiting for the bullet in the back that Morrison was promising him? No man could live like that, and no outlaw worth his salt would put up with it!

Wheat snarled to himself and crunched up the paper in his hands. The two ladies over at the other table tisked and then quickly got up and made their way out the door. It would seem that no place was suitable for the more cultured citizens of this spot in the dirt called a town.

Wheat watched them leave without really seeing them—he had other things on his mind. Finally he got up, paid his bill and headed over to the saloon for a whiskey or two. He needed to think and there was no place better for that than elbow up to a bar with a shot glass for company and nobody to bother him. By the time he headed back to his hotel room for the night, come hell or high water, he knew what he had to do and knowing that, he slept well.

It was a warm and sunny day in late spring when Heyes and the Kid came to have anther visit with the orphan children. Heyes was doing his best to be upbeat and what with his natural profound ability to pull the wool over a person's eyes, he was able to fool just about everyone. He was not fooling the Kid however and nor was he fooling young Sally who seemed to already have a natural affinity towards the infamous convict.

Most of the chatter during this visit had revolved around the previous Christmas and how everyone had to buckle in and accept the confinements that the bad weather had dictated. But they also got going about what gifts they had received and how they had all still managed to have a nice supper and did Mr. Heyes have a nice Christmas too?

Heyes had just smiled and made some non-committal comments and Kid rolled his eyes and wished that his cousin would pull himself out of this slump that he was in. Then the next topic of conversation did tweak Heyes' attention and brought up his interest level an honest notch or two.

One of the older boys, Michael took advantage of a lull in the conversation and spoke up with some news of his own.

"Me and Henry are going to be leaving here next month." He informed the visitors. "So we probably won't be here the next time you come for a visit."

"Oh?" Heyes sat up a bit straighter. "Have you been offered something?"

"Yeah." Michael stated. "Mr. Jackson, who owns the Two Blazes ranch just north of town here, well he needs a couple of wranglers to help with the livestock and he figures that me and Henry will do just fine."

"Yeah!" Henry piped up. "I know it'll be hard work, but I love being around the horses and we're gonna have a place to live and get paid to boot! It'll be great!"

Heyes and Kid exchanged knowing smiles. It'll be hard work alright.

"Well now that's real good." Kid complimented them. "Get out there and be your own men—start building something for yourselves."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "Nothing like ranch work to keep you outa trouble. Right Kid?"

Kid snorted back at him. "Yeah. You fellas will be kept busy that's for sure."

"Have you ever done any ranch work?" Michael asked both or either of their guests.

"Ohhh yeah! Lot's of ranch work." Heyes admitted. "There've been a few cattle drives in our pasts haven't there Kid."

"Yup." Kid nodded. "Good honest work though."

"Why didn't you stay with it?" Henry asked.

"Cause we weren't good honest people." Heyes sniped dryly.

Kid sent him a reprimanding look. Over by the door Kenny knitted his brow, taking note of Heyes' cynicism during an occasion which usually brighten the inmate's mood. Their audience sat quietly and stared back at them, not quite sure how they were supposed to take that comment. Was he joking or was he...?

"What's the matter Mr. Heyes?" Little Sally asked from the second row. "You don't seem very happy today."

Kid sent him a 'now see what you've done.' kind of look and Heyes did have enough where with all to actually feel a little guilty.

"No, you're right Sally—I'm not feeling very happy today." Heyes admitted. He had made a promise to himself that he was never going to lie to these children and he sure wasn't about to start now. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault and I shouldn't be taking it out on you lot. I lost a friend just after Christmas and I suppose I'm not quite over it yet."

"Oh." Melanie responded. "That's too bad."

"Yeah." Charlie agreed with some true feeling. "It's not nice to lose a friend."

Then Sally, being the intuitive soul that she was, once again ran up to the front of the room and took her friend's hand in both of hers and looked up at him with her big brown eyes.

"We're sorry that you feel bad Mr. Heyes." She commiserated. "Can't we make you feel better?"

Heyes smiled down at her, no longer surprised or uncomfortable with this particular child's display of uninhibited affection. He didn't answer her for a moment, he just looked into her eyes and stroked her soft hair.

"No, I don't think you can sweetheart." He finally told her. "But I appreciate you wanting to try."

Then he put his hands under her arms and lifted her up to sit beside him on the front desk. Kenny was a little unsure about that move and came in a little closer but Sister Julia caught his eye and gave a subtle shake of her head. It would be alright; let's allow this to play out. Kenny relaxed a little but still kept a close watch.

As soon as Sally was settled in, she leaned into Heyes and hugged his arm but then her brow creased as she noticed his wrists. The act of hugging his arm had pulled the cuff of his tonic sleeve up just a little bit—but far enough that the angry and still red welts from the tight, blood-soaked leather bindings used to tie his hands together were exposed for all to see.

Heyes suddenly felt self-conscious and was about to pull his sleeve down again, but Sally was too fast for him. She reached down and softly caressed the old partially healed injury and then leaned into him again, hugging his arm even tighter. She couldn't possibly know how deep her friend's pain went nor the full reasons for it but she knew he was hurting and in her own childish and innocent way she did manage to help him feel a little bit better.

"How did you get those?" Asked the older William; sometimes boys just had no simpatico.

"Ahhh, well..." Heyes found himself in a dilemma again; how to tell the truth without being vindictive? "I...got into a fight and accidentally hit a guard. That's a big no-no in prison and I got punished for it."

"You hit a guard!?"

"Eewww."

Even the children knew what an extreme breach of protocol that was, relating it to being right up there with striking one of the Sisters. The alarmed eyes in the room shifted over to Kenny and then back to Heyes again, the silent question hanging in the air. Jed was wisely staying out of this one.

"No no!" Heyes assured them. "It wasn't Officer Reece."

There was a collective sigh of relief at that assurance. Officer Reece had become just as much a part of these gatherings as Heyes and the Kid had done. Nobody would have like the idea of there being strife within the group. Heyes grinned, and pulling his arm out of Sally's embrace he draped it around her shoulders and hugged her to him. Sally was quite content to stay right there.

Fifteen minutes later found the group out in the hallway with Pearson once again getting Heyes ready for the ride back to the prison. Jed decided that this was as good a time any any to discuss a very important matter with Sister Julia.

"Ah, Sister, what is the procedure if a couple wanted to adopt one of the orphans here?"

Both Heyes and the Sister raised their eyebrows.

"Were you and Beth planning on getting married sooner than was thought and then adopting, Thaddeus?" Sister Julia asked him, rather incredulously.

"Oh! No! It's not for myself...although...I'd never thought of that...that's not a bad idea." Jed stored that away for future use; Heyes' eyebrows went up even further. "But no, I'm not asking for myself at this point."

"Oh, alright." The Sister smiled. "It's quite simple actually. The couple in question will have to come for an interview first to make sure that they would be suitable. And of course if they are financially able to support a child. Then we would go from there. I always try to get a feel for a couple who wish to adopt so that I can make suggestions as to which child would best fit into their family. I take it you know this couple Thaddeus?"

"Yes Sister." Jed assured her. "I've known them for about three and a half years now. They've tried to start a family of their own, but unfortunately both attempts ended sadly and our doctor has recommended that they not try again."

"Oh dear, that is sad." Sister Julia commiserated. "But, I'm sure that if you recommend them then we should be able fix them up with one of our children. The only unfortunate thing about that is that we can't find homes for them all—but we do what we can."

"I know Sister." Jed assured her. "I'll see if I can bring them out with me to meet you. Maybe next month."

"That would be fine." Sister Julia agreed with a smile. "What are their names?"

"Sam and Maribelle Jefferies."

Heyes snorted derisively. Three of the other four adults present sent him questioning looks, Jed's look however was not questioning, it was irritated.

"GOD DAMMIT HEYES! Will you just get over it!"

"Well I..."

"NO! I've had enough of this from you!" Kid was seething. "Why can't you just let it go!? Even Bridget can't understand why you're still holding a grudge! Sam did nothing more than what you and I have done on occasion! And he had good reason for doing it! Or is your ego so badly bruised by the fact that he pulled one over on us and you didn't see it coming that you are never going to be able to forgive him!?"

Heyes was hurt. He stepped back as though Kid had hit him and he stood staring at his now shackled hands and didn't say a word. This was the second time that Kid had stepped up to the plate and chewed him out for selfish behaviour and it made him feel more and more as though he were loosing his grip on reality—loosing touch with that part of himself that made him who he was.

Was he so far out of the scheme of things now, so stagnated in his own growth and development that his younger cousin had moved ahead of him to take over the leadership role? Had he been right in his earlier assumption that Jed Curry no longer needed his older cousin to watch his back? Well, why should he? Heyes surmised. How could Heyes watch his cousin's back while he was stuck in this place? Jed had learned how to do that for himself—he had to or he wouldn't have survived, he wouldn't have been able to move ahead.

The tables had been turned. Somewhere, somehow when Heyes hadn't been looking, Jed had surged ahead and taken over the leadership role. Heyes felt lost.

"C'mon Heyes, God dammit; don't look like that." Jed said quietly, feeling guilty again for having raised his voice to his cousin who was obviously already going through a hard time. "I didn't mean..."

"No Kid, you're right." Heyes assured him. "You're not the first person lately to tell me that I take things too personally and that I have to learn how to let go." Then he smiled over at the senior guard. "Isn't that right Officer Reece?"

Kenny just smiled and nodded.

"I'm sorry Sister." Heyes continued. "Sam and Maribelle would make fine parents. Any one of those youngsters would be lucky to become part of their family."

"Thank you Joshua." She said, placing a hand on his arm. "I'll certainly keep that in mind."

"Well Mr. Pearson." Kenny spoke up. "I think it's time we got headed back. Is the wagon ready to go?"

"Yessir."

"Alright. Let's go. Sister Julia, again thank you for your hospitality. Jed, are we going to see you tonight for supper?"

"Yeah Kenny, I'll be there." Kid assured him. "Obviously there's more to discuss here than I thought."

Kenny nodded and then took Heyes by the arm. "C'mon Heyes, let's go."

"Heyes..." Jed tried to get his cousin's attention; to apologize again and to say 'goodbye'.

However Heyes did not look up, but placidly allowed himself to be led away down the hall and out the front door. Kid's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"God dammit." He mumbled and then groaned. "Oh, I'm sorry Sister. It seems I've been blaspheming all over the place here. I apologize."

"That's alright Thaddeus." She assured him. "I understand your distress. Come and sit with me for a few moments. I'll get one of the novices to bring us some tea. We need to have a talk."

Jed nodded, but inwardly he groaned. He suddenly felt like that child at Valparasio again who was about to receive a lecture on bad manners and undesirable behaviour. But much to his surprise, fifteen minutes later found him seated comfortably in an armchair with a nice warm cup of tea with honey soothing his nerves and relaxing his stress.

"I know that Joshua is making things difficult for you these days." The Sister began. Jed snorted softly. The Sister smiled. "But please try to be patient with him."

"I am trying Sister." Jed insisted. "But he's not giving me much to work with. It's like he's given up on everything and everybody. I don't know—even Dr. Slosson can't get him to respond. He's been in slumps before and we were always able to pull him out of them, but not this time. It's like he won't even meet us half way."

"Yes, I know." The Sister sighed. "I truly thought that spending some time with the children would brighten his spirits—it always did in the past. But obviously not this time. What happened to him last winter..." She shook her head regretfully. "I don't know Thaddeus. He may not ever fully recover from that ordeal. And if we can't even get him to go to services..."

"Yeah. I don't know what to do."

"Just carry on doing what you've been doing. No one has done more for him than you Thaddeus. I'm still amazed at your loyalty and the support that you've shown him." Again Jed snorted a little derisively. "No, Thaddeus I mean it. Many people claim to be friends to the end, but you and Joshua truly are."

"Yeah well, I wish he'd remember that."

"He will." The Sister assured him with a smile. "You just keep on doing what you've been doing and we'll trust and pray that he will find his way back from this dark place he is in right now. He's a strong man Thaddeus—he'll come back to you."

The wagon ride back to the prison was tense and for the first half, silent. Kenny sat across the buckboard from the inmate and was watching him intently. Heyes was more than aware of the scrutiny and had to make a conscious effort to not let himself squirm.

Heyes was feeling antagonistic. Why was Jed going over to have dinner with Kenny and his family—again!? If Heyes had been willing to take a closer look at the emotions he was feeling, he would have realized that the primary one was petty jealousy. His best friend was moving on! Building new friendships, forging new loyalties and leaving Heyes behind to rot in prison.

The fact that this was what Heyes had been telling him he should do was totally irrelevant. Heyes telling him to do it, and Kid actually deciding for himself to do it were two very different things! Now here was Kenny sitting there, staring at him. Boring into him with those gray eyes, trying to break him—trying to make him crack!

Heyes was determined that he wasn't going to crack, that he wasn't going to give in, but as the ride continued on his resolve began to weaken. If it had been Carson playing the dominance game Heyes could have withstood it until hell froze over. He would never have given that guard the satisfaction of squirming under the assault.

But with Kenny it was different. Maybe it was because Heyes cared about what that particular guard thought of him that he finally began to unravel. Then his tense and hostile stance began to crumble and about half way back to the prison, it totally fell apart and Heyes submitted. Only then did Kenny avert his eyes, only then did he release the inmate from the scrutiny. Then Heyes really started to squirm.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He released a number of heavy sighs, coughed nervously and tried to look everywhere but at the guard. Kenny sat quietly, waiting. Dammit! Heyes started to feel angry again, then guilty, then contrite. Next came admittance, then apologetic and then downright shameful of his behaviour. Shoulders slumped—another heavy sigh. Kenny waited.

Finally—"Alright!" Came the abrupt surrender.

Pearson started a bit up in the driver's seat. He for one had been totally unaware of the silent battle for supremacy that had been taking place behind him.

Kenny calmly turned his gray eyes back to the inmate. "Something on your mind Heyes?"

Heyes seethed, his jaw tightening in irritation. He was back to being angry again, but it was too late to retreat.

"I'm sorry, alright?!" Heyes threw at him. "Isn't that what you want to hear? Want me to apologize for behaving like an ass again! I always seem to end up apologizing to you and I don't even know what I'm doing wrong half the time! Well, no...okay! You're right; that's not entirely true! I usually know when I'm behaving like an ass—but what's it to you!? Why should I have to apologize to you for my behaviour? You don't hear me apologizing to Mr. Pearson here or to Thompson—or heaven forbid, to Carson! Like I would ever apologize to that bastard—oh and now I suppose I'm expected to apologize for calling Carson a bastard! Hell, I broke Thompson's collar bone and I never apologized to him—don't intend to either, dammit! He had it coming even if I didn't do it intentionally. Not that that mattered though did it? I still got hung out to dry!

"Hell, I may as well start planning to attack the guards—if I'm going to get punished for it anyways I may as well have the pleasure of anticipating the assault in the first place. Wouldn't that make life in the prison interesting!? Oh look! Heyes is on the rampage—again! Oh well, how many times can we hang him from the ceiling?! May as well just do it the one time and get it over with—just leave him there until he suffocates! One less uppity inmate to worry about!

"Oh hell, what's the point?" Heyes lowered the volume a little bit. "I keep on trying to do the right thing, trying to get by without getting into trouble and it just doesn't seem to work out. Why should I even bother continuing to try? I donno, I suppose it's better than sitting around doing nothing, I suppose.

"There's just nowhere in that entire prison where I can feel safe—ya know? Carson has come at me in the infirmary and the laundry room. Jeez, the laundry room wasn't even for something I had done, right or wrong; but for something he just suspected me of thinking of doing! How fair is that? How am I suppose to win with those odds? Course, I guess that's the point isn't it? I'm not supposed to win am I? The convicts loose every time—all the time.

"Well no, I guess that's not entirely true either. Dr. Slosson does what she can and Sister Julia helps a lot. Doc Morin is a good guy—we actually have fun together, sometimes. And you've always treated me fairly; yeah, you only beat me up with the club when I deserve it! Well no—you're right. That's not true, you're actually a pretty decent fella. What the hell are you doing working in a prison? You should be a mayor or something, not a bloody prison guard!

"Oh, but I sure would be in dire straights if you weren't a prison guard. Ohhh, I don't even want to go there! I've never even thought about that before—that's scary. Not planning on going anywhere are ya' Kenny? Oh! Ooops, sorry didn't mean to call ya' Kenny. I meant Mr. Reece. I mean, I guess it's just cause Kid calls ya' Kenny and I suppose I do too when we're talking about you, but I know I shouldn't call you that to your face. And it's not like we're saying anything bad about you when we're talking about you, ya' know. It's all good.

"Now I suppose you and Kid are gonna be talking about me tonight aren't ya'? What's up with Heyes? Why is Heyes being such as ass these days? What can we do to get him out of his slump? I know what you could do! You could get me the hell outa here, that's what you could do! I'd feel a whole lot better then—I can pretty much guarantee it! Oh, but I suppose Kid knows that. I know he's doing the best he can but he's fighting an up hill battle, that's for sure.

"I don't know what else he can do. I guess that's a lot of why I'm so down these days; I just don't see any more options open to us. I guess I'm just feeling like I'm going to be stuck in here forever, and seven years may as well be forever! I can't imagine seven years. I just...I can't see the end of that. Hmm, Jay will be ten years old then. Hmm, that's the same age I was when I lost my parents. I thought I was a grown man then and that I could take on the responsibility of the world. Ten years old, yeah right."

Heyes paused for breath and then gave a big sigh. Kenny sat quietly, knowing that more was still to come.

"Jeez Kenny, I just don't know who I am anymore. Oh, there I go calling ya' 'Kenny' again." Heyes continued, and then added sardonically. "Still, if you haven't hit me for it yet then I guess it's okay with you for right now. Still, can't be doing that in front of anybody else can I? Well, I guess I did it in front of Pearson here, but he doesn't really count." Pearson turned his head slightly not so sure he liked that comment. "Do it in front of anybody else and you'll be after me with that bully club won't ya? I mean, why not? Everybody else hits me with the bloody thing, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you do it too. Just like in the infirmary—well, no. I suppose I had that one coming and you didn't actually hit me did you."

Another heavy sigh.

"Even Kid's mad at me." Heyes mumbled, feeling sorry for himself now. "I can't believe that he's sided with that little up-start of a backstabber over me!" Looks down at the floor of the buckboard, thinking. "But maybe he's right, maybe my ego was so bruised that I can't accept that some 'youngster' out-witted me, I mean; isn't that just the icing on the cake!"

Another stretch of silence. The buckboard continued to bounce and battle its way back towards the prison.

"I have been thinking about what you said to me." Heyes finally continued. "About how I'm still behaving like an outlaw and that maybe I'm just not ready to be released. You know that really hit home. Cause, I mean, if you think that then how is the parole board gonna think any different?" Heyes became contemplative and then continued on quietly, almost as though he were talking to himself. "I feel like I'm loosing my grip here Kenny; I just don't know what to do. I used to like myself but now I don't even know who I am anymore.

"Now I look back at the person I used to be and I don't even like that person either! I mean—you're right! I've been making choices all my life just to satisfy the immediate need, without giving any serious thought to the long term consequences. Now here I am still doing the same thing!"

Another heavy sigh, another long term silence. Then Heyes gave a subtle nod to himself.

"I'm beginning to think that you and that judge are right." He continued. "That I am beyond redemption, beyond reformation. I am who I am and I just get lost trying to be anything different. I'm never gonna get outa here. I'm gonna be stuck in here for the rest of my life." Then he perked up and gave a little bit of a smile, "Of course, nobody says that the rest of my life has to be for much longer."

Kenny cocked an eyebrow at that comment.

"I mean, that's kinda my choice, isn't it?" Heyes continued. "Nobody can force me to carry on if I decide that I don't want to, can they? Still, I don't suppose I'm ready to go down that road just yet. 'As long as you have life, you have hope.' That's what a friend of mine said to me an eternity ago. ' As long as you have life'..." Heyes stared into nothing for a moment and then smiled and raised his eyes to meet Kenny's gaze. "When is the presidential election?"

"Ahhhmmm." Kenny was taken by surprise with that question; it seemed so out of context. "Ahhh, early in the new year I think."

Heyes nodded. "Early in the new year." He repeated thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I could wait around until then."

Rather abruptly the wagon gave a slight lurch and Heyes glanced up to find that they had come to a halt inside the prison yard. Pearson started to climb down from the driver's seat and Kenny stood up in preparation of unloading the prisoner.

"Well Heyes." He commented. "Glad we could have this little talk."

"Yeah."

The arrival of the officials to the prison, when it came, could not have happened on a more opportune day than it did. When the secretary knocked on his office door to inform Warden Mitchell of his important guests, he sighed in disbelieving relief at the lucky coincidence. Mr. Reece and Hannibal Heyes had left for the orphanage only an hour ago and would be gone from the prison until mid-afternoon—plenty of time for these nosey intruders to be shown around and placated and then sent on their official way. The only one the warden had to keep an eye on now was Dr. Morin and that shouldn't be too difficult.

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" Mitchell greeted the three officials. "Please, do come in! Have a seat."

The three men from the hearing board entered the office and settled in to the chairs that had been provided.

"Mr. Mitchell." Mr. Simons greeted him. "May I introduce Mr. Douglas and Mr. Wilton. I do believe you know why we are here?"

"Yes yes, gentlemen. Of course." Mitchell assured them with a smile. "Such nonsense really. I'm sure that once I show you around you will see that this prison is run extremely efficiently. All these accusations of unwarranted punishments—totally ridiculous!" He sighed and shook his head to emphasize how silly it all was. "But we must keep the governor happy I suppose. All part of playing politics I suppose."

"Mr. Mitchell, this is hardly a game." Simons pointed out, already not particularly liking the warden. "I expect you to take these accusations seriously."

"Of course, Mr. Simons." Mitchell assured him as he sobered up and tried to look contrite. "It's very serious. May I offer you gentlemen some brandy? I really do have some very nice..."

"That won't be necessary Mr. Mitchell." Simons interjected. "I think it best that we get on with the reason for our visit."

"Oh." Mitchell seemed disappointed. "Yes, of course."

Fifteen minutes later found the four gentlemen entering the prison proper and moving down onto the work floor where they were met by Officer Carson.

"Gentlemen." Mitchell began. "This is our senior guard, Mr. Carson. He is obviously in charge of making sure that the prison runs smoothly and that the inmates all behave themselves. Mr. Carson, these gentlemen are from the prison board. They're here to make sure that everything is running properly and that the inmates are all treated fairly. Perhaps you could assist me in showing them around."

"Yessir, Mr. Mitchell." Carson agreed, though his expression was hardly supporting his agreement. "This is the work floor."

"Yes, Mr. Carson. We can see that." Commented Mr. Simons dryly. "We are also well aware of what happens on the work floor. I believe we are more interested in the accusations of unwarranted punishments being handed down to the inmates by certain guards. Yourself in particular."

"I assure you gentlemen that any punishments that have been handed down to the inmates have been warranted." Carson sleezed. "Some of these convicts can get awfully aggressive and need to be handle in like manner or they don't get the message. If they behave themselves then they have nothing to worry about."

"Hmm." Simons wasn't convinced. "Perhaps if we could have a word with the inmate in question. Mr. Heyes, wasn't it?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible today Mr. Simons." Mitchell told him, again silently thanking the fates for this excellent timing.

"Why not, Mr. Mitchell. Is he being punished for something?"

"No no!" Mitchell laughed at the obvious snipe. "No, no. Mr. Heyes and Officer Reece are over at the orphanage today, speaking with the children."

All three of the official gentlemen perked up at that. This was interesting.

"They're at the orphanage?" Asked Mr. Douglas. "Is that a common occurrence?"

"Well, yes." Mitchell informed them. "Two or three times a year Officers Reece and Pearson escort Mr. Heyes over to the orphanage to spend the afternoon speaking with the children. They all seem to enjoy it quite a bit."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Odd." Mr. Douglas finally commented. "Mr. Reece said nothing of this at the hearing."

"Really?" Mitchell fringed surprise. "I don't understand why not. Unless he was trying to paint as bleak a picture of life here at the prison as he possibly could. Just to try to win his case, such as it is."

"Yes." Mr. Simons mumbled. "Interesting."

"Hmm. Well, shall we carry on to the dinning hall?" Mitchell suggested. "The inmates enjoy three squares a day there and I haven't heard any complaints about the food yet!"

"I believe we would rather take a look at your medical facility first, Mr. Mitchell." Simons countered. "Perhaps have a word with your prison doctor. I believe he lodged some complaints himself."

"If you insist." Mitchell agreed. "Of course. I must warn you though that prisons don't attract the top of the line when it comes to doctors. It's hardly a prestigious position so the doctors that we do get are usually on the outer rim of their profession, if you get my meaning. You might want to take Dr. Morin's opinions with a grain of salt."

"We will be the judge of that Mr. Mitchell." Simons assured him. "Just lead the way."

"Of course."

Over in the infirmary, the four men entered the ward to find the doctor nowhere in sight. The ward itself was clean and orderly and the three officials were impressed with how well maintained it appeared to be. There were no patients in the ward at this time, which wasn't too unusual for the time of the year, winter being the busy season so the officials occupied themselves by looking around and being impressed by the apparently well run facility.

Then a loud crash came from an adjoining office, followed instantly by a string of obscenities that would have made an old army Sargent blush.

"Jexxx fxxxing Chrxxx! Who the hell put that fxxxing tray there!?" The doctor made his appearance into the ward and continued swearing until he came face to face with the rather surprised looking officials. "Oh! Just who the fxxx are you and what are you doing in the middle of my infirmary!?"

"Dr. Morin." Mitchell tried to sound discreet. "These gentlemen are from the prison board. They are here to follow up on the accusations of abuse presented to the board by Officer Reece—and yourself, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh." Morin did look a tad contrite. "Sxxt!" He coughed with a little bit of embarrassment. "I apologize for my language. I didn't realize there was anyone else here."

"Yes, of course, Doctor." Mr. Simons responded. "Ahhhmmm, I understand you had some complaints about the senior guard here?"

"OH! Carson! That fxxxing pxxxk!" Morin cringed and then sighed resignedly. "I'm sorry gentlemen—old habits. And that Carson just pisses me off...anyway...yeah, that guard is just a sadist, he should be fired as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh really, Doctor." Mitchell placated him. "That's a tad extreme don't you think? Mr. Carson is simply doing his job in keeping the inmates in line here."

"Doing his job?!" Morin snarled. "He had no right coming in here and beating up on my assistant—and you damn well know it! That bastard!"

"Excuse me Dr. Morin." Mr. Douglas intervened. "Are you referring to the incident that happened last year, involving Mr. Heyes?"

"You bet your axx that's what I'm referring to!" Morin agreed. "Heyes was just doing his job, and he saved that young fellas life out there on the floor—he did nothing wrong! And that bastard Carson with his little lackey, Thompson came into MY INFIRMARY and beat the cxxp outa him! And that's just one incident! And Heyes isn't the only one who's been terrorized by that axxhole!" Here Morin pointed an accusing finger at Mitchell. "You know as well as I do that Carson beat Calhoun to death four years ago! Fell down the steps—my axx!"

"That could never be proved Dr. Morin" Mitchell reminded him, barely keeping his temper in check. "You know that."

"Yeah, nothing can ever be proven can it Mitchell?" Morin threw back at him. "And stuff that can't be covered up you find a way to justify!"

"Perhaps that is because the punishments handed out are justified!" Mitchell responded. "Being a doctor I can understand why you might not agree with that assessment! But being the warden here, the severity of punishments is left to my discretion and Mr. Carson has been well within his rights!"

"HE HAD NO RIGHT TO COME IN HERE AND...!"

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please!" Mr. Simons interjected. "Obviously there is a difference of opinion here! I believe we have heard enough Mr. Mitchell. If we could return to your office now to discuss this. Dr. Morin, thank you for your time."

"Hmmmm." Morin grumbled. "Fine! Good day to you too."

Back up in Mitchell's office silence weighed heavy over the four men until Mr. Simons gave a discreet cough and broke the stalemate.

"Well, Mr. Mitchell." He began. "There are certainly discrepancies here that need to be looked into. We will recommend to Governor Moonlight that we send a man in here to take a closer look at the situation. Perhaps next time Mr. Heyes will actually be available to answer some questions."

"Yes, of course Mr. Simons." Mitchell accepted that. "Whatever you think necessary."

The three officials took their leave and Warden Mitchell sat at his desk and fumed. He was seething. Damn that Morin and his big mouth! Mitchell almost had those busybodies satisfied with the way he ran the prison and then Morin just had to put a wrench into the whole thing! Damn him! Something was going to have to be done about this!

Kenny had initially invited Jed for dinner again because his two boys would not stop pestering their father to get the ex-outlaw there to display his fast draw. It just wasn't fair—they bemoaned—that orphaned children were privileged enough to see it, actually privileged enough to meet both Heyes and Curry, when the sons of the (almost) senior guard were being so unfairly deprived of this honour!

If they couldn't meet Hannibal Heyes then at least Kid Curry could come out for a second visit and display his talents, after all he had promised that he would! Kenny had finally relented, especially when Evelyn, whom he could never resist, beseeched him with those soft gray eyes and asked very politely if Mr. Curry could please come to dinner again.

Kenny had sighed helplessly over at his wife who had smiled knowingly and set about planning dinner for a guest. Now, of course Kenny was glad of Jed's planned visit since as the ex-gunman had observed himself, there seemed to be a lot that needed discussing.

It was later that evening, after the long anticipated fast draw display and a very fine supper were completed that Jed and Kenny retired to the back porch for brandy and a cigar. It was a pleasant evening, still light out and warm enough to be comfortable to sit outdoors for their discussion until twilight would send them inside again.

Evelyn had actually managed to settled onto Jed's lap and much to her father's amusement had snuggled in to eventually fall asleep listening to her hero's heartbeat and his voice rumbling soothingly in her ears.

Sarah had offered to take her off his hands and put her to bed, but Jed had just smiled and declined, stating that she was no bother and seemed so comfortable that it would be a shame to disturb her. The two parents had exchanged quiet looks and then the mother returned indoors to pass the evening with her own endeavours.

"How was he today after we parted company?" Jed asked with a little trepidation.

Kenny sighed wearily and rolled his eyes. "Oh brother." He complained. "I was beginning to question my stance on abolishing the 'no talking' rule." Then he shook his head and smiled. "Has he always been like that? I mean it took him a while to break down and start talking, but once he did he just wouldn't shut up."

Jed couldn't help but laugh, but it was partly out of relief.

"Yeah." He assured the guard. "Like I told ya' before; it's when he won't talk that ya' gotta worry. If he's talking, then maybe he'll pull himself outa this."

"He didn't want to at first." Kenny admitted. "I really had to push him and he got pretty angry—he resented it."

"Hmm." Jed took a sip of brandy. "If I try pushing him when he doesn't want to talk he just turns nasty and then digs in even deeper. I'm kinda surprised he opened up to you like that."

"Well, I have an advantage over him that you don't have."

"Oh?"

"I'm not his friend." Kenny pointed out. "I don't have to worry about the aftermath. I can push him far harder than you ever would and he knows he's at a disadvantage with me because I won't let him get away with insolence. Sometimes it takes a person who's not as close to him as you are to get him off balance enough that the barriers break down."

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed admitted with just a slight twinge of begrudgement. "I gotta disagreed on one of your points though; you are his friend Kenny—one of the few friends he has in that place. He respects you and Heyes doesn't give his respect easily."

Kenny nodded. "I remember you commenting on that at the hearing. And I suppose I already know you're right about it. He's usually very respectful towards me, far more than to any of the other guards. Especially now."

"What do ya' mean? Why now?"

"He's angry Jed." Kenny informed him. "He's angry and bitter over what happened this past winter. It's just like what I told Thompson way back when he first hired on at the prison. I told him that if he treated Heyes fairly then they'd get along fine. I told him that Heyes is smart enough to know when he deserved punishment and smart enough to know what was fair and what wasn't." Kenny sighed regretfully. "Thompson didn't listen. I'm afraid he'd already been too much influenced by Carson, so...anyway, of course Heyes knew that what they did to him was totally unjust and he is so very angry. He's been keeping it bottled up for the most part, although he did blow up at me just before the hearing about the injustice of it."

"You're kidding!"

"Oh, I'd pushed him." Kenny admitted. "I was quite angry with him at the time myself and I pushed him into a corner in more ways than one."

"Why were you angry with him?" Jed asked, feeling a little protective of his cousin. "What did he do?"

"He went after Boeman in retaliation for Lobinskie." Kenny explained. "Hit him hard too, really hard. Laid him up for a good month or more. And I was just so pissed off with Heyes at that point. The hearing was just around the corner and we were all working hard towards it, and I thought; working together. Then Heyes went and reverted to type; did something that was so self-serving that I was about ready to strangle him!" Big sigh, contemplating what he wanted to say next. "I know you're not going to like this Jed, but I've felt for some time, and now more than ever that Heyes just isn't ready to be released from prison yet."

Kenny was right about one thing; Jed did not like the sound of that. He tensed up and was instantly defensive.

"What?!" Jed demanded. "How can you say that? I thought you were on our side here! How can you think that Heyes being in that place is helping him!?"

Evelyn stirred in her sleep, disturbed by the sudden antagonism in her pillow. Jed stroked her hair and gave her a gentle hug to calm her back to sleep, and in so doing calmed himself down as well. Kenny watched and waited until both his daughter and his guest had settled again.

"I didn't say that place was helping him, not the way its being run now." Kenny explained. "That's why I was at the hearing; to try and bring some reform into the prison system and to have stricter guidelines on the uses and severity of punishments. I was not there trying to petition an instant release for Hannibal Heyes."

"Well...but, why not?" Jed was still upset over this announcement, but doing a better job of containing it.

"Because up until quite recently, Heyes had never given me any indication that he had changed his perspective." Kenny continued with his explanation. "If he had been released at the time of the hearing I am fairly confident that he would have, well 'reverted to type', just as he did with Boeman. And just as he did with Boeman, he would have felt totally justified in doing so. I mean, Jed, his whole trial was based on him justifying why he became a conman, an outlaw. He used the Civil War and the tragedies that befell both of you during that time as the reasons for his later conduct. By holding on to that self-righteousness he simply helped himself to justify those feelings of entitlement and therefore never truly accepted responsibility for his actions."

"Yeah, but...those things happened Kenny." Jed insisted, feeling the need to stand up for his cousin. "It's not like he made them up to use them as an excuse. They really happened."

"I know." Kenny conceded. "But they didn't just happen to you. I lost everything I had known and had accepted as my life because of that war. So many people lost their livelihoods, lost their families, lost their homes. You and Heyes were not the only ones. And you certainly weren't the only ones to end up in orphanages. Too many children lost families—too many children witnessed terrible things. But how many of them rose up to become the territories two most wanted outlaws?"

"Well then you must think that I got off easy." Jed commented quietly. "That I didn't deserve the amnesty. That I should have been hanged just like DeFord and the Judge had wanted?"

"No." Kenny shook his head. "No I don't believe that you deserved that Jed. I don't know if you deserved the amnesty or not, that's not for me to say. I do know that you've done better with it than what Heyes would have done. I don't know why. Maybe your temperament is more grounded—more solid. I know you've had problems with your tempter before, but you seem to have learned how to control it, and you've learned patience too, that much is obvious. You also accepted responsibility for your behaviour and you apologized for it, right there in court, right in front of the whole assembly. That couldn't have been easy to do, but you did it. Those are huge steps forward Jed, steps that Heyes has yet to take."

"But he's the one who kept us on track for the amnesty." Curry insisted. "He's the one who kept us true..."

"And he's the one who repeatedly lost his temper during his trial. He's the one who was found in contempt. He's the one who was convicted of running a scam!"

"Yes, but..."

"I know Jed!" Kenny interrupted him. "I know all the excuses you're going to come back at me with. Miss Hale blackmailed you. You were just as much a part of it as Heyes was. He was being loyal to his friends! I know."

Now Evelyn really woke up. The sounds of her father's angry tones invading her peaceful dreams. She stretched and moaned irritably while rubbing her eyes awake. Fortunately Sarah had also been disturbed by the raised voices out on the porch and had come out to investigate.

"Oh dear." She commented when she saw her squirming daughter. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you to bed."

Jed helped to lift the child up to her mother and both men looked a little contrite.

"Sorry ma'am—ah, Sarah." Jed apologized. "I suppose we were getting a little heated there."

Sarah smiled as she hoisted her groggy daughter onto her shoulder, but when she turned she sent a reprimanding look to her husband.

"Sorry." He obediently responded.

"Fine." Sarah accepted the apologies. "I have more coffee on. Would you gentlemen like some?"

"Yes, that's a good idea." Kenny accepted. "I can get it if you like."

"No, no." Sarah declined the offer. "You sound like you're in the middle of an important debate here. Just let me get Eve put to bed and I'll bring it."

The ladies left and Jed and Kenny looked across at one another, knowing that the interruption was probably fortuitous in that it gave both men the time to calm down.

"Anyway." Kenny continued. "I suppose the point I'm trying to make here is that you have grown beyond the outlaw who you used to be and Heyes has not. You could argue that Heyes has been stuck in prison and hasn't had the chance to move on but I don't think I agree with that. Most of the problems Heyes has experienced since his incarceration have been brought on by his own self-serving attitude and decisions."

Kenny paused again, thinking about how he was going to explain his next point.

"As I said earlier, I have been pushing Heyes lately." Kenny reiterated. "I have been pushing him hard with the intention of getting a reaction from him. I've said things to him that hurt him and, I know, sacred him as well."

"Scared him?" Jed questioned. What could Kenny have said that would scare him?

"Oh yes." Kenny nodded. "I knew it was dangerous to push him that hard. But I had to make him stop and re-examine who he is and what his motivations are or he is never going to make parole. The danger with that, of course is pushing him too hard—pushing him right over the edge."

"What do you mean?" Jed asked, not feeling too comfortable with this. "You mean his sanity?"

"No, not that." Kenny reflected where he was trying to go with this. "Perhaps his confidence. His sense of self. Like I said; I had to make him stop and realize that he has simply been repeating the same behaviour that sent him to prison in the first place. If he doesn't come to realize that and start trying to change his behaviour then once he does get released he'll just go right back to being Hannibal Heyes; outlaw. Hannibal Heyes; conman. And feel that he is totally justified in doing so."

Jed took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His brain was spinning.

"Jeez Kenny. How do you think up all this stuff?" He asked, rather incredulously. "How do you even recognize it?!"

Kenny sat back with a smile. "Well, like I said at the hearing; I've been a guard for a lot of years now and I've seen a lot of inmates come and go—and I've seen a lot of them come back. All a person has to do is pay attention and the patterns do start to show themselves. Once Heyes is released the last thing I want to see is him coming right back in again."

"Ohhh." Jed sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I never even thought of that. I've been so focused on just getting him out in the first place—it never even occurred to me that he might end up doing stuff that would get him sent back in again! Oh brother!"

Then Sarah arrived with the coffee and some hard fruit cake left over from Christmas.

"How is it going?" She asked as she placed the tray down on the table between them. "Making any progress?"

"I donno." Jed admitted. "I feel like we're going backwards!"

"Oh no." Kenny smiled as he picked up his coffee. "You're getting the jist of it."

Jed picked up his coffee and sat back with a sigh. He was feeling very appreciative of the hot beverage right now and thanked Sarah for suggesting it.

She smiled and retreated, leaving the men to continue on with the obviously intense conversation.

"So." Jed began again after a heavy sigh and a couple of sips of coffee. "Is he beginning to see what it is that he's doing to himself?"

"Well, our conversation coming back from the orphanage today would suggest so, yes." Kenny surmised. "But he's at a very vulnerable stage right now. He's scared. He's had the carpet pulled out from under him and he's questioning everything. He's hurting, inside and out—emotionally and physically. And his one remaining hope; the hearing, fell short of accomplishing what he wanted.

"As I said, and as you've noticed yourself, he's very angry and bitter over what happened at Christmas and I guess we can't fault him for that. But I'm concerned that he's not going to get over it this time, that with everything else that happened, that perhaps I pushed him too hard." Here Kenny stopped and shook his head, realizing that he was second guessing himself. "But no, I had to push him. It's like in order to save his life, to force him to re-assess himself I had to push him right to the edge of the abyss and just hope and pray that he has the strength to step back from it."

Jed felt a tingling of fear grip his heart as the full meaning of Kenny's words sunk in. The two men sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their coffees as the evening started to close in on them.

"I can't imagine Heyes giving up that way." Jed finally admitted in hardly more than a whisper. "It's just not him Kenny. I know I've been accusing him of that myself lately, but Heyes has never given up. Even when we were kids, even when it seemed hopeless, he was the one who kept me going. No." Jed shook his head adamantly. "That's not Heyes—he won't give up! He'll step back, you'll see!"

Kenny made no comment. He knew that Jed would have a hard time hearing that and probably would not be willing to accept it and maybe that was a good thing. Because if Jed refused to accept that possibility then maybe he just simply would not allow Heyes to accept it either.

Kenny had been around this block too many times and he recognized the signs but he still allowed himself the privilege of hoping. Heyes did have friends, inside the prison and out and perhaps if they all stuck together and kept at it they would be able to keep the inmate going. But Kenny's one real fear was that Heyes would end up getting hurt again; that he'd get pushed down that one more notch. Down to that final rung where the next step would be just be as simple as letting go into oblivion.

Wheat Carlson smiled to himself. It was a humourless smile though; hard and cold to match the look in his eye. This is what he had planned and it was satisfying to see everything all fall into place just as he hoped it would. He had turned his horse's head back into Wyoming after he had read that newspaper article, he had turned back because he didn't want to live a life of constantly looking over his shoulder. He didn't want to spend his life wondering when the bullet would come out of the dark and send him packing.

He had turned back, deliberately mapping out Morrison's movements, following every choice he made, begrudging every life he took. He'd sit at his campfire at night thinking about what that marshal had done over the past four years and he'd grind his teeth and curse the very ground that lawman walked upon. First it had been Curry and Heyes. Even Wheat knew how close Kid had come to dying at the hands of that bastard, and then what had happened to Heyes was even worse! Wheat hadn't always seen eye to eye with that young, arrogant little...but that didn't mean that Wheat would have wished life in prison onto him either.

Then Hank had been taken out just at the snap of the fingers—no warning, nothing! Just 'Bang!' and he was dead before he left the saddle. And then that ambush! Yeah, in hindsight Wheat berated himself for not seeing it coming—it had just been too good to be true, and too good to pass up. So, Charlie and Preacher and now Lobo had been added to the lengthening list of the deceased. Not to mention all those other fellas who hadn't been with the gang quite so long. And now the Cripple Creek boys! The list was just getting too damn long to ignore!

And then there was Kyle, his own partner, still stuck in that damn prison. He'd been there coming up on a year now and probably hating every minute of it—Wheat surmised, and he'd grind his teeth and strangle his coffee cup even more.

Now he knew that Morrison was on his trail. It hadn't been hard really. All Wheat had to do was predict the lawman's direction of travel and then simply put himself 'in harm's way'. Leaving a cold campfire, hidden but not too hidden, filing a notch into one of the shoes on his horse, using money he had snatched from the previous town to buy supplies in the next town. Yup, Wheat knew how to cover his tracks when he wanted to, so it stood to reason that he'd know how to lay a track when that became his goal.

Morrison had gotten cocky and he was following that track like an old hound dog on the scent. Wheat sat back against his saddle to have a smoke and didn't care that his campfire was shining out like a beacon in the night. Let that bastard come. Hell or high water, death or triumph; Wheat Carlson was going to put an end to it, one way or another.

The next morning Wheat turned his horse's nose towards a labyrinth of trails and gulleys. He knew it well since the gang had used it on numerous occasions to lose a posse or some persistent bounty hunter who had latched on to the tail of one of them. It was the perfect place for what Wheat had in mind and all he had to do was make sure that the posse following him didn't get lost.

Sure enough, within an hour of entering this confusing maze the seasoned outlaw had to turn back and leave fresh signs for the posse to latch onto. Left to their own devices they would have become hopelessly turned around long before the sun had reached its zenith. Wheat would just snort and shake his head—no wonder they'd all stayed actively thieving for so long. If this was the best the opposing side had to offer it stood to reason that they relied on ambushing their quarry in order to be successful.

Finally Wheat arrived at the spot that he had been aiming for. The trail was narrow, room for only one horse at a time to come along it and with rock faces rising up on either side which would make for good cover. Wheat was planning a little ambush of his own and he didn't care how many of those posse men he ended up killing, so long as Morrison was one of them.

Now Wheat got busy covering his tracks. He knew that posse was no more than half an hour behind him and that would give him just enough time to confuse the issue. The ground was hard here, almost like rock and Wheat turned back on his own trail, his horse's hooves leaving only an occasional scuffing, indicating that a horse had come this way but leaving the direction of travel totally ambiguous.

The posse would assume that the outlaw had kept on going straight and the only way it wouldn't work is if they had an Apache with them. Considering how easily this group had gotten lost already, Wheat highly doubted the possibility of an Apache!

Wheat continued to backtrack for about a hundred yards until he found that little side trail that would take him off the main track and up into the rocks where he would be able to settle into a hiding place with full view of the trail below him.

He turned his horse onto the narrow path, then dismounting he grabbed some loose scrub and quickly but thoroughly brushed away the tracks that would give away his movements. Then he remounted and booted his mount into a lope up the hill and into the rocky landscape that would offer such a natural cover for anyone who knew where to find it.

Once he did find the spot that he was looking for, he dismounted and leading his horse down into a small gully where it would be well hidden from sight, he tied the animal to some scrub brush and went about the business of getting ready. He pulled his rifle from the scabbard and then digging into his saddle bags he found and pulled out two boxes of cartridges—one for the rifle and one for the six-shooter. Then he made his way up the side of the small gully and over to the edge of the embankment.

He found the perfect spot to settle in to; a nice little dip in the ground with two large boulders for cover with just enough space between them for his rifle to set and his view of the trail below him unobstructed. He sat down, leaning against the boulders and began to load the rifle and then his six-shooter. Then he placed both boxes of cartridges onto the ground, out of the way but still within reach so that he could quickly re-load either weapon if needs be. He gave a little snort at that thought; he kinda doubted that he would be re-loading.

With all the preparations taken care of, Wheat took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and then released it. He did one more quick check to be sure that his horse was out of sight and then settled in to await his pursuers. He was surprised at how calm he felt; he had expected to be dealing with cold sweats and a knotted gut by now, but he was unexpectedly relaxed. Maybe that was normal when you'd already made up your mind that you weren't going to survive the encounter anyways. Maybe it was the hope that you were going to get out alive that brought on the nervousness. If you already accepted that it was a one way trip, well then, what was there to be nervous about?

Wheat smiled and nodded his head; yeah, that made sense. Then he tensed just a bit and stared down along the trail below him. He'd heard something. A hoof striking a rock maybe? A horse snorting? He wasn't sure what, but he knew he'd heard something. He pulled the rifle up and rested the barrel between the two boulders, watching and waiting for the first of the riders to come around the bend and into his sights.

He listened and waited. What was taking them so long? They should be coming around that bend by now—jeez they didn't get lost again did they?! Then he caught his breath and got himself ready; he'd definitely heard it this time, the jingling of a bit, the snorting of a horse. They were coming. He sat up straighter and aiming his rifle towards the bend he settled into the stock and squinted along the barrel, waiting for the first rider to come in to view.

He knew he couldn't start shooting right away. He had to wait until the whole posse was on that stretch of trail and within his sights. He'd wait until they were all there and then he'd single out that bastard Morrison and blow him to kingdom come. After that he'd just keep shooting until he ran out of bullets or he was dead, he didn't care which and he didn't care how many others he took with him, so long as Morrison was one of them!

Wheat watched and waited. Then—there it was; a horse moving into sight. But then...what? There was nobody on it! It was just a lone horse plodding along the trail with it's reins wrapped around the saddle horn. What the hell? Then the outlaw heard a noise behind him, and lifting the rifle he swung it around to face the new threat, but he wasn't quite fast enough.

He got only the briefest glimpse of a man standing there and the loud report and flash of a rifle firing towards him and then at the same time, by instinct alone, his own rifle going off in self-defence! A burning like white lightening seared across his ribcage and he knew he'd been hit. He cocked the rifle, preparing for round two but then the gun smoke cleared and the lawman was sprawled on the ground and not moving.

In the next instant he heard another rifle shot coming from down below and he felt rock splinters dance up and attack the side of his face. He flinched away from it and then swung around again and prepared to return fire. But the scene below him was pandemonium and there was nothing for him to focus in on for a useful attack. Riderless horses were galloping in circles; they weren't panicked yet but nervous and hopeful of a way out but still causing enough confusion and dust to complicate matters.

Wheat was still trying to find a target when another rifle shot sounded and the bullet hit the rock face close enough to make the outlaw duck. He knew he had to get out of there! He didn't mind dying—his life as he'd known it was over anyways and he didn't have anything else. But he'd be damned if he died and didn't take Morrison with him! He might not have been able to save his gang, but he sure as hell was gonna avenge them!

He grabbed the boxes of cartridges, and bending low he made a run for his horse, snatching up the deputy's fallen rifle as he went. Once he was away from the edge he was out of the line of fire and was able to tuck the boxes back into the saddle bags, sheath one of the rifles and then swing aboard his nervous horse without interference. He booted the animal into a gallop and headed full speed down the other side of the ridge and out into the flat country, heading for the cover of the copse of trees.

He knew that posse would be coming after him, and that was a good thing. He'd draw them out in the open, out where he could see them coming and then he could take his time, find his target and end this game before it became a loosing one.

Wheat galloped on, sending up a trail of dust off the hard ground that could be seen for miles around. A quick check over his shoulder and he could see a larger billow of dust rising into the air and following his own track. They were coming after him for sure so he turned eyes forward and pushed his horse onwards until he came to that copse of trees and had to rein the animal back in order to manoeuvre in amongst the underbrush.

Once inside the cover of the trees, Wheat turned his horse to the left and pushed him onwards as quickly as he dared in this tangled footing. His horse responded gallantly, keeping the forward impulsion going, but still turning on a dime when asked to and not hesitating to jump over branches and dead-fall whenever such things were in their way.

Finally Wheat was satisfied with his position, and pulling the horse to a halt, he dismounted and tied the animal to the branch of a tree. He then grabbed the second rifle out from the sheath and got himself leaning up against another tree that was big enough to hide him, but still give him an excellent view of the open ground before him.

If the posse stayed following his trail then they would have to gallop right past Wheat's hiding place and that was exactly what he wanted. It didn't take long either. Within seconds of him getting set up, he could start making out individual horses and riders in amongst the cloud of dust. The pounding of the hooves and the snorting of heavily run horses filled the air and announced their arrival as the fugitive lifted the rifle and made ready.

Wheat was able to spot Morrison almost right away. He wasn't a hard man to spot, considering that the only other man in the group who was bigger than him was Mike, and Wheat wasn't interested in Mike. The outlaw cocked the hammer, got the marshal in his sights and pulled the trigger. But just as he did that another deputy moved forward and inadvertently took the bullet for his boss! He jerked slightly and fell from his horse and that animal, slightly panicked without any guidance now from above, bucked and veered away.

Fortunately the horses coming up behind had the presence of mind to jump over the fallen rider and that man was able to roll clear of the hooves and avoid being trampled. He stayed down though—he knew he was a sitting duck where he was and the closer he stayed to the ground the less likely he was of getting another bullet headed his way.

Wheat cursed his bad luck and quickly cocked the rifle again and took another shot before the posse had time to react! It was too quick though and his aim was off. Morrison's horse went down in a tangle of flailing hooves and loud bellows of protest while the marshal himself was thrown clear only to scramble back to use the downed animal as cover.

The remainder of the posse members pulled their horses around and in an instant every rifle was aimed at the trees and a barrage of bullets exploded into the foliage, zinging and pinging and thumping into the leaves and woods! Wheat's horse panicked and pulling back from its tethering began to buck and plunge in its effort to break free and run away from the deadly assault. Fortunately Wheat had tied him securely and the horse had been unable to pull away. Also fortunately, none of the bullets found a target and everyone continued to breathe at least for the time being.

Wheat had wisely ducked in behind that big trunk while the bullets were coming at him and he could have sworn that he felt the tree shudder as the missiles thunked against it and became embedded in the wood. When he turned back around, rifle at the ready, he cursed again as he noticed four of the deputies had broken away from the group and splitting into pairs were manoeuvring around to out flank the outlaw and pin him down.

Wheat sent bullet after bullet firing towards the pair to his left, hitting one of the lawmen in the arm and then taking down his horse. The animal bellowed with indignation at being knocked off its feet and then as the rider kicked himself clear, it got its legs under itself again and scrambled up. Then with head and tail held high and reins flying out behind, it galloped off a few hundred yards before stopping and turning to see what was going to happen next!

In the meantime the de-horsed deputy was laying low, clutching his broken arm and looking for any kind of dip in the ground to roll into for cover. He needn't of worried though cause Wheat wasn't paying him any attention—he was firing more shots after the second horseman, hoping to bring him down before he reached the cover of the trees. No such luck. Horse and rider disappeared into the foliage and would soon be making their way back to where the outlaw was positioned.

Wheat then swung the rifle to his right, just on the outside chance that the other two were still in the open for easy targets. Wheat cursed again. They were gone from sight and Wheat knew that he had better move and move fast or he was going to be trapped. Then just as he was moving away from the tree he heard the rifle shot and then he got punched so hard in the left shoulder that he was sent sprawling face first into the greenery.

He began swearing a blue streak at this point, knowing that he had been hit again, but a lot worse this time. His collar bone was broken and the pain was so bad that his whole left arm was numb and on fire all at the same time. He forced himself to his feet and leaning awkwardly against the tree again, he swung the rifle up and supporting it along a branch, fired shot after shot towards Morrison and the two wounded deputies who had all taken refuge behind the marshals dead horse.

The rifle emptied and Wheat flung it aside, feeling like he was going to faint but knowing that he had to get out of there. He had to get to his horse before it was too late and they had him boxed in.

"Give it up Carlson!" He heard the marshal yelling at him. "You got nowhere else to go! You haven't actually killed anyone yet! Be smart! Give it up before ya' do something you could be hanged for!"

Wheat snarled at having to listen to that bastard's voice. The idiot still hadn't figured it out—that Wheat had no intentions of getting out of this alive. He only had one goal—one focus and he was not inclined to give up on that just yet.

He made another attempt to get to his jittery horse, and actually made it this time. Adrenaline was all that got the second rifle back into the boot and himself up into the saddle. Then he almost found himself back on the ground again as shots came at him from deeper inside the woods! The deputies had made it around to flank him and they had cut off any retreat he might have been able to make in that direction. He was beyond cursing now! With his left arm practically useless, he swung his horse's head towards the open landscape and booted him forward!

The pent up animal lunged forward and digging in with it's hind quarters, they burst clear of the foliage and headed at a full gallop straight towards the three men hiding behind the dead horse! Suddenly it was the three lawmen who were yelling and cursing and scrambling to meet this unexpected assault! By the time they got over the surprise and had their rifles ready to shoot, the horse was upon them and the three men instinctively ducked as the large animal rose up and tucking it's legs, leaped over the human obstacle. The horse landed with a grunt and then spraying the grounded men with dirt from its powering hind feet, took off at a gallop again to head off across open country.

By this time the three mounted deputies had come charging out from the copse of trees and were firing their rifles after the escaping outlaw. Fortunately for Wheat the chances of anybody firing a rifle at a moving target from the back of a moving horse and actually hitting the mark is practically nil and Wheat galloped on, his horse's hind feet leaving little puffs of dust behind him as they went.

The three horsemen reined in their horses by their boss, but by this time Morrison was fuming and with an angry gesture he yelled them on.

"GO GET 'EM!" He was practically bellowing at them. "I want that son of a bitch's head on a spike! GO RUN 'EM DOWN!"

Well they didn't need any more encouragement then that, and with big Mike leading the way the three men took off at a gallop after the disappearing speck.

"DAMMIT!" Morrison cursed again in his frustration. "Who would have thought that some two bit dirt outlaw like Carlson would be giving us so much trouble! Damn him to hell!"

Jack and Karl sitting in the dirt and nursing their wounds, made no comment.

Half an hour later there was still no sign of the depleted posse's return. Morrison had done his best to tend to the injuries of both his deputies, and fortunately neither man was wounded very badly, just hurting that was all. At this point the sun was high and getting pretty hot out there in the open, not to mention the flies buzzing around the dead horse were beginning to get irritating. To a man, all three decided it would be a lot more comfortable to move into the shade of the trees. So picking up what supplies they could from the dead animal they headed for cover.

It was close and muggy inside the woods, but it was still cooler than sitting out in the open sun and everyone settled in to await the return of their compatriots, hopefully with a prisoner or a corpse in tow.

Twenty minutes more of waiting and Morrison spotted a dust trail rising up into the air and hoped that it was the deputies returning, but as the cause of the dust got closer the marshal grunted in disappointment. It was only the two loose horses deciding that their best chances for survival lay with returning to the men who fed them, even if they did on occasion, get shot at.

Still, Morrison surmised with a sigh, they were going to need those horses so it was a good thing that they had decided to return. Leaving his rifle with the injured men, he walked back out towards the returning equines in order to catch them up and bring them over into the shade.

The marshal approached the horses slowly, not wanting to spook them off again and though they blew a little bit and tensed up at his arrival, they allowed the human to snatch up their trailing reins and be taken back in to servitude once again. But then both horses did spook and jumped away from him, trying to break loose and Morrison grabbed onto the reins even tighter. Next he heard Jack and Karl shouting at him and then gunfire from their six-shooters that caused the lawman to look around to see what all the fuss was about.

He just barely had time to see a third horse coming barrelling down on him at a full gallop and the angry, snarling expression on the face of the wounded outlaw before the horse ploughed into him and sent him sprawling! The two riderless horses jumped away from him and got themselves out of there—again, while Wheat hauled on his horses mouth to slow him down and turn him back around. Wheat wasn't finished yet.

He sent his horse back towards the marshal. Totally ignoring the bullets coming at him from the two wounded deputies, he charged the fallen man just as Morrison was scrambling back to his feet and pulling his revolver out for use. Wheat came on. He dropped the reins and pulled his own revolver and his horse stayed true to it's line and continued straight at the marshal. Both adversaries took their shots at the same time—point blank and neither one missed their mark.

Morrison took the bullet in the lung and went down again, coughing blood. Wheat took his to the right upper chest, ploughing through his shoulder and lodging itself against the inside of his shoulder blade. He dropped his revolver and grabbed onto the saddle horn as best he could, desperate to stay on while his horse, free from guidance joined up with the two loose animals and all three took off at a gallop across the open landscape.

The two deputies were running towards their boss, shooting their revolvers as they came. With their injuries neither one were capable of wielding the rifle so they did the best they could with what they had. Then at the same time, the small posse, that had trailed the outlaw in a full circle to end up right back where they'd started from, came bursting from the trees and went charging after the yet again escaping fugitive.

Wheat was hanging on for all he was worth. He had no control over where his horse was going, but a full gallop anywhere was better than the alternative. He couldn't hear the revolvers shooting at him, but logic told him that they were and he just hoped to goodness that they wouldn't find their mark. Then he did hear rifle fire joining in on the assault and then again, felt himself get punched in the back! He fell forward against his horse's neck but still managed to hold on despite the pain and the struggle now, to breath.

The rifle fire continued behind him and it wasn't fading away so Wheat knew that they were still trying to run him down. One of the loose horses beside him stumbled and went down in a jumble of kicking legs and flying dirt, but Wheat carried on knowing that the horses had smelled water and were actually heading for the river that he knew was out there just waiting for them.

The small posse continued on the outlaw's tail, determined to ride him down. After the first mile or so, they had stopped firing at him. It was just a waste of bullets anyways since they knew the man had been hit several times. All they really had to do now was stay with him and simply wait until he collapsed from blood loss.

Wheat carried on. He knew he was getting weaker, those last two hits were serious and he was losing blood at a dangerous rate but he was determined not to stop, not give in to those bastards. He knew where he was going, he knew this country like the back of his hand and he didn't even have to think about it.

He was able to keep his horse going true and the landscaped began to change to more rolling hills and greenery and soon he was hidden from sight and into the blessed coolness of the trees. He could practically smell the water on the breeze and the horses needed no encouragement to stay at a steady gait and headed towards it. The loose horse was trotting on ahead, himself eager for a drink and knowing that they were getting close.

After what seemed an eternity and with his body getting weaker and his brain becoming fuzzier by the minute, the small group finally made it to the river's edge. Oh it was so nice here, so cool and refreshing. The gentle breeze was rustling the leaves and the peaceful river was gliding by, lapping up against the rocky shoreline and the outlaw felt so weak and dry and thirsty and the river was so inviting.

He wasn't really feeling pain anymore, just a quiet serenity, an acceptance of what was to come. He leaned forward against the horse's neck and with some effort managed to bring his right leg over the cantel of the saddle and then slid down to the ground. His legs couldn't support him though and he ended up on his knees and then before he knew it he was face first and flat out on the rocky flood plain of the river bank.

His horse nervously stepped away from him and then went to join his companion in a much needed drink from the river while Wheat stayed where he was for the moment, trying to convince himself to move. Then both horses, their mouths still full of water, shot their heads up and with pricked ears looked back the way they had come. Wheat knew the posse was catching up with him and would probably be there at any moment. That knowledge itself gave him incentive to move since there was no way he was going to give them the satisfaction of being able to take his body in for the reward.

Through a haze over his brain and a buzzing in his ears, he dragged himself up to his hands and knees and pulled his resisting body to the river's edge. He didn't even hesitate at that point and continued on into the water and it felt so cool and so nice and then the current took him and he relaxed in the embrace of the river and he drifted away.

"I suppose you've heard the news?" Curry asked his cousin.

Heyes nodded. "Yeah. Kenny left me the article in my cell the other day. The mood around here hasn't been too jovial I can tell you. Carson's constantly glaring at me like it was my fault."

"Yeah well, any excuse I suppose." Kid hypothesized.

"Yeah."

"How's Kyle taking it?"

Heyes creased his brow and shrugged. "I don't know." He admitted. "I'd have thought he'd be more cut up than he is. I mean, he's looking sad and going through all the motions, but it's like it's just an act. And you know Kyle never could hide what he was feeling. Kinda makes me wonder if he knows something we don't."

"What? Ya' mean like maybe Wheat's still alive?" Kid asked incredulously.

Heyes shrugged again. "They never did find his body."

"Yeah I know Heyes, but from the amount of blood that was on the horse and along the river bank, Mike figures he got shot up pretty bad." Curry informed him. "It just don't seem too likely."

"Hmmmm." Heyes didn't sound totally convinced. "How's Morrison? Still breathin'?"

"Yeah he is." Curry admitted with a slight tinge of regret in his tone. "But they weren't able to get the bullet out—too risky, you know."

"Yeah."

"Eventually he may cough it up on his own, but in the mean time he's sure not gonna be riding out after any more outlaws." Curry predicted. "Wheat accomplished that much anyways. He took that bastard out of commission and that was no mean feat."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. Then he smiled. "Good ole' Wheat. Showed us all up didn't he. In the end he was the one who got the job done."

Curry just nodded and they sat in quiet remembrance for a moment.

"I rode up to the spot." Kid admitted. "The area by the river where Mike said they lost him. You know it Heyes, that spot where the river runs wide and there's that bit of a flood plain that gives easy access to the water at this time of year. We'd often stop to water the horses there on the way back from a job."

"Oh yeah." Heyes nodded. "Yeah, that's a nice spot."

"So, I just went there to pay my respects, you know." Kid continued a little self-consciously. "I just felt like I needed to and to thank him for doing what we hadn't been able to do. I guess I was there for about half an hour, just taking in the peacefulness of the place and then I heard that high pitched screech from up above. I looked up and saw five bald eagles way up there, you know—just casually circling the area. One of them let out that screech again and I felt a shiver go through me.

"It was like, well almost like a tribute ya' know? Hank, then Charlie and Preacher, then Lobo and now finally, Wheat. Then one of them broke away from the group and flew off in another direction and I kinda thought that was odd. But now after what you say about Kyle's reaction, it does kinda make me wonder..."

Heyes was smiling at him. "Gee, are you starting to get all sentimental on me here, Cousin?" He asked. "Starting to believe in signs?"

Curry laughed. "Naw." He declined. "I never did go for that sort of stuff. It always seemed to me to be an awful lot of pressure to put on a bird. I figure he just got hungry and went off hunting. But still..." He shrugged. "It was weird."

"Hmm, coincidence." Stated the forever cynic. "Still, nice to see the eagles like that, circling over Devil's Hole. Kind of a nice send-off for the boys."

"Yeah."

"How's Mike doing?" Heyes asked. "I wonder about him sometimes; running with Morrison is gonna get him killed one of these days."

"No, he's fine." Jed assured him. "He wasn't one of the deputies who got injured."

"That's kind of a surprise." Heyes commented. "Considering how big he is, you'd think he'd make an easy target."

"Yeah, but Wheat wasn't after anyone other than Morrison." Kid explained. "The three deputies who were wounded were just accidental, you know. Jack got hit though, but he's gonna be alright. Broken arm, but he'll survive."

"Oh that's good." Heyes seemed relieved. Aside from the fight at the Jordan's ranch the day of their arrest, Morrison's deputies had always treated Heyes fairly well and he would have hated to hear that Wheat had actually killed one of them. "Although." Heyes continued as he contemplated the situation. "If Wheat is still alive he better remain 'dead' or the law is really going to be after him with a vengeance now. They'll up his reward and then every lawman and bounty hunter will be trying to collect on it."

"Yeah, and we both know how much fun that is." Curry commented dryly. "If Wheat is still alive I'm hoping he'll do what I told him to do in the first place; get out of the territory and stay out!"

"He's not gonna do that, at least not permanently." Heyes predicted. "Kyle's gonna be getting out of here soon. If anybody deserves an early release it's going to be him. I'll bet you my lucky coin that Wheat's gonna hand around and wait for him—join up again."

"You still got your lucky coin, Heyes?"

"Well, no." Heyes conceded. "But that's beside the point. It's the thought that counts."

"Uh huh."

Heyes smiled then conveniently changed the subject. "So...any news from home?" Heyes asked with a hopeful glint to his eye.

"OH! Yeah! Jeez, how could I forget that!?" Curry brightened up. "Yeah, Karma had her foal. Beth wrote ya' a letter all about it. I left it with the guard out front there and hopefully you'll get it this afternoon."

Heyes grinned. "Good! I'll look forward to reading about it."

"Yeah. I'll leave it for Beth to fill ya' in. All's good though, everybody's fine."

Heyes was still grinning. "Good. How's everyone else doing? Belle and Jesse are alright? And the girls?"

"Yeah, everyone's fine." Jed assured him. "Jesse and Belle send their regards. Even JJ says 'hello'."

Heyes actually laughed a little at that. "That's good. I guess he's getting pretty big now isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's growing alright." Jed confirmed. "He's gonna be out there riding drag before too much longer."

Heyes laughed again. "Better him than me!"

It was a relief to see his cousin smiling again. Heyes had been down for so long this last time that Curry had wondered if they were going to be able to bring him out of it. But Heyes was nothing if not resilient and he seemed to be making his way back to the surface. He still wasn't his normal high energy self, but at least he wasn't wallowing in despair anymore.

Curry had been afraid that the news about Wheat would bring his friend down again, but it didn't seem to have done that. Of course if Heyes was thinking that Wheat was still alive somewhere, somehow then he wouldn't be mourning his loss just yet anyways. Curry hoped that Heyes was right. He did have a point, the outlaws body had not been found and Kid knew from their own experiences that stranger things had happened. Still, he wasn't holding out too much hope.

Kyle was the one who would be taking it the hardest and it might just be that he couldn't accept the loss of his friend and partner, at least not yet. It was a hard thing to do, accept the loss of a partner. The Kid had faced that possibility more than once and it never got any easier. It had only been sheer luck that he'd never had to accept that event as fact—at least not yet. Curry sighed to himself. Again; time would tell.

"Anything else happening?" Heyes interrupted Kid's musings. "What about Sam and Maribelle? Have they come to see Sister Julia yet?"

Kid's jaw dropped in surprise and he found himself speechless for a moment. He hadn't even intended to mention Sam to Heyes for fear of what his cousin's reaction would be, but then to have Heyes actually bring it up himself was totally unexpected. Made him think that maybe Kenny was right about Heyes finally making some progress.

"Ah, yeah..." Kid stammered. "Yeah, actually they're over talking with the Sister right now. They seemed to be getting along quite well when I left them to it. I have a feeling it's all gonna work out fine."

"Good." Heyes nodded. "It'll be a good break for one of those youngsters and I suppose Sam and Maribelle will do alright as parents. I'm hardly the one to be judgemental about that."

"Yeah, well—it's just the way things worked out Heyes." Curry commented. "For both of us."

"Yeah. I suppose."

"I'll keep ya' up to date on what happens. OH, but then you see Sister Julia more often than I do." Kid observed. "She'll probably let ya' know."

"Yeah."

Kid sensed Heyes' mood starting to dip again.

"Ya' going to services again Heyes?"

"Naw."

"What about those new words?" Kid asked hopefully. "I haven't gotten any from you lately. Are you still doing that?"

"Naw."

Curry sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Why not? I thought you were enjoying that."

"Well, yeah I was." Heyes shifted a little uncomfortably. "I guess, I just started getting bored with it."

"Oh."

"Doc Morin's keeping me busy though."

"Oh!" Curry perked up. This sounded promising.

"He's been giving me some of the higher end medical books to read now and some of them are pretty challenging." Heyes showed some enthusiasm for his topic. "Looking at strange diseases and conditions of the brain and all that. I never would have thought that the human body was so fragile and could have so many things go wrong with it. It kinda gives ya' a different slant on things, ya' know?"

Curry grinned. "Yeah. That's good. Nothing like another point of view!"

Heyes nodded with raised eyebrows. Then he changed the subject.

"How are Belle and Jesse? They doing alright?"

"Yeah, they're fine."

"And JJ? He's okay?"

"Yeah, they're all fine Heyes. Why do ya' keep asking?"

Heyes shrugged. "Ah, I've just been having weird dreams lately." He admitted. "People I care about being pulled apart by ropes, or trampled by horses. I even had a train run me down the other night. It was weird! It was like, no matter where I ran or how many twists and turns I made, the tracks followed me and of course the train was following the tracks until I finally got pulled down under the engine."

Kid grimaced. "All those trains we robbed coming back to haunt ya'."

"Hmm, and doing a good job of it too." Heyes agreed. "Ole' Mr. Davis is getting fed up with me screaming in the night. Kinda gets the other inmates upset you know. Can't have that."

Jed turned serious. "Jeez Heyes, you having nightmares like that on a regular basis?"

Heyes shrugged again and looked at the empty space just above the Kid's left shoulder. "Yeah, well. Comes with the territory I suppose." Then he smiled and looked Jed in the eye. "Don't worry about it Kid, I shouldn't have mentioned it. The Doc is gonna give me something to help me sleep, so—all's good."

"Yeah." Kid commented somewhat dubiously. "Still, I..."

"No Kid! Listen, I told ya'...don't worry about it!" Heyes insisted rather forcefully. "Geesh! Now you're gonna turn into a mother hen, aren't ya'? I shouldn't have said anything."

The two men sat quietly for a few moments. Yeah, Heyes was definitely in a mood again. What a bronco ride—up and down. Jed just never knew who he was gonna get when he came for his visits, or even who he was gonna get within the same visit! Case in point; Heyes was grinning at him now, that old sparkle back in his eye.

"You and Beth staying honest?" He asked mischievously. "It's been awhile since..."

"Yeah Heyes we have!" Jed cut him off. "It's important, we have to."

"Okay." Heyes conceded. "That's good I guess."

"Well yeah." Curry looked a little embarrassed. "That first time, well it just happened—but it shouldn't have. I should have been more in control and I'm gonna make sure it doesn't happen again! I didn't feel guilty about it right away, but as time went on and it really sank in what we had done, then yeah, I started to feel bad. After all that Jesse and Belle have done for us and that's how I thank them?That wasn't right.

"I donno Heyes, I think you and I are just so used to taking whatever we want without giving any thought to the consequences or how our actions might end up hurting other people that we just don't even think beyond the act itself. But then I did start to think about how Jesse would feel if he found out about that. He would have felt betrayed. And he would be right—it was a betrayal. He was trusting me and I blew it.

"Then I started thinking about what happened between you and Abi and how all it took was the two of you up in Devil's Hole over that weekend, and...I got real worried then Heyes, I gotta admit. I was walking on eggshells for a good couple of months there just waiting for Jesse to come after me with the shotgun! Thank goodness nothing happened—but I'm sure not gonna put either one of us through that again!"

"Yeah." Heyes commented sadly, his expression and mood dropping down into the deepest depths again.

"Aww Heyes, I'm sorry." Jed was truly contrite. "I didn't mean to bring that up and throw it in your face. It's just...my situation brought it to mind is all."

"Yeah, I know Kid. It's alright." Heyes tried to brighten himself up. "What happened, happened. Nothing we can do about it now."

"I know, but still..." Kid sighed. "Abi doesn't blame you, ya' know?"

"Doesn't she?"

"You know she doesn't." Kid insisted. "There's a lot more to it than that."

"Yeah Kid, I know. You're right." Heyes conceded. "And you're right about you and Beth too. Best to play it safe." Then Heyes grinned, his dimples putting in an honest appearance. "And you are right about another thing! She is awfully young. She might come to her senses and realize that she don't want you after all!"

Kid sent him 'the look', but it was backed up with relief. If Heyes was teasing him about that then he was at least trying to pull himself up and be in better spirits.

"Thanks for your support there Heyes." Jed threw back at him. "Always knew I could count on you to back me up."

"Uh huh!" Came the cheeky response.

Then Kid couldn't help it and he broke out laughing.

Sure enough when Heyes got back to his cell there was a letter sitting on his pillow waiting for him. He smiled in anticipation, looking forward to hearing news about his favourite girl and of course to hear things from Beth's joyous descriptions was always a treat. It was too nice a day to sit inside though, so Heyes snatched up the letter and made his way outside and into the yard.

He paused for a moment when he reached the bottom of the steps and took a quick look around, taking note of who was there and who wasn't. Ames and Kyle were walking around the parameter and minding their own business. MacKenzie was over by the fence, but no sign of the other two so that was maybe a good thing. Ohhh, Thompson. Ever since Heyes had broken his collar-bone he'd been looking for any excuse to make Heyes' life miserable. Oh well, since when was that new? Heyes would just keep an eye on him.

He looked around to the bench that was in the little alcove under the steps and was relieved to see it unoccupied. He went over and sat down, getting comfortable and leaning into the corner while bringing one knee up to support his arm while he read the letter. Yeah. News from home was always a welcome treat and news about Karma only made it better.

_Dear Hannibal;_

(Heyes felt a slight twinge of disappointment at that address. Ever since the hearing both Beth and Bridget had started calling him by his legal name and though he didn't really mind, it just seemed like it was one more thing that had disappeared from his life. One more innocence lost.)

_I know that Jed is going to be bringing this letter to you, so I'm sure he has already told you that Karma's second foal is on the ground. He promised me that he wouldn't say anymore than that though so I am going to carry on here on the assumption that he kept his word!_

_Karma had an easy time of it this time, probably because she had already been through it once before and knew what was going on this time. It was almost as though she was looking forward to her new foal and couldn't wait to push him out into the world so that she could meet him!_

_Oh yes! Papa was right! She did have a colt this time! And what a big beautiful boy he is! He's almost an exact copy of his mama! He's that same dark liver chestnut, which I know is not that common a colour because I sure don't see it very often—and he has her same lovely white socks on his back feet. The only real difference is that he has a full (but not too wide) blaze on his face, whereas, Karma has the star and snip._

_He really is gorgeous, with all the quality that Daisy had promised and Oh! You should see Papa! He was so thrilled to finally get his colt! He hasn't stop grinning from that day to this! I can't wait for you to see him, Hannibal as I'm sure you'll be impressed—and with Daisy too of course! She is getting to be quite the handful and is really giving Sam a learning experience in getting her to mind her manners. It's not that she's mean, or stubborn and certainly not stupid! But she has a very ironic sense of humour and tries to pull one over on Sam whenever the opportunity presents itself!_

_Not to brag or anything (well, maybe a little) but she is totally different with me and will do anything I ask her to so long as I ask her in a way that she understands. That is so often the challenge, isn't it? With animals, it's not that they're stupid or that they don't want to please you, it's just that it's up to us to learn how to ask them and that's where things can get difficult._

_Perhaps if Sam asked her differently, he might get a better response from her, but I have no idea what 'different' is. Hmm, I'll have to do some research on that! But then Daisy and I do have a special bond, much like you and Karma do. Karma will let others handle her and ride her and I know she does like me as well, but she will always be your horse._

_Jed tells me that Sam and Maribelle are thinking of adopting one of the children at the orphanage and I think that is a wonderful idea. They were both so heartbroken over not being able to have children of their own and once Jed mentioned it, it seemed like such an obvious solution to their predicament. Jed even kind of hinted that once we get married that, as well as having our own (God willing) perhaps we could look into adopting a child as well. I suppose he kind of figures that since he grew up in an orphanage and knows what its like to not have family, well it would be giving something back, wouldn't it? I'm all for it. Why not?_

_Speaking of children, Jay is really becoming quite his own man now. He has somewhere gotten the idea that he runs things around here and is becoming more and more obstinate in demanding his own way! He's also very verbal! I have no idea where he gets that from! Since he has learned how to talk he just doesn't shut up! Of course Jed comments that it reminds him of someone else he knows and I suppose it doesn't take much of an imagination to guess to whom he is referring!_

_Actually Jay and Nathan get along very well and I expect they will grow up to be very close friends. I mean they are very close in age after all and Momma has already given Tricia many of the cloths that Jay has grown out of. It's quite funny actually to see little Nathan trying so hard to keep up with Jay and wearing the same cute little outfits that Jay was wearing himself only a few months ago. A real reminder as to how quickly they grow up!_

_But then look at how quickly Daisy is growing up! It only seems like yesterday that she was a cute little cream puff, no bigger than our new colt and now she is almost as tall as her momma. I wish you could see them Joshua—I mean Hannibal; they both carry Karma's stamp on them which of course means that they are very impressive. _

_I do hope you can come home soon. Another seven years just seems like such a long time to wait—oh I mean for you to have to be in that horrid place for seven more years, not that seven years is a long time to wait for my wedding! Of course it is a long time to wait—but that's not what I meant—oh you know what I mean! We all just miss you so much and we want you to come home._

_I better close off now. Momma sends her best and tells you to stay safe. I'm hoping that Jed will be agreeable to me and Clementine coming out for another visit soon. It would be so nice to see you again. Take care of yourself._

_With much love,_

_Beth._

Heyes sighed and leaned back against the wall. It was always bitter/sweet getting letters from home.

He looked forward to them and would be devastated if they stopped coming, but it still made him feel homesick—that life was just passing him by.

He looked around at his surroundings and wondered just how much longer he would be having to call this place 'home'. Oh damn! Thompson was looking at him. That guard took the broken collar bone incident far too personally and now, adding to that what had happened to Morrison, well Heyes couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive.

The inmate casually got to his feet and headed back indoors. The warm afternoon had suddenly turned quite chilly.

To Be Continued


	30. Chapter 30

Choices

Summer was settling in over Wyoming and life at the prison had also settled into a more relaxed, warmer weather kind of routine. Even Heyes wasn't quite so jittery as he had been during the spring and was doing his best to enjoy the warm days outside as much as he could, knowing that winter makes its bite be known pretty early on. He had checked out the little library that was next to the chapel in the hopes of finding something new to read and he hadn't been disappointed. A stock of used books had been donated to the prison last winter as soon as weather had permitted, but Heyes had been preoccupied during that time and hadn't been down to check on any new arrivals.  
Now, however he was in the mood for some light reading and was pleased to discover one of his favourites had been added to the selections. His face broke out into a soft smile as he pulled 'Life on the Mississippi' out of the shelf and right then and there began to flip though the pages. He was again pleased to find the book intact, and heading back up to his cell, he grabbed his pillow and the last of his cookies from Belle and then made a bee line out to the yard. As usual he did a quick scan of the enclosure and seeing nobody worth worrying about he stretched himself down along the bench under the stairs, and propping his pillow behind his head he settled in to spend the day reading.  
Even though he had read this book before it had been some time and he found himself becoming totally immersed in once again. He was aware of the minor activity going on around him, but everybody seemed to be in a laid back summer mood and nobody was looking to cause trouble. It was just that kind of day. The only thing he was finding annoying was the flies and even then, not enough for him to pack up his cookies and head back indoors—it was just too pleasant out there on the bench. So he continued to read and to munch on cookies and occasionally give a swat at some insect that was getting too brave. Then he felt something really tickle at his scalp and being so busy in his book it didn't occur to him that it didn't really feel like a fly this time. He sent a quick annoying swat at it and it went away for a few seconds, but then being persistent, it came back and tickled him again. He sighed irritably and gave an even stronger swat, this time actually connecting to something very solid.  
He sat up in an instant, preparing to do battle with whoever was antagonizing him just as the fawn snorted in surprise. The tiny antelope jumped away and with the whites showing in its eyes, trotted ungainly back to it's mother. The doe stood there with with her ears flicking back and forth and sending the inmate a rather indignant look concerning his behaviour towards her baby.  
Heyes relaxed his stance and smiled. It really wasn't unusual for the local deer population to find their way into the prison yard, usually coming in through the open front gate while other travellers were coming or going. They had learned that often the inmates would feed them apple cores or some old bread, maybe even a little bit of grain if there was any to be had. The only time it was dangerous was during the rutting season in the fall when the bucks would be antagonistic and had been known to come into the yard and actually charge some of the men, viewing them as competition for the does. But now it was summer and does with their new fawns would often come in to socialize and to accept any tidbits that would be offered to them.  
Heyes sat quietly on the bench and then breaking off a small piece of cookie, he held it out to the small family and made soft clucking sounds to encourage them to come in close again. The fawn stayed close to its mother, and the doe continued to stand there flicking her ears, but gradually the look in her eye softened and she began licking her lips—if deer have lips. Eventually her head came down and she stepped in closer to receive the tasty bit of cookie. Once that was munched down she came in even closer, looking for more. Heyes laughed and spoke to her quietly and then breaking off another piece he held it out for her. While she munched on that, he reached out with his other hand to the fawn, and taking the cue from it's mother, it stretched out it's neck and sniffed the inmate's fingers. Heyes' grin widened as his fingers slowly reached forward and stroked the side of the baby's face. The fawn wasn't sure what to make of that and pulled it's head away at first and started nodding, but then curiosity got the better of it and it came in closer to investigate. After all, mom didn't seem too concerned  
. It wasn't long before Heyes was scratching the fawn's long delicate ears and rubbing it's little neck and then the fawn came in closer and really started to investigate. It nibbled on Heyes' tunic, his fingers that still had cookie crumbs on them, his book, his pillow and then the little tin box, dumping what was left of the cookies onto the ground. Both the deer jumped away at the sudden noise that caused, but the doe was quick to return and using her delicate tongue she commenced to clean up the cookie crumbs from the ground and look around for more. The fawn started to investigate the crumbs on the ground too, but didn't really find them too appealing, still being on mother's milk and all, so it came back to continue investigating the human. Heyes continued to scratch and stroke the baby until the doe had finished with the cookies and decided that it was time to move on. She gracefully turned away and elegantly walked towards the other side of the yard to see if anyone else had anything for her. The fawn gave the human one more little nose butt and then turned ungracefully and loped most inelegantly after it's mother.  
Heyes sat quietly on the bench and smiled after them, then laughed again at the ungainly gait of the fawn doing its best to keep up with mom. Then with a sigh and a slightly disappointed look at the now empty cookie tin, he lay back down again and settled into his pillow to continue with his book. He had to admit that giving up the last of his cookies was more than worth the pleasure of having the deer come over for a visit. The cookies had become kinda stale anyways.  
After lunch, Heyes returned to his cell to find that he had a couple of letters waiting for him. One was from David, which wasn't really a surprise since the two of them had been exchanging correspondence lately. But the other one was from Lom, which was a surprise—that man not being one to write letters unless it was something really important. Heyes settled onto his cot and tore that one open first. Typically, it was short and to the point.

Heyes;

Don't know if you've seen Kid or not, so he might have already told ya'. Anyway, in case he hasn't yet; I'm gettin' married next month. Don't feel like you're missing out on anything as it's going to be a quiet ceremony with mostly just her adult children present and maybe the Kid if he can make it. Just letting ya' know. Hope you're doing okay and staying out of trouble.

Lom.

Heyes sat back and sighed. That was unexpected. Heyes had come to think of Lom as the quintessential bachelor and he had certainly never indicted that he was involved with anyone special. But then Lom never did discuss his personal life all that much and there was certainly no reason why he should discuss it with Heyes. The inmate smiled a little ironically—yeah, maybe he should consider himself lucky that Lom thought to tell him about it at all. It would have been just like Lom to not say a word about it and then have the Kid show up one day to find a woman in residence. Heyes laughed to himself at that thought. He was just about to open up and read the letter from David when he became aware of someone standing at the door to his cell. It was Murrey.

"Convict, follow me."

Heyes frowned, with a little bit of apprehension tightening his gut. Kid had been for his visit two weeks ago so wasn't due again for a while. Lom had written a letter, so who else would be coming? Maybe Steven with some good news? Heyes snorted to himself; that wasn't too likely. Still, Heyes got to his feet and followed Murrey through the prison proper and over to the 'pat down' room. Being in here didn't tell him anything. Whether it be for a visitor or a trip over to see the warden or to the orphanage, all roads began in this room with a body search and manacles. Heyes sighed. At least it was Murrey and not Carson but then Heyes hadn't seen Carson, so he probably wasn't even working that day—thank goodness for small blessings.  
Then with a definite feeling of relief Murrey directed Heyes towards the visitor's room and got him settled into the chair to await his company. The door opened and—oh! It was Kid. Again? Surely Kid hadn't come all the way back to the prison just to tell Heyes about Lom's upcoming nuptials.

"Hey Kid!" Heyes greeted his friend with a smile.

"Heyes."

But then the smile left Heyes' face and he felt a tingle of—what? Some strange emotion; a little bit of fear, a little bit of antagonism, a little bit of 'Oh crap, what am I suppose to do with this?' Sam, looking just as uncomfortable as Heyes was feeling came into the room on the Kid's heels and sat himself down at the table. He couldn't quite bring himself to meet Heyes' steady gaze and then the inmate broke contact and sent the Kid an accusatory look. Kid just shrugged and sat down himself.

"Sam and Maribelle were over this way anyways." Kid explained. "I thought it was about time you two buried the hatchet—and not in each other either!"

"Hmmmm." Came Heyes' non-committal response.

Sam continued to look uncomfortable and at anything other than the inmate. Murrey, sensing the tension in the room, straightened up a little bit and remained watchful. Kid sat back with arms folded, hoping that one of these two antagonist would make the first move towards getting things settled. Since Heyes was the one who had insisted on holding onto the grudge, Kid felt it would be a good sign if Heyes was the one who opened up negotiations. Heyes sat sullenly, staring at the Kid with his mouth drawn into a tight line. He resented being put into this awkward position and with no warming either. Yeah, Kid was really beginning to do too much of his own thinking these days!  
The partners continued to sit and stare a one another—Heyes' expression hard, and the Kid's soft. But there was no doubt as to whom was going to be the more stubborn. Kid was not going to let Heyes go and since Heyes had already been thinking that it was time to let up on that grudge, he consciously decided to put his ego on the back burner and he began to relent. He finally gave a sigh and relaxing his shoulders he dropped his gaze from the Kid and looked over to Sam.  
That young man was still looking very stressed and could not bring himself to meet the convict's gaze. Though Sam still found the ex-outlaw to be very intimidating, he was surprised at how much he had changed. This realization made him feel even more guilty about having been the cause of it and he had no idea what he could say to try and make things better. If only he didn't find Hannibal Heyes to be so masterful, even under these conditions, then maybe he could face the man down and garner some respect from him, but he just didn't have that in him to do yet. Fortunately Heyes finally made the first move.

"I hear you and wife are going to be adopting."

"OH, yeah." Sam answered, relieved that the topic was one that he felt good about. "Ah, yeah. That's why we're here. We had the last of the paperwork to sign and Maribelle is over at the orphanage now, getting them ready for the trip back home."

Heyes brows went up. "Them?"

Sam smiled, warming to the topic. "Yes. We decided on two siblings." He informed the inmate proudly. "We had only planned on adopting one, but we just fell in love with the brother and sister and then thought that, well...we lost two children, so maybe it was fitting that we adopt two. It's going to mean some big changes in our lives, but we're really looking forward to it."

"Yeah." Heyes nodded, then smiled. "That's good. So, Todd and Carol? Those are the siblings you're adopting?"

"Yes." Sam agreed. "Do you know them?"

"Oh yes!" Heyes grinned also warming to the subject. "That's great. I'm sure you'll do real well by them."

"I hope so." Sam answered. "We don't know much about raising children, but my mother is there and she'll help. I sure hope we do good by them."

"Ohhh, I think you will." Heyes assured him. "Even though this orphanage is a palace compared to the one Kid and I were in, there's still nothing better than being in a family with folks who want you. I'm sure you and Maribelle will do fine."

Sam beamed. Curry grinned, relieved to see Heyes rising to the occasion. Then Sam looked a little uncomfortable again, but he was feeling more confident now that conversation had been initiated.

"I'm real sorry, Mr. Heyes." He said awkwardly. "I didn't realize how bad...I mean, my pa was run down and killed by bank robbers and I just...I mean, I thought they were all the same. That none of you deserved any...well, respect, or...regard. But then Mr. Curry almost dying there and now you in this place...it's not what I thought it would be. I mean...you and Mr. Curry ain't nothin' like those men who ran down my pa. And...well, I'm real sorry."

Heyes listened quietly to this awkward apology and felt regretful and almost embarrassed by his continued antagonism towards this young man. Yes, his ego had taken a beating and it was just so much easier and satisfying to be able to blame Sam for the unfortunate turn that his life had taken. But he was finally—finally beginning to see how it was his own self-serving choices that had led him to this end.

"You don't have anything to apologize for." Heyes told him quietly. "You were hired to do a job and you showed real backbone and persistence in completing that job. You didn't push me and Kid onto the outlaw trail, you had absolutely nothing to do with that. Those were our choices and sooner or later we were going to have to face up that. You have nothing to be ashamed of Sam. I'm the one who's ashamed and I apologize to you for putting the blame for my choices onto you."

Sam grinned, relief emanating off of him in waves. Kid smiled. He knew that had been hard for Heyes to say, but after his many talks with Kenny, he also knew that Heyes had to face up to things. He had to begin to forgive if he was ever going to get out of this place—and not end up coming right back in again!

"Thank you Mr. Heyes." Sam said. "That means a lot. Carol and Todd both hold you in high regard, as does Sister Julia so I guess that does mean a lot." Then Sam smiled. "I'm not sure what those two youngsters are more excited about; coming to live with us as part of our family, or having Mr. Curry, and hopefully yourself too, soon—as neighbours!"

"Oh well, I think in the long run having a family is going to matter more." Said Kid. "Me and Heyes are just regular folk after all."

Heyes smiled over at him. "Speak for yourself." He teased.

"Uh huh."

"So, I got a letter from Lom this morning." Heyes commented, changing the subject.

"Oh yeah. Told ya' the news did he?"

"Yeah." Heyes creased his brow. "Did you know he was seeing someone special?"

Kid shrugged. "Well—sorta."

"What does that mean?"

"Well I knew that there was this widow lady who he tended to spend the holidays with." Kid explained. "But when I questioned him about it, he claimed it was nothin' serious. Just someplace to be, you know." Then he smiled. "But I guess it turned serious!"

Heyes laughed. "Sounds like it! You gonna go?"

"Yeah, I thought I would try to." Kid admitted. "Still, he has lots of friends in Porterville so if I don't show up I don't think it would matter much."

Heyes shrugged. "Yeah, still—I think you should go." Heyes suggested. "Lom's done a lot for us over the years. It would kind of be showing respect, from both of us."

"Yeah, ya' think?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Kid agreed. "Maybe me and Beth can go together."

Heyes smiled.

"Sorry, Mr. Curry." Sam broke in on their discussion. "But Maribelle is waiting for us so..."

"Oh yeah." Kid accepted that and then sent a regretful smile over to his cousin. "Sorry Heyes. I kinda knew this was just going to be a short visit, but I thought it was important. I'm glad you two have kinda made amends."

"Yeah, okay Kid." Heyes nodded a little self-consciously. "You were right, it was past time that I let that go. Thanks." Then he smiled over at Sam. "You take care of that new family of yours. It's a good thing—what you're doing."

"Yessir, Mr. Heyes. I surely will." Sam promised and then standing up he extended his right hand for shaking.

"Ahhhmmm..." Came from Curry, Heyes and Murrey. Then Heyes smiled a little sadly, and again as he'd had to do on previous occasions with other visitors, he shook his wrists, rattling the chains. "Sorry Sam, I'm not really at liberty to shake your hand."

"Oh, that's right." Sam looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, Mr. Curry did tell me. I forgot. Sorry."

Heyes smiled and brushed away the apology. "Never mind." He said. "Consider your hand duly shaken. Perhaps one day we can do it for real."

"Yeah."

"I'll see ya' in a couple of weeks Heyes."

"Yeah, okay Kid."

Heading back to his cell to read David's letter, Heyes was surprised at how 'light' he felt. He would have thought that finally accepting the responsibility for his own actions and choices, at least where Sam was concerned would have added a weight to his shoulders, but indeed the exact opposite was true. Heyes felt elated, like the weight of his self-righteous anger at an imagined betrayal had suddenly been lifted from him and he could breath again. Murrey thought it odd that the inmate actually had a smile on his face and wondered somewhat apprehensively what this particular convict was scheming about now.  
This guard had totally missed the significance of the that whole conversation in the visitor's room and therefore was certain that Heyes was up to no good—again. Still, not being quite as interested in the welfare of the inmates as Pearson was, Murrey left Heyes on the work floor and both men went their separate ways. Heyes was just as happy for that since, though he didn't dislike Murrey, he felt no significant connection to him and he trotted up the stairs and back to his cell to read. He settled onto his cot and opened up David's letter.

_Hannibal;_

_Well, as usual I seem to be starting my letter to you with an apology for not having written sooner. I would never have thought that having a child running around the house would take up so much space in our lives. But still it is a glorious space and I wouldn't change it for the world! Nathan appears to be a very happy child and is growing like a weed as they say. Belle and a few of our other neighbours have been generous enough to pass along clothing that their children have already outgrown—and thank goodness for it too! Though of course we have some new things for the little fella to wear, it seems like such a waste of money when he outgrows them all so quickly!_  
_He and Jay Jordan seem to be developing quite the friendship when they can actually get together. Jay always seemed to be drawn to Nathan for some reason, and right from the beginning was always trying to help with his care and feeding and never got bored with entertaining him, even when Nathan was still an infant. Odd, isn't it? How two young children can bond with each other like that and be friends right from the get go. Jed often becomes whimsical while watching them playing together and has commented that it reminds him of his childhood and all the antics the two of you got up to as young boys. Makes me wonder what I've got in store when those two mischief makers get a little older and really begin exploring their options. I have warned Jed not to go giving them any ideas. He responds with a smile that I'm not too sure I like!_  
_Of course everyone in the county are excited about the Jefferies' adopting a child—or I'm hearing rumours now that it might be two children! Siblings. That would be wonderful, not just for the children to not only find a home for themselves, but to be able to stay together. So many times you hear of siblings forced into separation once they lose their parents so to hear of a situation where that is not going to happen is wonderful indeed. It is also a very positive thing for Sam and Maribelle to do. I know that loosing their own children was very hard on them, as it usually is of course. I remember being terrified that something like that was going to happen with us, and now that we do have our little Nathan I can appreciate the pain of loosing a child even more than I did before. But them adopting now is a wonderful thing, turning something negative and painful into something positive and joyous. Those two children are going to be very much welcomed here that is for sure!_  
_On other news, Tricia's cousin Miranda is going to be coming to stay with us for a while. She's been going through a difficult time in her life right now and is just feeling the need to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life for a time. I have no idea how this is going to go as I have never met 'Randa' so don't know if we will get on or not. Of course I will give it my best efforts and hopefully all will go well. Fortunately she has insisted on taking a room at the boarding house in town here at least for now so she's not going to be underfoot._  
_Apparently her late husband has left her fairly well off so affording it is not going to be a problem. Also, Tricia says that she is just as concerned about being in the way here as I am and agrees that getting to know one another on a less strenuous bases would make it easier on everyone. She appears to be a woman processing a certain amount of common sense!_  
_Well, now that the pleasantries have been dispensed with I feel the need to comment on the apparent mood of your last letter. Depressed, hopeless, giving up. Those are the three main impressions that come to mind. I hope that you have been able to pull yourself out of these moods Hannibal and are able to view things with a little more optimism these days. I was furious when Jed told me what had happened to you last winter and I can certainly understand why you would be angry about it. I find it disappointingly incredible that our prison systems still allow for such barbarism within their institutions and that only the rare few are finding it unacceptable. Thank goodness you do have some friends in there who are trying to watch out for you and if you can just stay focused and be patient (I know, I know) you may find things turning around for the better._  
_Jed also said that you are beginning to re-assess your decisions of the past and trying to accept responsibility for them, which can only help you in the long run to grow beyond them and to move on. I hope I am not coming across as sanctimonious here because I certainly don't mean to be. I realize that self-examination is difficult to go through even under the best of conditions, and that your current circumstances are hardly ideal for this type of journey. Yet sometimes we do need to be pushed into the depths of despair before we can even begin to climb back up to the light again. Again, I'm not saying that I wish this on you, I'm just saying that I realize you are going through a very difficult time in your life right now but that you mustn't give up hope. That you must hang on and know that some good will come out of it all at the end and then you will be able to look back on this time and know that you had the strength to get through it._  
_Now I know I'm sounding sanctimonious so I'll just leave it at that before I really start to preach. But please, Hannibal, write me again as soon as you can and let me know how you are doing. And write as often as you want; throw your thoughts at me, give me your ideas. Tell me your fears, your despairs your hopes your dreams. Write them all out and send them to me, let me know what you are feeling. I'll even burn the letters after I read them if that would make you feel more comfortable and you know that you can trust me with whatever you tell me—it will not go any further. I will assume that anything you want Jed to know you will tell him yourself. Whatever you write to me will be between you and me and no one else._  
_Well, except for the guard who reads your letters, I suppose. But I'll leave that up to you to judge. The important thing here is that you don't bottle things up inside, and writing things out is often the best way to really take a look at what's going on and how best to deal with it. Okay, enough of the lecture. Just take care of yourself Hannibal and as usual, eat as much as you can and drink lots of water etc etc. Oh I know, I'm back to being a doctor again, aren't I? Just take care, and write to me as soon as you can._

_David._

Heyes lay back on his cot with a sigh and stared up as his ever patient ceiling. He knew David was right and that keeping things bottled up wasn't a good idea. He had felt better after pouring out his soul in his last letter to his friend. Not that he felt as though his problems were all solved, just that it was a relief to be able to write them all out and then send them away. Almost like letting go. He wasn't one to do that normally—talk about his innermost fears and conflicts but lately he seemed to be doing it more and more. It was as though the confusion and self-doubt that he was dealing with right now was too much for him to handle on his own. That he had been so badly wounded, emotionally and physically that he needed to buffer himself with his friends against a world that he no longer felt safe in.  
That concept alone scared him. He was always the one doing the protecting, he was always the one looking out for everyone else. Oh but there again—that's exactly what Kenny had been telling him to stop doing; to stop putting himself in the position where he had to be in control! Dammit! He just couldn't seem to get it! Another heavy sigh. This self-examination stuff was really exhausting. Hmm, tomorrow was Sunday. Maybe he would go back to services again, it'd been a while since he'd last gone. Maybe Dr. Slosson would have some new words for him to play around with—that would be fun. And some more music. Yeah. Yeah, maybe he would go.  
By the time the work week got under way again Heyes was feeling a little bit better about things in general. He had done everything that he had set himself up to do and had actually enjoyed the services on the Sunday morning and was glad that he had gone. He even wrote David another letter, assuring him that he was feeling better these days—not 100% better, but getting there and that he would indeed, continue to write and to let him know how things were going.  
Down on the work floor his mood was lighter and even Kyle, who tended to hover close by whenever he could, smiled at him and seemed more relaxed himself now that his 'boss' was recovering and getting back into the swing of things. During his day in the laundry room Heyes even caught himself humming. Yeah, maybe things were getting better. Carson was leaving him alone and even Thompson had stopped sending him hostile glances. Boeman seemed to be preoccupied, with what Heyes didn't know and didn't really care. As long as Heyes knew where that inmate and his buddies were at, he really wasn't concerned about what else they might be doing.  
When Heyes arrived in the infirmary for his usual day of work there, even that place seemed to be light and airy and relaxed. Heyes smiled a greeting over to Sister Julia and the novice, Marilyn who had once again joined the Sister for a day in the ward. The young woman seemed to be taking to her duties with a great deal of enthusiasm and was even feeling much more relaxed in the company of the infamous inmate.

"Good morning, Sister." Heyes greeted his friend. "I'm surprised to see you here today, there's really not that much going on."

"Good morning Joshua." Sister Julia smiled at him. "It is quiet, yes. But I thought it would be good practice for Marilyn here and to give her the opportunity to become more familiar with the infirmary without there being too much activity to distract her."

"Ahh." Heyes nodded and then smiled over at the novice again. "Are you enjoying your duties miss? The Sister isn't working you into the ground is she?"

Marilyn gave a shy smile, knowing she was being teased and inwardly enjoying it. "Yessir, Mr. Heyes, I enjoy my work here a great deal." She quietly assured him. "Sister Julia is wonderful."

Heyes flashed his dimples. "That's good to hear. I'm sure you're doing very well."

Marilyn beamed. He had such beautiful brown eyes. Sister Julia sent a knowing smile back at her friend.

"Well now I know you're feeling better Joshua." She said in a mock reprimand. "You're back to flirting with every young lady who comes within range."

"Ohhh, not every young lady, Sister. Just the pretty ones."

Marilyn blushed and dropped her eyes, though the smile didn't leave her face. The Sister laughed and then diverted her young novice off in another direction to get her attention focused on something constructive. Heyes smiled after them and then looked around for the doctor.

"Is Dr. Morin here Sister?" He asked her.

"He was here a few moments ago." Sister Julia answered him. "I'm sure he'll be back soon. He knows you're coming in today."

Heyes nodded and then went over to the counter and began doing an inventory check until Morin returned and gave him something else to do. Half an hour later Morin did return but he brought company with him. Spotting Heyes, he headed straight over to him, bringing the middle aged suit with him. Heyes instantly became suspicious and tensed just a little bit. He was no longer comfortable with meeting new people and would have preferred to not have to deal with anything—unexpected.

"Heyes. This is Mr. Dalton, he's an official from the Board of Directors for the penal system in Wyoming. He wants to have a few words with you and the Sister, if she has a moment." Morin explained. "Mr. Dalton, this is Hannibal Heyes."

"Mr. Heyes, it's good to finally meet you." Mr. Dalton greeted the inmate, holding out his right hand for shaking.

Heyes was taken aback for an instant, but quickly recovered and returned the handshake. It felt awkward, it'd been so long since he'd actually been able to reciprocate a handshake that at first he hadn't quite known how to respond. Sister Julia, having heard herself being referred to quietly made her way over to the gentlemen.

"Oh, Mr. Dalton, this is Sister Julia." Morin introduced her. "She also witnessed that particular incident."

"Sister, nice to meet you." Dalton tipped his head to her and then glanced over at the novice. "Is this the young woman who stopped the assault?"

"Oh no." The Sister informed him. "No, she was not here at that time."

"Oh. So, Mr. Heyes. Would you care to tell me what happened that day?"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea." Heyes commented, feeling a little defensive at this intrusion. "Jeez Doc, do you really think we should be discussing this here?"

Morin shrugged. "I donno Heyes. One place is as good as another I suppose."

"Yeah, but..."

"Rest assured, Mr. Heyes." Dalton put in. "Warden Mitchell is well aware of my presence here and that I am speaking to you about this."

Heyes paled visibly and swallowed. "That's what I'm afraid of." He answered a little sardonically. "This isn't a good idea, Doc."

"Joshua, surely you don't think that the warden would do anything to you now." The Sister asked him. "The Officials are aware of the problems here, if the warden retaliated against you it would only make things look worse."

Heyes sighed anxiously with a slight groan thrown in. The Sister's words made sense, but he couldn't help the nagging doubt that was sitting in the pit of his stomach.

"I assure you Mr. Heyes." Dalton seconded the Sister's opinion. "Now that we are aware of this situation, nothing will happen to you if you speak with us. Besides that, I'm already here. Whether you speak with me or not, Warden Mitchell is going to assume that you did, so..."

Heyes sighed again, feeling as though he was being backed into a corner.

"Is Kenny here today?" He asked the Doc.

"No, not today." Morin informed him. "C'mon Heyes, it'll be alright."

"Yeah, okay." Heyes finally agreed, though reluctantly. "What do you need to know."

"Just tell me in your own words what happened that day." Dalton explained. "Beginning with you going to help the inmate out on the work floor."

"Well, it all started..."

Heyes' optimistic mood of the morning had been crumbled by the visit from the official. He had gone in to great detail about the assault by Carson and Thompson that had taken place there in the infirmary and Sister Julia had confirmed all that she had witnessed. Then Heyes had gone on to describe what had happened at Christmas time when he had gotten into a fight trying to protect his friends and had accidentally struck one of the guards.  
His description of the ensuing punishment, though already known about by this official still caused the man to crease his brow and tisk sympathetically. Young Marilyn had inadvertently allowed a quiet gasp to escape and quickly brought her hand to her mouth.  
For the rest of the afternoon Heyes had continued on with his duties in the infirmary with a quiet dread settling onto his shoulders of what the consequences of that discussion were going to be. He tried to convince himself that it was too late for Mitchell to do anything against him now, since he was already being watched and his previous actions examined. The common sense thing for the warden to do would be to just let things lie for now as any retaliation would look suspicious. Indeed, Heyes hadn't put himself out there any more than any of the other people here at the prison who had been involved with the hearing. So really, what could Mitchell do? Heyes continued to try and convince himself that Mitchell was smarter than that, that there was no way that he was going to try anything now. Surely it would be too obvious. Of course it would.  
But Heyes just couldn't get rid of that knot in his gut. But then as the week continued on and Heyes was once again part of work gangs going outside the prison walls to help raise a barn or to mend fences and nothing untoward happened, he began to relax again. He had actually learned how to appreciate physical labour since even on the hot summer days, it was better to be outdoors and active than stuck inside the prison stuffing cigars. Not only that, but often the ladies of the properties they worked on would come out to offer the inmates water or lemonade and roast chicken or ham sandwiches and after prison fare, this was considered a fine banquet indeed.  
Often Kyle would be a part of the work crews as well so he and Heyes would always make a point of being able to work together. Ames made a point of joining them as well when he could and the three men got along well enough, and even managed to get in a few jibes or comments between themselves without the guards overhearing. Yes, Heyes was back to feeling fairly good again and a little bit of optimism about life in general was beginning to seep into his musings in such a way as to make his days become a little bit more tolerable. If he could convince himself to just take one day at a time and not get caught up in trying to see seven years into the future then it didn't all seem quite so overwhelming and he was able to keep despair on the outer edges of his consciousness.  
Mitchell, much to Heyes' relief was leaving the inmate alone for now and as mentioned before even Carson and Thompson had stopped antagonizing him. The only real fly in the ointment was Boeman. He still seemed to have a lot on his mind for an inmate who wasn't going anywhere and on more than one occasion Heyes had glanced up to find that inmate staring at him. And what was even more disconcerting is that he would often have a slight smile on his face as though he were aware of something that Heyes was not. But nothing would happen and the next weekend came and went without any disturbances or even any kind of suspicious events. Everything at the prison was running smoothly, which in itself should have been a clear warning that everything was just about to go to hell.  
It was Heyes' day over in the infirmary again, and again it was a slow and uneventful shift that he had put in. So slow in fact that he and the Doc were sitting down at the lunch table and enjoying a pot of tea and chatting until such time as Kenny would come over to escort Heyes back to the prison proper for supper.

"No, Joe's doing real well from what I hear." Morin was saying, talking about his nephew. "Sheriff Jacobs is real pleased with him and has suggested that he go and study criminology and make a real career outa law enforcement."

Heyes wasn't too sure how he was supposed to respond to that.

"Most of the law men I know just put on badges and started shooting people." Heyes mumbled, not feeling too kindly towards most lawmen considering the treatment he had received from the majority of them.

"Oh crap, Heyes! Stop being so snarky!" Morin grumbled back at him. "There's more to it than that and you know it. What about that lawman friend of yours who came to see you when you were so sick? And Kenny said he was at the hearing as well."

"Well yeah," Heyes admitted. "But he was an outlaw first Doc, so he still had some honour left in 'em."

"Geesh!" Morin snorted. "I woulda thought you'd be all for getting a different breed of man taking up the badge. Jacobs not a bad sort."

"Yeah, well maybe." Heyes was non-committal. "I've met up with both Doc, the ones who just take up the badge and the ones who actually get an education and get hired on with Bannerman's or Pinkerton's and on the most part they're all just bullies."

"I think that maybe you're viewing it from a somewhat prejudice point of view." Morin observed. "I mean, right here in the prison we run the whole gauntlet of personalities in the guards. Let's face it, Carson, that fxxxing prxxk and Thompson are just outright bullies." Heyes snorted and nodded agreement. "Then there are the other ones like Davis and Murrey who are just here cause they needed a steady job—they do their shifts and go home. Then there's Kenny and Pearson who both actually give a damn about what goes on here. I predict that young Mr. Pearson will make it to senior guard one day and he'll be a damn sight better at it than Carson is I can tell ya' that!"

"Yeah, but there'd have to be a whole lot of changes made to the system before that happened." Heyes predicted. "Otherwise Kenny would be senior guard right now rather than that bastard Carson."

Yeah, sxxt floats alright." Doc grudgingly agreed. "But I don't want to think that the hearing was all for nothing. We gotta start somewhere and I think there'll be some changes made because of it." Then he laughed with just a touch of bitterness. "Maybe not in my lifetime, but…"

Heyes snorted again and with raised eyebrows, nodded agreement.

Then both men jumped as the door leading from the prison proper was suddenly opened with a bang and a bundle of inmates came rushing into the infirmary with one of them obviously in some distress. Heyes and Morin were both on their feet instantly and the Doc headed over to the group to assess the situation while Heyes went to prepare an exam table to lay the injured man on to.  
Not surprisingly, the injured man was Boeman. Apparently he had started a fight yet again and had actually got himself knifed in the gut before the guards could get in there and break it up. The opposing inmate had then disappeared into the throng and nobody could rightly recall who it had been. Boeman's two lackeys, Harris and MacKenzie had quickly moved in at that point to help their buddy over to the infirmary. Carson had given them the go ahead to get Boeman over for medical attention quickly and not to wait for a guard to escort them. Reece would be heading over shortly to retrieve Heyes anyways and could check up on the status of the injured man at that time.  
Nobody waited around for further instructions and the two inmates got their friend over to the ward where Morin was quick to come to their assistance. Morin tried to get a look at the wound right away, but Boeman was in so much pain that he was practically doubled over and would not remove his hands from the injury. The most that Morin was able to see was the handle of the knife sticking out from Boeman's grasp and whenever the Doc tried to move his hands out of the way, Boeman would cry out in such agony that the Doc gave up the effort and directed his two friends to get him laid out on the exam table.  
Meanwhile Heyes was busy getting gauze and bandages and tape and all the other paraphernalia he knew would be needed to treat the wound and bringing them over to the table where Boeman was now lying and clutching his gut in agony. Heyes shot him a quick look, knowing that a gut wound was bad news and that Boeman would very well not survive it. The sooner it got treated the better chances were for survival and that was probably why Carson had sent them over without waiting for an escort. But still, it was an odd thing for the senior guard to do since he was always more concerned about security than about the lives of any of the inmates. Even his favourite. Oh well. The thought passed through Heyes' mind and then was gone again as his focus was needed more on helping the Doc with his patient—even though the patient was one whom Heyes probably would not have shed too many tears over if he'd bled to death. But, as the medical assistant he knew he had to put his personal feelings aside and do his job, and his job was to assist the doctor.

"Heyes, go get me the morphine over in that cabinet—and bring the carbolic acid." Morin instructed his assistant while he tried again to get Boeman to move his hands so he could get a look at the injury.

"Yeah, okay Doc." Heyes turned away and began to walk quickly across the ward to the cabinets in question when he heard Morin suddenly yell out.

Heyes turned and at first wasn't quite sure he was seeing what he was seeing. Harris had suddenly come up behind the Doc and had grabbed him, pinning his arms to his side and then in the same instant, Boeman took the knife that had supposedly been stuck in his own gut and shooting up from the table had plunged it into Morin's gut instead. The doc yelled out in shock and pain and sent Boeman a look of total bewilderment as to why he would have done such a thing. With a strangled "No!" Heyes came running back to his friend, and grabbing hold of Harris he shoved the man out of his way then got his arms around Morin as the doctor slowing sank down to the floor.

"Aww, no Doc!" Heyes was scared to death, pleading with his friend. "No, Doc, no, no no!"

Morin was gasping for air and trying to fight the pain. Boeman had pulled the knife out just as quickly as he had plunged it in and the open wound was bleeding freely and Heyes thought he was going to be sick. It was happening all over again! Morin had grabbed hold of Heyes' sleeve with his one hand while the other was clutching the wound. His breathing was ragged as he lay back, but he fought for control.

"No, Heyes...It'll be alright." Morin gasped, trying to assure his assistant. "It's not as bad as it looks, really….just get me some of that padding….up there to stop….the bleeding."

"Yeah, okay…" Morin's confident assurances helped Heyes to calm down a bit and he looked up to the counter top, searching for the padding. Spying it he grabbed it and brought it down to their level. "Here ya' go Doc."

"Okay Heyes." Morin continued through clenched teeth. "You know what to do…comon'…start thinking. Just…get that padding in there…stop the bleeding. It'll be alright."

"Yeah, yeah okay." Heyes took a deep breath as he focused on what he needed to do. "Sorry Doc. I'm alright."

Morin laid his head back with a deep sigh and closed his eyes. Heyes was still worried and scared to death but at least he was thinking again now. He applied more padding and put pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding. He knew it would need stitching, but he dared not relieve the pressure in order to prepare the needle and suturing thread. Maybe Kenny would be here soon. Kenny would handle this, and then he could help.  
Heyes was dimly aware of the other three inmates moving quickly around the infirmary and he thought briefly how odd it was that Boeman could have suffered a knife wound and yet be up and walking around now as though nothing had happened. He couldn't piece together what was going on here and nothing was making any sense. The only good thing was that the three men were busy with their own agenda and were ignoring Heyes and Morin for the time being.

"Why do we have to wait for the guard?" Mac was complaining, feeling jittery. "Why don't we just go!?"

"Because that was part of the plan!" Boeman snarled back at him. "And besides that we need a guard to get outa here."

"Why!?"

"He's got the keys you idiot!" Boeman retorted. "And don't you think a guard as a hostage might just come in handy!?"

"We need to travel fast and light!" MacKenzie persisted. "Taking a guard with us is just gonna slow us down!"

Heyes gave a sardonic laugh from his position on the floor.

"You jokers are planning a break out?" He asked incredulously. "Just how far do ya' think you're gonna get!?"

"Well that just might depend on you Heyes." Boeman sneered at him. "Cause you're comin' with us."

"WHAT!?" Heyes practically laughed in his face. "There's no way I'm going with you! For one thing I don't think I'd get very far and for another thing there is no way I'm leaving the Doc here to bleed to death!"

"Oh, you're gonna come Heyes. And you'll come willingly." Boeman promised him, with a threatening tone to his voice. "Cause if you refuse to then I'll cut the good doctor's throat and then if we do get caught we'll all say that you planned the whole thing and you killed the Doc. He trusted you; it would have been easy for you." Then Boeman smiled wickedly. "Do you really think that Carson won't believe us?"

Heyes' upper lip tightened over his teeth, his jaw clenching in anger and then he felt the Doc patting his hand. Heyes looked down and Morin smiled weakly up at him.

"Don't worry about it Heyes." He said softly, hardly more than a whisper. "I'll be alright…. Just leave me enough padding to staunch the bleeding….it'll be okay. I'll let Mitchell know…what really happened."

"He's coming!" Harris suddenly announced from his watch post at the door.

MacKenzie quickly got into his position on the opposite side of the door from Harris while Boeman pointed a warning finger at Heyes.

"You keep your mouth shut Heyes." He hissed. "You try and warn him and I'll kill him as soon as he steps through the door—you hear me!"

Without waiting for an answer Boeman moved over to stand beside Harris and everyone waited in strained silence for the guard to walk through the door. An eternity plus thirty seconds went by until finally the door knob turned and the door opened. Kenny stepped through the threshold and the first thing he saw was an anxious Heyes sitting on the floor beside a prone Morin. Kenny instantly tensed and went for his bully club while at the same time stepping back out into the hallway again…but he was too late.  
The convicts made their move. Harris reached forward and grabbing Kenny's right arm yanked the guard back across the threshold and into the ward. Mac stepped in behind Reece and slipped his arm around the guard's throat, squeezing tight to disable him while Boeman grabbed the bully club and then used it to send a hard sucker punch to Kenny's midriff, dropping the guard to his knees. Kenny stayed there, one hand propping him up while the other hugged his gut. He was doubled over and gasping for air. Then Boeman landed a kick to his ribcage that sent Reece sprawling and fighting just to remain conscious.

"C' MON"!" Heyes yelled, angry at the abuse and frustrated at his own inability to stop it. "He's not gonna be any good to ya' if you kill him!"

Boeman glared over at his nemesis but then returned his attention to his cohorts, anxious to get the show on the road.

"Get 'em on his feet!" Boeman ordered. "Bring him over to this door."

Harris and Mac each grabbed an arm and pulled Reece up to his feet, then practically dragged him over to where Boeman was standing by the door which led out into a hallway which led to another door which lead out to the yard. Reece was pulled up to stand straight while Boeman opened the guard's light jacket and searched around for the ring of keys.

"You're not going to get away with this Boeman." Reece gasped out.

Boeman slapped the guard hard across the mouth, splitting his lip against a tooth.

"Shuddup!" Boeman yelled at him. "That was your token warning! One more peep outa you and your kiddies won't have a daddy anymore! You understand!?"

Boeman continued his search, making sure that the guard didn't have any concealed weapons on him and then unclipped the ring of keys and began going through them and trying each one in the lock. He quickly got the right one and the door unlocked and swung open.

"Okay, good." Boeman mumbled, then he walked back to Heyes and grabbing him by the collar started to drag him to his feet.

Heyes resisted, fighting back. "NO!" He yelled. "He'll bleed to death."

Boeman's lip curled. He was getting fed up with this! He grabbed the front of Heyes' tunic with both his hands and hauling the other inmate to his feet; he pushed Heyes back against the counter and then leaned into him. Their eyes locked in an angry glare.

"I told you once already Heyes!" Boeman snarled. "You come with us now—willingly and Morin has a chance of being found and patched up. You refuse to and I will cut his throat here and now and then you'll still be coming with us! Which is it gonna be?"

The two men stared at each other, but Heyes knew he held the loosing hand and he finally broke the standoff and looked almost pleadingly down at his friend. He'd never felt so torn in his life. Morin was clammy and pale, beads of cold sweat standing out on his forehead. He was conscious but his breathing was shallow and rapid. He licked his lips and then looked up at Heyes and smiled weakly.

"It's alright Heyes…you go." Morin gasped out. "Carson will…send someone over soon…lookin' for you fellas…so—it'll be alright. You go."

"Ya' sure Doc?"

"Yeah…go."

"C'mon Heyes! You're wasting time—let's go!" And Boeman grabbed him again and shoved him towards the now unlocked exit door.

"You'll be okay, right Doc?" Heyes kept calling back to him as he was being pushed towards the exit. "I'll be seeing ya' later right? Don't you go dyin' on me Doc, alright? You promise? I'll see ya' later, right?"

And then the group was gone, down the hallway and Heyes' voice was cut off as the door closed behind them and they made their way towards their next locked barrier. Morin groaned and shifted slightly while he added more padding to his wound. Someone would be by soon—he was sure of it.

Along the back hallway, the escapees and their two hostages were making their way quickly and relatively quietly towards the next door. Once they got there Boeman pulled out the ring of keys and again began trying each one until he found the one that would fit. He went through the whole ring without any luck and then, cursing, went through it again just in case he had missed it

"What the hell!" He snarled, turning on Reece. "Why aren't any of these keys working!?"

"Guards don't carry the keys for these perimeter doors." Reece informed him. "It would make it too easy for inmates to do exactly what you're trying to do."

"FXXK!" Boeman cursed again and gave Kenny a hard cuff across the head. "Why the hell didn't you tell me!?"

Kenny shook his head, trying to clear his senses. Heyes held his arm, making sure he didn't fall down again.

Then Kenny sent a scathing look back at Boeman. "You told me to 'Shuddup'—remember?"

Boeman seethed and looked like he was going to strike Kenny again, but then he decided against that and glared over at Heyes instead.

"Okay Heyes." He ordered. "This is another reason I brought you along. Open it!"

Heyes laughed in his face. "What!? I can't open that!"

"Don't play games with me Heyes!" Boeman cautioned him. "We all know about your special talents! OPEN IT!"

"WITH WHAT!?" Heyes demanded. "I don't have any tools with me!"

Boeman snarled and grabbing Heyes by the tunic, pulled him up to the locked door, then he pushed the ring of keys onto him and handed him one of the long slender scalpels they'd snatched up from the infirmary.

"OPEN IT!"

Heyes and Kenny locked eyes for a moment, and then Heyes sighed and knelt down beside the keyhole on the door. He closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath, trying to relax his stressed nerves and clear his head.

Boeman gave him a shove on the shoulder. "Hurry up!"

"Shhhh." Said Heyes, keeping his eyes closed. "You want me to open this then you better let me do it my way."

Heyes sat back on his heels for a moment, taking another deep breath and calmly persuading his body to relax. Then he opened his eyes, and pushing himself back up onto his knees he very gently slid in one of the smaller keys from the ring. He felt his way around in there for a moment and a smile came to his face as he realized that he hadn't lost his touch.  
He applied pressure with the key where he needed it and then carefully manoeuvred the thin scalpel into the opening alongside the key. He licked his lips, cautiously feeling his way and then held his breath and listened as he applied more pressure, then the smile faded and he pursed his lips in concentration. This was a heavy lock, heavier than the one at the Cheyenne Jail House and it wasn't going to be such an easy one to persuade.  
He removed the tools and sat back again while he scrutinized the various keys on the ring, seeing if he could find one more appropriate. He finally chose a heavier key and coming forward again into a more comfortable position he inserted that key and again placed it into position against the tumblers. He knew that Boeman was getting impatient and wanted him to hurry it up, but there was no hurrying a job like this and Heyes did his best to ignore him. Kenny, on the other hand was watching the inmate with intent.  
Once again, he noticed Heyes' hands, those same hands that had so deftly manipulated a deck of cards into doing exactly what the inmate had wanted and now they were coming into action again. Only this time it wasn't just for an innocent game to pass the time; this time it was for real and Kenny was getting just a glimpse into another reason why Hannibal Heyes had been at the top of the 'Most Wanted' list.  
Heyes was no longer aware of scrutiny on any level. He was biting his lower lip in concentration as he felt for the resistance in the tumblers and then sliding the scalpel in alongside the larger key, he began to slowly apply pressure. This was not an easy lock to pick. The tumblers were heavy and didn't want to give to subtle pressure, but the angle was awkward and if Heyes applied too much pressure then the key would simply slide off the tumblers and they'd be back to square one. Indeed, as Heyes gradually did apply more pressure he suddenly lost the contact and what little movement he had encouraged from the tumblers snapped back into their original, locked position.  
Heyes sighed deeply, pulled back for a moment and sat to reconsider his assault. Boeman groaned with impatience and Heyes felt his jaw tighten in irritation but then he forced himself to relax again. Getting into a conference with a lock like this one was going to take calm nerves and a clear head. He couldn't let Boeman or their situation take control. He released another deep sigh, then sitting forward again he inserted the key into the lock and got it into position. This was the third time he had done this so it didn't take him long to find the right location. Once there, in went the scalpel again and made contact with the key.  
Heyes closed his eyes once more and forced himself to block out all outside stimulation, he focused on the lock—he became intimate with it. He coaxed it, stroked it, whispered loving endearments to it and slowly, slowly, slowly applied pressure to it. Then he felt the tumblers give in to his seduction and he allowed himself a hint of a smile. He wasn't there yet, he hadn't quite reached it, but he could feel it building and he knew that he had it. Just a little bit more, just a subtle touch in the right place and he felt the lock surrender to him. There was a loud 'click' from inside the door.  
He grinned even more and removing the tools from the keyhole he reached up and turned the knob. It opened and the door swung wide. Heyes looked up triumphantly at the other four men and found all of them staring at him, almost in disbelief. Truth be known, Boeman hadn't really expected Heyes to be able to do it. Reece had been sure Heyes wouldn't be able to do it. The locks to the perimeter doors were supposed to be 'pick proof'! He was going to have to talk to the warden about getting better locks installed—if they ever got out of this!  
Boeman held up a hand to hold the others in place and then cautiously took a look around the yard area. It seemed quiet enough since by that time all the inmates would have gone back inside and be just settling in to supper but still one had to be careful. Boeman waved them on and the small party made their way out into the yard. It was still light out, being summer time, but it was quiet and Boeman led them all along the fence line, heading towards the gate.  
Heyes and Reece exchanged looks as both of them noticed that the towers were all un-manned. That was very unusual since guards were supposed to be in those watch towers 24/7. Reece shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head, indicating that he had no idea why they were empty.  
Then, to make things even more suspicious, the front gate was not only free from the attention of guards, it was also unlocked. Boeman was still being very cautious and when they arrived at the gate, he very slowly pushed open the heavy wooden blockade and again peered outside the parameter of the yard, making sure that there were no surprises waiting for them. Seeing that the coast was clear, he quickly waved them all through, and with Harris and MacKenzie encouraging the two hostages to make it quick, everyone very soon found themselves outside the prison yard.  
Heyes wasn't sure if he was happy to be out there or not. He had dreamed of the day when he could walk out those prison gates as a free man but this didn't quite live up to expectations. Far from being a free man, he was not only leaving the prison illegitimately, but as a hostage in someone else's jail break. He really wasn't feeling comfortable in this situation at all. Aside from being suspicious of the ease of this breakout and the convenient lack of security right where it was needed the most, Heyes was also very worried about his friend the doctor. Morin had insisted that the wound wasn't bad and that help would come to him soon, but Heyes was not totally convinced of that. Heyes had treated wounds like that before, and though it hadn't appeared to be as bad as the one Lobo had sustained, it was bad enough. Still, Heyes tried to assure himself, if anyone could save the doctor it was the doctor himself and therefore he really couldn't have been left with anyone better.  
Then everyone's head turned at the sound of horses approaching. Sure enough, two light weight draft horses came trotting out from behind an out building, pulling one of the many prison wagons usually used for hauling supplies. Up on the driver's seat was another inmate, someone whom Heyes recognized from the work floor but hadn't really paid enough attention to get the name. It might even be one of the Cripple Creek boys, he would have been new enough. Boeman showed relief at the arrival of the wagon and everyone ushered towards it.

"Hey Warren!" Boeman called quietly. "You have any trouble?"

"Nope." Warren answered, just as quietly. "Wagon was waiting right where it was suppose to be and we got food and water to last us a couple a days at least. Only thing missing are the civilian clothes."

"What!?" Boeman spoke louder than he had intended upon hearing that news. "Dammit! A change of cloths is about as important as the food and water! How the hell are we suppose to blend in wearing prison garb?!"

Warren shrugged. "We got some jackets here." He commented hopefully.

"Alright, fine!" Boeman grumbled. "Let's just get outa here! Everybody into the wagon!"

Heyes and Reece got hustled forward and pushed onto the bed of the wagon with Harris and MacKenzie quickly coming on board behind them. Boeman climbed up on the driver's seat beside Warren and the horses got pushed into motion again. Boeman reached back and grabbed one of the jackets to wear over his striped tunic and then grabbed one for Warren as well. Harris and Mac followed suit. Kenny was already wearing a light jacket and didn't have any need to cover his identity anyways. Heyes was the only one who was left shorted and even though his light summer tunic was almost too much to be wearing in the heat of the day, the nights could get chilly so he knew he could be in for an uncomfortable time.  
Despite the discomfort of the jolting wagon and the uncertainty of their situation, Heyes had to admit that the sunset was beautiful. They had been travelling across country for a few hours now and night was obviously making its move to close in upon them. Heyes and Kenny both kept glancing back, hoping to see some sign of pursuit, though Heyes wondered why that would be much of a concern for him. Did he really want to be recaptured and taken back to the prison? But then, what would his life be as a fugitive and on the run? That's if Boeman even let him live. Hmm. Heyes looked back along their trail again. Nothing was coming.

"Where exactly are we headed?" Kenny finally ventured to ask.

"Shuddup!" Came back the standard reply.

Heyes and Kenny exchanged looks again. Heyes thought that maybe he would give it a try.

"Ahh, None of us have really had anything to eat since lunch." He reminded the man running the show. "Any chance of breaking out some vittles?"

This suggestion was met with silence from the front row. Heyes sighed in disappointment and glanced around at the other occupants. They didn't look too pleased either, apparently everyone was feeling a bit peckish.  
Eventually Heyes tried to settle in more comfortably. Night had closed in around them by this time and he wondered briefly how Boeman and Warren were able to see where they were going. There was a bit of a moon shedding some light upon the trail, but that wasn't much and not necessarily a good thing either. Though it gave the fugitives some light to see by, it would also make it easier for their pursuers to track them down if and when said pursuers decided to come after them. This whole escape was very odd. No guards in the towers, the front gate unlocked? Warren showing up with a wagon all supplied with necessities and nobody apparently in any hurry to come after them. Indeed, Boeman hadn't checked their back trail even once throughout this whole trek, as though he knew that no one was going to be coming after them. That fact in itself was enough to make Kenny and Heyes both very suspicious that this was an inside job. But who? Who would have enough clout inside the prison to arrange this escape? And why?  
And the wagon? Why even use a wagon as the means of escape. Wouldn't that be more cumbersome than useful? After all wagon wheel tracks are about the easiest trail of them all to follow, even at night. Plus it made for slow going. Surely saddle horses would have been faster and not quite as easy to track. Better yet, men on foot could have simply disappeared into the landscape and procured mounts for themselves later on from one of the many ranches in the area. No—none of this was making any sense. Heyes shivered, the chilly night air finally making itself apparent.  
He leaned up against the side boards of the wagon bed, hugging his knees and hoping that he might doze off just a little bit so that he wouldn't feel the cold so much. Fat chance of that, the way the wagon was jostling them all about. The only good thing about this situation was that everyone was being jostled and nobody was going to be spending a comfortable night. Then around midnight, Heyes was surprised to find himself jolted awake from the light doze he had been hoping for when Harris put in a universal complaint.

"Hey, c'mon Boeman." He grumbled. "We got a whole sack full of food here. Don't ya' think it's time we stopped to eat?"

"We ain't stopping." Boeman threw back over his shoulder. "But if you can see enough to pull out some jerky or something, then help yourself."

"Oh, finally." Mac mumbled under his breath while Harris rummaged around in the sack for something that didn't have to be cracked open and heated up.

Eventually he pulled out a package that was wrapped in cloth and then paper and opened it up to find a large portion of corned beef that had already been sliced up into good sized slabs. A little more rummaging produced a loaf of bread and that seemed to satisfy the menu selections. Harris was able to see well enough by the moonlight to pass out chunks of bread and meat to everyone in the wagon, including some up front to Boeman and Warren, though Heyes was pretty sure that he and Kenny received smaller portions than anybody else. Still, it was something to eat and was gladly accepted and then washed down with a couple of swallows of the still warm canteen water and dinner was done.  
Heyes settled back in again and tried not to shiver too much. He leaned his head back and looked up into the night sky and focused his mind on the impossible task of counting stars. He had hoped that it might help him to fall asleep again but instead all it did was open up his mind even more. He found himself wondering, and not for the first time in his life, just what exactly was up there. He knew about the sun and the moon and the stars, but what else was hidden by the dark expanse of nothingness? Some people claimed it went on forever—never ending, but Heyes found that hard to imagine. In fact whenever he did try to grasp onto that concept his mind just went into a tail spin and he'd feel dizzy to the point of having to step back from it.  
Others claimed that heaven was up there, just out of sight. Just out of reach. Well, Heyes wasn't too sure that he believed that either. But if heaven wasn't up there, then where was it? Hmm. Contemplative sigh. Why did his mind have to do this to him? There was Harris and Mac just sitting there and not thinking about anything beyond what Boeman told them to do and they seemed perfectly happy with their lot. Even Boeman didn't lay awake at night worrying about 'what if's', so why did Heyes have to get saddled with a brain that wouldn't stop reaching out and asking unanswerable questions? Why did he have to be so 'blessed'?  
Oh, he was tired. Not just from being awake into this night, but overall tired. Body and mind tired. Exhausted. Life as he knew it just didn't seem worth the effort it took anymore. He was finding himself not really all that concerned about what was going to happen on this little venture. So what if they got away? How was that going to make life any better? So what if the posse that was sure to be on their trail by morning actually caught up with them? Best case scenario is that he would simply be taken back to the prison. Heyes gave a little sardonic laugh to himself. Best case scenario, yeah right!  
The wagon jolted again, hitting a particularly deep pot hole and Heyes was jostled out of his mental meanderings. He sighed. It was still dark and cold. Boeman would have to stop sometime soon in order to rest the horses. Even they couldn't go on forever, especially when the heat of the day would replace the night air and make the open landscape feel like a furnace.  
Then, quite suddenly the decision got made for them when the wagon hit another pot hole and then the same wheel ploughed up against a rock. There wasn't any sound, really—just a mild creaking and then the wagon started to teeter and the next thing they knew, everyone was thrown from their positions as the aforementioned wheel came free from its axle and the back end of the wagon tilted dangerously as the corner ended up in the dirt and ground the whole expedition to a halt. Everyone rolled or scrambled out of the disabled wagon cursing and swearing and swatting at one another for an inadvertent boot in the butt or butt in the face.  
Heyes' first thought as he rolled nose first into the dirt was to wonder how in the world anyone could blunder up an escape so thoroughly, especially one that obviously had support from someone on the inside. His second thought, was how could he use this to his benefit?

"God dammit! What the hell happened back here?!" Boeman cursed as he awkwardly got down from the wagon seat and started kicking scattered bodies out of his way.

"The wheel came off." Was Harris' obvious answer.

Boeman turned in the direction of the voice and would have hit the idiot who had come out with it if the darkness hadn't made it almost impossible to discern one silhouette from another. Instead he just cursed again.

"Dammit!" He spewed while he aimed a totally misjudged kick at the offending wheel, then with hands on his hips he let go a big sigh and tried to calm down enough to consider their options. "Well, it's too dark to try and fix it now. We may as well hole up in here for the rest of the night and see what we can do with it in the morning."

Then Boeman looked around at their surroundings though it was pretty hard to see anything. The fact that the stars were being blotted out in many areas suggested that they were in some kind of a gully with high rock outcroppings scattered around them and that was both good and bad as far as he was concerned. It would make good cover for the fugitives, but it might also provide the same for any pursuers that might come upon them. Oh well, there was nothing for it right now. They could unhitch the horses from the disabled wagon, but still keep them harnessed just in case, and then keep one of the men on watch while the rest got some sleep. That sounded like a plan. Boeman glanced around at the human shapes surrounding him and then suddenly froze.

"There's somebody missing!" He snarled. "Where's that damn guard?!"

"I got 'em." Mac announced. "I fell on top of 'em and knocked the wind outa 'em. He's right here."

"Then where's Heyes?!"

The shapes all looked around. Oh oh. Where was Heyes?

Boeman cursed again—this escape was going from bad to worse! What a bunch of morons he'd brought along with him. He had 'special' plans for that arrogant son of a...and if these idiots let him get away there would be real hell to pay.

"Where's the guard!?" Boeman demanded again.

"Right here." Mac said and pushed Kenny forward.

Boeman grabbed the guard by his jacket and pulled him forward.

"Where the hell did he go?!"

"How should I know?" Reece asked, quite reasonably. "I was busy trying to catch my breath..."

Boeman slapped him hard across the face in his frustration. Kenny, startled by the unseen blow grunted and very nearly went down, but Boeman still had a hold of him and yanked him back up to his feet again. He swung the guard around and tightened an arm across his throat.

"HEYES!" Boeman yelled out to the rocky outcroppings. "I know you can hear me! I'll choke the living daylights outa this guard if you don't put in an appearance, RIGHT NOW!"

Silence. One of the horses snorted. Waiting, everyone searching the silhouette of the rocks around them.

"OKAY HEYES! HAVE IT YOUR WAY! I GUESS YOU DON'T MIND HAVING A GUARD'S DEATH ON YOUR CONSCIENCE!" Then added, almost in a whisper in Kenny's ear. "'Course why should that surprise me." And he started to squeeze.

Kenny tensed and fought against the strangle hold, trying to break free, but Boeman was strong and didn't have any moral conscience hindering his ability to kill. In fact if it had been light enough for the other men to see his face, the expression of malicious glee would have sent chills down their spins. Kenny could feel the blood starting to pound in his ears and his lungs burning for oxygen when suddenly—and finally by some accounts—a silhouette of a man showed itself in among the rocks.

"ALRIGHT!" Came Heyes' voice. "Alright. I'm coming in."

Boeman was almost disappointed; he had begun to feel the rush of squeezing the life out of another man's body. But Heyes was the one he really wanted, the guard would have just been a consolation prize. Boeman eased up on the guard's throat and Kenny gasped in a lungful of air.

"You get down here Heyes—right now!"

"Alright! I'm coming."

The group could hear the scrape of shoes on rock and the clattering of pebbles being displaced as the 'escapee' made his way down to ground level. Then with disappointment written all over what little body language they could see, Heyes walked over to the group and surrendered. When he got up to them, Boeman released Kenny and then shoved him into Heyes and sent both men sprawling into the dirt.

"Tie them up! Hands and feet! And make it tight!"

An hour later Heyes couldn't believe how stupid these men were being. He knew that Boeman wasn't particularly imaginative, but he still seemed to display a certain amount of brain cell activity under most circumstances. But this was just ridiculous! Instructions had been followed and soon Heyes and Kenny had found themselves leaning up against one of the still intact wagon wheels with their hands snugly tied behind their backs and their ankles bound together to apparently prevent them from running off. But other than that they were loose—they hadn't been tied to anything even though the wheel was quite handy and they were left sitting upright, beside one another. Heyes just shook his head at the stupidity of it. Obviously Boeman had never had to deal with prisoners before or having to be creative in escaping being in bondage himself.  
All Heyes had to do was wait for the right opportunity. It didn't really take long either. Leaving MacKenzie on watch for the first couple of hours, the other three men settled in to get some shut eye. Unfortunately (well, depending on your point of view.) Mac didn't have much in the way of self-discipline and within forty-five minutes, his snores could be plainly heard mingling in among the others.  
Kenny and Heyes exchanged glances. Dawn was not too far off by now and with the little bit of glow that the soon to be rising sun was creating on the horizon the two bound men decided that if they were going to make a move, it was now or never. With another quick glance over at the sleeping men, the two prisoners shifted around so that they were back to back and Heyes, who figured that he was the more experienced of the two when it came to untying knots, went to work on Kenny's wrists. Despite cold fingers, it didn't take him long to find the knots and start to work them loose, then as soon as Kenny felt himself free he quickly untied his ankles and then turned around to get Heyes' wrists untied.  
It never occurred to Kenny that he should only untie Heyes' ankles and keep his hands secured behind his back. They were allies in this situation and they both needed to be unencumbered if they were going to get out of this alive. Kenny blew on his hands to try and warm them up a bit and then started to work on Heyes' knots. He finally managed to untie the bonds and leaned over to start on the ankles when a sudden movement caught Heyes' eye. He yelled out a warning, but was too late.  
Mac had been awakened by their movements and sneaking up behind the guard had clipped him a good one on the back of the head with his own bully club. Then again—all hell broke loose! Kenny fell forward across Heyes' legs, groaning and rubbing the back of his head. Heyes reached over and grabbed one of Mac's ankles and pulled the man's legs out from under him, sending him sprawling backwards into the dirt. Then he pushed Kenny off of him and tried to finish untying his own ankles but by then the other men were awake, and assessing the situation in an instant made a concerted rush at the prone group.  
Heyes was completely free by this time and was scrambling to his feet still hoping to make it to the horses, but MacKenzie had also regained his footing and pissed off that he had fallen asleep and allowed this to happen, had strong incentive to nip it in the bud. He ran at Heyes and making a desperate lounge body checked him into the ground and knocked the wind out of him. Gasping to get his air back, Heyes still turned and kicked out at his assailant landing a blow against the man's head. Mac grunted and fell back but didn't stay down and was up and after him again. Heyes tried to get to his feet, but his own body was fighting against him and between the dust and the assault, he couldn't get any air.  
Mac was on to him again pushing him back into the ground and the two men locked themselves into a battle for supremacy. Then Warren joined in and got hold of Heyes from behind, pinning his arms to his side and dragging him to his feet. Mac, his mouth and nose bleeding was really in a foul mood now and he came at Heyes with his fists set to do damage. The first blow got Heyes in the midriff and he doubled over just in time for a wicked undercut to bring his head back up again. Mac was just winding up for another attack when Boeman yelled at him and brought it to an end.  
Mac didn't particularly want to back off, but he did and he and Warren escorted Heyes, none too gently over to where the others were standing. As they got close Warren gave him a shove to bring him up, bloodied and still gasping for air right in amongst the circle of his enemies. Kenny was back on his feet by now looking both dishevelled and disappointed. Harris was holding him snugly, pinning his arms behind his back while Boeman was glaring at all of them. Now that the sun was rising there was no mistaking the look of infuriation on the boss's face. Everybody tried to be looking somewhere else. Then he zeroed in on MacKenzie and that young man started to look decidedly uncomfortable.

"You idiot!" Boeman yelled at him. "You fell asleep!"

"No, I..."

"Don't you dare stand there and tell me you didn't! How else would they have gotten loose!?"

"Yeah but I stopped them!" Mac tried desperately to defend himself.

"And a good thing you did too, otherwise I'd be leaving you out here for coyote bait!" Then Boeman took a deep breath and started to calm down just a little bit. Finally he shook his head and apparently came to some kind of a decision. "I was gonna wait until we got further away from the prison, but I have had enough of this bullxxxx." He pulled the scalpel out of its makeshift sheath and turned towards Kenny with malicious intent. "Say your prayers 'Officer' Reece. Your wife is about to become a widow."

Kenny tensed at that unexpected announcement and instantly started to fight but Harris only clamped down on him tighter, holding his arms back in a vice. Heyes didn't even think, but was on the move instantly, getting himself in between Boeman and his intended victim.

"NO!" Heyes was practically pleading. "No! C'mon now!" He actually put his hands out, trying to take hold of Boeman's wrist, to push him away. "There's no need for this! Besides I thought you wanted him as a hostage!"

Boeman sneered. "What's it to you Heyes?" He asked with a snort. "After the way these guards have treated you, I'd a thought you'd be all for this."

"Hey, look, I wouldn't mind helping you at all to put your head in a noose if you wanted to kill Carson." Heyes explained. "But NOT Kenny."

"Carson—Reece!" Boeman spit. "What difference does it make? They're all the same!"

"Well if that's what you really think then you haven't been paying attention!" Heyes shot back, desperate to save his friend's life.

Boeman stepped back, looking suspicious.

"What's going on here?" He asked. "I know I'd heard rumours that you and the Kid had buddied up with the law, trying to go straight, but I didn't believe them—until your trials!" And he turned and spit into the dust again, showing his disdain. "Then after you joined us in our cozy little home away from home the grape-vine whispered that you were in cohorts with the warden, spying on us. Then I admit, I started to wonder that maybe you were just playing games with everybody.  
"Then I figured it couldn't be—not after the way those guards had been treating you—why would you side with them?" He looked past Heyes now and bore into Kenny. Everyone could feel the tension. Boeman snarled and shook his head. "I thought it was odd that you would give yourself up just now to save a guard's life, but I figured you were just a wimp—didn't want to be responsible for another man's death, even if it was a guard.  
"But now here you are putting yourself in harm's way to protect HIM!? That kinda makes me wonder Heyes, wonder if you're not in the warden's back pocket after all."

Heyes laughed but he couldn't hide the nervousness in it. "You're crazy." He argued. "Why would I do that?"

"I donno Heyes, you tell me." Was Boeman's comeback. "I mean, now that I really think about it, all those times that you got punished for stuff, but you never permanently lost any of your special little privileges did ya'? You still had your day in the laundry room and over in the infirmary. And going to the orphanage—what the hell was that all about?" Boeman snarled for real and then grabbed Heyes by the front of his tunic and pulled him in close. "What the hell have you been telling the warden Heyes? What have you been doing to 'earn' those little privileges?"

"Nothing!" Heyes insisted. "You said yourself that I get punished a lot! And I've got a twenty years sentence hanging over my head—what kind of a cushy deal is that supposed to be!?"

Boeman thought about that for a moment and then slowly shook his head.

"Maybe you didn't make the deal for yourself." He speculated. "How come Kid Curry got off completely? How come you got twenty years and he got nothin'?"

Heyes hesitated. He had never thought about how incriminating that would look. Now that Boeman had seen the pattern, what could Heyes possibly say to him in order to explain why the governor sent Heyes to prison but gave Curry the amnesty. This was getting complicated.

"It was just...politics." Heyes commented, though even to him it sounded lame. "Luck of the draw, it's just the way it went."

Boeman snorted derisively. "Yeah right! I'm thinkin' you made a deal. You agreed to do prison time and be a spy in here in exchange for your partner to go free. All of a sudden that's beginning to make sense. Hell! Maybe you didn't even get twenty years—maybe you only got five as part of the deal and you're just bidding you time and getting in chummy with the guards."

"Oh c'mon!" Heyes was getting frustrated. "After the way Carson and Thompson have been pounding on me?! Why the hell would I want to help any of them?!"

"But you are helping them Heyes!" Boeman pointed out. "You've just put yourself in front of a guard to prevent me from killing him! Why would you do that if you're not working for them?!"

"BECAUSE KENNY'S DIFFERENT!" Heyes yelled in desperation. "And you should talk! You and Carson are practically attached at the hip! Is he the one who set up this escape for you?! Cause it sure doesn't take a genius to figure out that you had inside help with this! You accuse me of being a snitch! What the hell are you up to?!"

Boeman turned red with anger and Heyes wasn't sure if it was because it was the ultimate insult or if he'd gotten too close to the truth. But the result of this accusation was a stunning blow to Heyes' temple that sent him staggering backwards. Again, he would have fallen except that Boeman grabbed hold of his tunic once more and hauling him back up, swung him around and shoved him hard into Mac and Warren.

"HOLD HIM!" Boeman ordered his two cronies.

The two convicts responded instantly, both of them grabbing an arm and holding him in a grip that defied movement. Boeman's eyes had turned cold and hard and he came towards Heyes, holding the scalpel up so that Heyes could see it. Kenny tried to fight himself loose, but Harris tightened his grip and choked the guard back into submission.

"Pull his head back." Boeman ordered.

Heyes began to fight but then he felt someone's arm wrap around his forehead and pull his head back, exposing his throat. Suddenly he felt real fear—that primal, animalistic fear when your most vulnerable area has been exposed to your enemy and you're staring death in the face. Heyes yelled and fought and tried to kick out as Boeman approached him. But Boeman just laughed at him and Heyes' head was pulled back even further until he felt as though his spine was going to snap.

"Oh Heyes I have waited so long to be able to do this." Boeman smirked at him. "You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy it."

"Nooo..." Heyes tried to fight in his desperation but he couldn't break loose. He could hear rather than see Kenny struggling as well because they both knew what was about to happen.  
Boeman came and stood right in front of Heyes and smiled with almost manic pleasure. Then Heyes felt the tip of the scalpel pierce the epidermis just below his right ear. He tried to struggle again, fear clutching at his heart and turning his legs to butter. He heard Kenny yelling and then the yell being choked off. Slowly Boeman began to slide the blade across Heyes' throat, applying just a touch more pressure to push the tip into the dermis to cause blood to start to bead up but not quite enough pressure yet to actually cut into the jugular. Boeman had waited too long for this—he was going to take his time.  
The blade had made a shallow cut right across Heyes' throat and was just about to his left ear when a number of things happened at once. A rifle report cracked through the early morning mist somewhere off to Heyes' right and instantly Heyes was being splattered with blood and bits of brain and bone as Boeman's skull exploded from the impact! Boeman's hand jerked up with the shock, causing the scalpel to cut deep and slice upwards across Heyes' jawline, exposing the bone and nearly taking off his left ear lobe! Heyes and Kenny both suddenly found themselves free as the other three convicts panicked and ran!  
Heyes, his adrenaline pumping now, found his legs again and spun around to face the assault! He saw a posse of mounted men come charging out from behind the rock outcroppings, their rifles out and firing after the fugitives. Heyes felt panic! Everything was happening so fast. His first instinct was to run for cover and to get out of here! His legs were just about to answer to that impulse when he felt a hand on his shoulder and Kenny's voice in his ear.

"Don't move Heyes." He ordered the convict. "Put your hands up behind your head and stand perfectly still. You try to make a run for it now and they will shoot you down."

Heyes swallowed. He was shaking from the adrenaline and his fear instinct was to ignore the guard and run! But his logical mind was telling him to do as Kenny instructed and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip. Heyes raised his hands and laced the fingers behind his head.  
It took hardly a minute for the onslaught to end, but to Heyes it seemed an eternity while he stood there and fought the powerful impulse to run. Only Kenny's hand on his shoulder kept him rooted to the spot as the posse charged towards them, shooting as they came. But Kenny had been right; the posse ignored the two stationary men and focused in on the ones who were fleeing. All three of those convicts were making a desperate run for the two wagon horses and those animals were in a panic, fighting against their tethering in an effort to break away.  
The air was filled with dust and gun smoke and the yells of men competing with the reports from the rifles. The horses galloped passed Heyes, so close that he could smell their sweat and feel the ground shake with the pounding of the hooves. First Warren went down, taking a hit in the head and then two more exploding into his back before he hit the ground. MacKenzie and Harris actually made it to the horses and were able to swing aboard the panicked animals and get them running away from the attack—not a hard thing to do considering that was what the horses had been trying to do all along anyways.  
Then MacKenzie's horse took a hit and it ploughed shoulder first into the ground, sending up a spray of dirt and gravel and throwing Mac into a somersault to land heavily on his back. Then almost instantly both horse and man were on their feet and running after Harris, both wanting to join up with their respective friends! Mac was desperately clinging to the hope that Harris might just pull up and come back for him, but that wasn't going to happen and in the next instant five different bullets found their mark and Mac hit the dirt, his back shattered into bits and pieces.  
Harris kept going! He leaned in low against his horse's neck and with yells and boots of encouragement kept that animal going at full speed towards parts anywhere but here, the second horse quite happy to follow along behind. The posse split up at this point, three of them continuing on after the fugitive while the main group pulled up and came back to what had been the camp site.  
Heyes was still shaking as Carson rode up to them and dismounted. He handed the reins of his horse over to Thompson and approached the two men, his eyes boring into Heyes. Heyes looked away, even more frightened of Carson and what he was going to do than he had been of Boeman. Finally Carson released Heyes from the scrutiny and looked over the convict's shoulder at Kenny.

"You alright, Reece?" Carson asked him.

"Yeah." Kenny assured him. "Wouldn't have been though if it hadn't been for Heyes. He saved my life."

"Uh huh." Came the stagnant response. Then he returned to his horse and untied one of the sets of manacles he'd been carrying.

Heyes inwardly groaned. Maybe he should have just let Boeman cut his throat.

Carson came back and wrapped the belt around Heyes' waist, cinching it up snugly in the front this time which was different from the usual routine.

"Turn around Heyes."

Heyes did so, locking eyes with a disappointed Kenny while Carson did a complete search of Heyes' person. That done, he took hold of one of Heyes' hands from behind his head and brought it down behind his back and snapped it into the cuff and then did the same with the other hand. Heyes grimaced from the movement, his shoulders still not quite recovered from that last 'punishment'. Then Heyes dropped his eyes from Kenny's as Carson took hold of his elbow and turned him around to face forward again. Heyes knew he couldn't have expected anything different; as far as Carson was concerned he'd been a convict involved in a prison break and he would be treated as such until it could be proved otherwise.

"There ya' go Heyes." Carson told him. "All safe and sound again." And then he smiled, as though he knew something that Heyes didn't know and that was a little unsettling.

"Do you have any water?" Kenny asked his boss.

"Yeah, sure."

Carson returned to his horse, grabbed the canteen and brought it back to him, then he walked away to go deal with what was left of the three 'escapees'.

Kenny took a deep drink from the canteen and then offered some to Heyes.

"Don't be wasting water Reece!" Carson called back to him. "It's going to take us all day to get back to the prison!"

Kenny's jaw tightened in irritation and continued to let Heyes drink. When he was done Kenny untied his bandana and soaking it in water he then pressed it against the deep cut across Heyes' jawline. Heyes sucked his teeth but then had to admit that the cool wetness did make it feel better.

"You're a mess." Kenny commented. "Ya' look like you've been through the wars."

"You should see how it feels from my end."

Kenny smiled and nodded. He soaked the bandana in water again and tried to clean up some of the blood from the slice across Heyes' throat and then went to work wiping away what he could of Boeman's debris. It was not a pretty sight. In fact Heyes could hear some young fella throwing up on the other side of the wagon, though Heyes figured that it wasn't just his appearance that had evoked that response. What was left of the three dead men had been dragged over and dumped by the wagon while everyone discussed how best to proceed. Kenny took Heyes' arm and basically lead him over to the wagon as well, mainly just to give him a place to settle until the trip back to the prison got underway.  
Some of the men had already unloaded what hadn't fallen out of the vehicle and had lifted it up and placed the wheel back on again. Nobody thought it odd that the posse had all the tools they needed with them in order to fix the wheel, almost as though someone knew that that's what was going to happen.

"Laity!" Carson called out to one of the posse men.

"Yeah, what?"

"Your ranch is the closest to us, how about riding back there and getting us a couple of harness horses to haul this wagon?" Carson asked the rancher. "If you can hitch them to the wagon and bring these bodies back to the prison the warden will pay ya' an extra share for your help today."

Laity shrugged. "Yeah sure, why not." He agreed. "Just make sure those bodies are in the wagon and covered up before I get back. No amount of money is worth having to deal with corpses—unless of course, it's already your job."

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Carson sneered at the older man's queasiness. "They'll be all nicely wrapped up and ready to go. Shall I put some ribbon on them too?"

Laity just snorkeled through his handlebar moustaches and headed over to his horse.

Heyes listened to this exchange in a light headed daze. He looked over to where Boeman's body had been dumped and tried to acknowledge what was left of the convict's head. It just didn't seem to register with him that Boeman was actually dead and that the bloody mass attached to the body had once been a face. He wasn't sad, or regretful, but nor was he relieved or elated. He felt nothing but overwhelming exhaustion.

"Hello Mr. Heyes."

Heyes slowly looked over to the source of the familiar voice and then he creased his brow and stood up a little straighter from where he was leaning against the wagon.

"Michael." Heyes acknowledged the older boy from the orphanage. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, sir. You remember we told you that Henry and I had gotten jobs working for Mr. Jackson over at the Two Blazes?" He explained. Heyes nodded. "Well, last night word got around that there had been a prison break and the ranchers were all welcome to join up on tracking you fellas down. Mr. Jackson, well he says he's too old to go traipsing across the countryside, but if me and Henry wanted to go, well..." Michael shrugged a little self-consciously. "We kinda thought if would be exciting, you know...it never even occurred to us that you were one of the escaped prisoners."

Heyes nodded his understanding. Michael looked over at the bodies that were in the process of being wrapped in blankets in preparation to load into the wagon. He turned even more pale and looked as though he might throw up again.

"Jeez, I didn't think that..." He swallowed, trying to hold down what was left of his breakfast. "I'm sure sorry Mr. Heyes. I don't think either of us would have joined up if we'd known we'd be running you down. If you'd been killed here, I don't think..."

Then he simply shook his head, unable to continue with that thought.

Heyes gave him a quiet smile. "Oh that's alright Michael." He assured the young man. "But I want you to know that this wasn't my idea. What I told you fellas about making choices and about not breaking out even if I had the opportunity—I want you to know that I meant that. They forced me to come with them. I was just as much a hostage here as Officer Reece."

Michael smiled and nodded. "That's good to know Mr. Heyes. Thank you for telling me. I guess I better go check up on Henry; he didn't look so good when I left him." He started to walk away, but then as an aside, added... "I'm real thankful you didn't get killed."

Heyes nodded his acknowledgement and then mumbled to himself. "Don't give thanks yet, it ain't over."

Then a yell went up that got everybody's attention.

"Hey! The posse's comin' back! And they're leading a horse!"

Everybody looked up in the direction that the fugitive and his pursuers had taken off in and sure enough there was the obvious dust cloud rising lazily into the warming air and four horses, three of them with riders could be seen heading back towards the camp. But as the group got closer, everyone sighed in disappointment; the fourth horse, limping, but holding its own did not have a body slung over it's back as had been everyone's hope so apparently Harris had made a clean get away.

Carson was cursing and as soon as the three men rode up to him he began laying into them right away.

"ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME THAT HE GOT AWAY!?"

Everybody looked a little sheepish.

"He got over to the river Mr. Carson." Davis explained, hoping he wasn't going to get a pay cut. "We saw where he went in, but we couldn't find where he came out on the other side. He can't get far wearing prison garb."

"Ya' wanna bet!?" Carson challenged him. "If he holes up during the day and rides at night, who's gonna see him!? The first ranch or farm he comes across he's gonna steal cloths and food and maybe even another horse! He could be clean across the territory in a couple a days! Now you ride on ahead into Laramie and get the word out! I want that bastard found!"

"Yessir, Mr. Carson." Davis agreed. Then dropping off the lame horse, the three men pushed their already tired horses back into a lope and made a bee line towards the town of Laramie.

Carson stepped forward and grabbed the reins of the abandoned draft horse and led him back towards the wagon.

"Hey Reece! You're in luck." He announced. "Strip the harness off this animal and you've got a horse to ride back to the prison."

"Yessir." Kenny acknowledged and stepped forward to take the horse's reins. "I suppose he's sturdy enough to carry both of us."

Carson, who had turned to walk away, heard that comment and spun around again, pointing an accusing finger at his underling.

"NO! Just you!" He ordered in no uncertain terms. "Heyes can walk back!"

"What do ya' mean 'walk back'?!" Kenny questioned. "It's at least twenty miles back to the prison and most of it'll be during the hottest time of the day!"

"Well I guess he shoulda thought about that before he tried to make a run for it!"

"He didn't try!" Kenny protested. "Boeman forced him to come!"

Carson snorted his opinion of that statement. "Right! Just get ready to go, we'll be heading out in about ten minutes."

Kenny stood for a moment watching Carson's retreating back then he sighed and turned around to meet Heyes' disappointed gaze. Reece didn't say anything; there was nothing he could say. He turned back to the horse and started to remove its harness so that it could be transported back in the wagon.  
Heyes felt totally dejected. He was already exhausted from the stressful events of the last twelve hours and having to walk back to the prison in this heat and with no hat was going to be anything but easy. He wasn't even sure he'd make it. And the flies were already buzzing around his bleeding jaw and making a nuisance of themselves and with his hands cuffed behind him he couldn't even have the satisfaction of swatting at them. Was he even going to get any more water? With Carson running the show, probably not.  
Half an hour later, the group was well under way, leaving the wagon with its grisly cargo to wait for Laity to return with his own harness horses. Heyes was understandably in a sour mood. It didn't even make sense! If Heyes were allowed to double up with Reece on the draft horse then they could make better time and get back to the prison probably by early afternoon, but at this rate it was going to take all day. Carson was just doing this to punish him, Heyes knew that and so did everybody else—any excuse at all to grind the convict into the ground.  
The morning laboured on and the sun rose high in the sky. Heyes felt the heat burning the top of his scalp and he was already starting to get a headache. Kenny didn't have a hat with him either, but at least he had a head full of hair but Heyes had nothing to protect him. He pushed onwards, doing his best to keep up to the pace that Carson was setting and knowing that if he went down he just might not bother getting back up again. Kenny stayed close, trying to angle himself and the horse so as to cast a shadow over the convict as some protection from the sun. He also kept the horse close so that Heyes could lean against it on those occasions when he lost his balance and needed some support to regain it again. Considering the uneven terrain and the fact that Heyes' hands were cuffed behind him it was surprising that he was able to keep to his feet at all. But he did. He was determined.  
About ninety minutes into the trek, Michael, who had been keeping a close eye on Carson, waited for the opportune moment when the senior guard was in conversation with one of his men, and then pressed his horse close to Heyes and plunked his own hat onto the convicts head. Heyes sighed with relief but made no other move to thank the young man, not wanting to bring undue attention their way. Kenny however, smiled and nodded at him.  
An hour after that, Henry saw his opportunity and taking one last swig from his canteen, rode up behind the inmate and dumped the rest of its contents down the back of his neck and over his shoulders. Heyes plodded on. The relief from the shower helped a bit but it was temporary at best. Soon the hot noonday sun was beating down on him and sucking the moisture from his body. His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth and his throat was dry and burning. The blood on his neck had caked and he couldn't even turn his head without it pulling and tearing at his skin. And then the inevitable; his feet stumbled over a rock and before he even had an inkling of trying to save himself he was face down in the dirt and just as he had surmised, he had no incentive to try and get back up again. Kenny pulled the horse to a halt and slid to the ground.

"Hold up!" He called out to Carson as he knelt down beside the prisoner. "Hold up a minute!"

Carson pulled up and then turned his horse and came back to the cause of the delay.

"Get him back on his feet." Carson ordered. "Keep him moving."

Henry came up and dismounting as well, helped Reece to pull Heyes back up onto his feet. Heyes just stood there swaying with his eyes closed. He didn't think he was going to make it

"Look, we gotta hold up here for half an hour or so." Reece said. "Let him rest and have some water or he's not gonna make it. How do you think the officials from the prison board are going to deal with that, Mr. Carson? The one inmate who's situation is already in question conveniently dies while in your personal custody? Might not look too good."

Carson looked like he was going to blow, but he ground his teeth and kept his temper in check none the less. Unfortunately Reece had a valid point and from the looks he was getting from the rest of the men it would seem that everyone was in need of a break.

"Alright!" He snarled. "Jenkins! Divvy up what's left of that corned beef and the bread. And make sure everyone's got water!"

"Yessir!"

The whole posse sighed with relief and everyone quickly dismounted and sought out what little shade they could find to sit and rest and replenish. Kenny and Henry helped Heyes over to a sparse looking tree that only afforded a little bit of shade but at least it was something. Heyes sat down with a sigh of relief and leaned against the skinny trunk. Kenny took the old bandana and doused it with water again and then tied it around Heyes' neck, then put the canteen up to his mouth and gave him a drink. Heyes choked on the first mouthful, his throat was so dry, but after a couple of small sips the water worked it's way through the dust and he was able to take in a healthy drink.  
By this time Jenkins had gotten around to them with their portions of the rations and also plunked down another full canteen of water. Kenny smiled and nodded his thanks and taking the hat off of Heyes' head he poured some of the water into it and let it saturate the felt, then he put it back on the prisoner's head. Heyes finally opened his eyes and smiled with some relief.

"Thank you." He was actually able to breathe out.

"Yeah, you're welcome." Kenny responded. "Here's some corned beef, do you think you can eat some of it?"

Heyes made a face—that did not sound very appetizing.

"C'mon, try. You'll feel better for it." And Reece held the meat up to his mouth and Heyes obediently took a small bite. "Good. Eat some more."

Heyes gave Kenny a look that Kid would have instantly recognized and Kenny smiled because he didn't have a hard time interpreting it either. At least it showed that Heyes was feeling better and getting some strength back. Kenny continued to pressure food onto him in between chewing on mouthfuls himself and then washing it down with some water.  
Henry and Michael sat close by and watched these proceedings while eating their own lunch. This whole venture had turned out to be quite different from the exciting experience Mr. Jackson had promised them it would be. Maybe it was because they already knew Mr. Heyes and felt that they had some level of friendship with him that they didn't appreciate the way the inmate was being treated. But whatever the reason, neither young man was going to forget this day and how easily a person in a position of power can be abusive of it. They were definitely going to have something to tell Sister Julia when they got back to the orphanage for a visit!  
The meagre meal done, everyone just sat back to relax for awhile. Heyes was feeling much better and Kenny continued to offer him water to drink and to splash over his face and neck and hat, and even over his wrists that were certainly feeling the heat from the metal cuffs as they had become hot from the summer sun. Eventually Heyes shook his head—he'd had enough to drink, and enough to eat. Kenny took another drink himself and then screwed the cap back onto the canteen.

"Feeling better?" He asked, somewhat needlessly.

"Yeah." Heyes nodded.

"We're about half way back to the prison." Kenny informed him. "Think you can make it now?"

Heyes groaned, then nodded. "I think so. I'll certainly try."

"Good."

"OKAY!" They heard Carson yell from up ahead. "Everybody on your feet—let's go!

Heyes groaned.

It seemed that nobody was in a great hurry to get moving again but with the obvious fact that 'the sooner they did get going the sooner they would get back' forcing its way into their collective thoughts they all managed to remount and carry on.  
Heyes seemed to be holding his own for the first couple of miles, but then the hot afternoon sun, his new injuries and the stresses from this latest venture again began to take their toll and he started to lose ground. Carson was taking a shorter, but more rugged route back to the prison than the one the wagon had been forced to use and Heyes was finding the rough, uneven terrain hard to navigate. He stumbled more than once but was able to maintain his footing along with mumbled curses, but when they came to a creek embankment that would require a bit more dexterity to descend, he hesitated. He was certain that he no longer had the strength to hold his balance down the rocky slope to the creek bed and the ascent on the other side was way beyond his current level of ability. Kenny pulled up behind the inmate and could easily read doubt and indecision in the exhausted man's body language. He slid down off the draft horse and handing the long reins over to Michael he then came forward and took hold of Heyes' elbow.

"C'mon Heyes." He encouraged the inmate. "I'll give you a hand down."

"What's the hold up back there?" Carson's irritated voice reached them as the head guard rode back to the stalled group. "Jesus Christ Reece! What are ya' doing!?"

"I'm just going to walk with him the rest of the way." Kenny told his boss.

"Don't be an idiot!" Carson chided him. "It's still a good seven or eight miles yet."

"I know that!" Reece was starting to get pissed off. "You can refuse to let him ride but you can't stop me from walking with him! Besides, that old horse is limping worse so he could do without the extra weight himself right now."

Carson snorted knowing that was just an excuse; the draft horse was a sturdy animal and would have kept going until it dropped, but Carson was in no mood to argue.

"Fine." He snapped back. "It's your choice. Let's get going."

Carson put his horse back up the far bank and the small group carried on

Kenny encouraged Heyes forward and between him holding the prisoner's arm and Henry keeping his horse close for moral support, they all managed to get down the embankment and also back up the other side.  
To Heyes this walk back to the prison was like a nightmare. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this tired. Maybe that horrible, horrible walk through the desert after Danny had left them all to die—yeah, that would probably be ranked right up there with this one. The only difference was that on that walk both he and Kid had incentive to make it through; they had a mission. On this walk, all Heyes had to look forward to was the prison and even he was surprised at how much he was longing to see those stark walls come into view.  
He was drifting, he knew it. He was just putting one foot in front of the other, his eyes barely focusing on the tail of the horse ahead of him. He was vaguely aware of Kenny walking along beside him and only felt the hand on his elbow when he took a stumble and it was that hand that kept him on his feet. He barely even acknowledged Henry riding up beside Kenny and handing down the canteen, or even the guard dousing his head and shoulders with water and then forcing some of the liquid down his throat. He couldn't help but acknowledge it though when he started to choke and then he stopped and took a real drink. Amazing what water will do for a thirsty man. Even that little bit that his friends had been able to sneak to him behind Carson's back, refreshed him to some degree and put strength back into his failing legs. Kenny took a quick drink himself while keeping a cautious eye on his boss and then screwed the cap back on and handed the canteen back to Henry. The group carried on.

"Heyes."

"Hmmmm?"

"You're fading on me again." Kenny observed. "Talk to me for a while, why don't you?"

"Talk to you?"

"Yeah."

"What about?"

"Oh, I donno. How about your folks, where did they come from?" Kenny already knew this from reading the transcripts from the two trials, but he was fishing for anything to keep the man awake.

"Oh, ahh. Well. My pa came from England and my ma came from Ireland."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"How in the world did those two oppositions get together?"

Heyes smiled—sort of.

"In New York." He stated bluntly.

Kenny chuckled.

"Yeah okay." He condescended. "The Great Melting Pot."

"Hmm. How about yours?"

"Mine?"

"Yeah."

"Oh well, the Reece's come from a long line of proper Southern landowners." Kenny explained. "My family owned a large estate before the war and we raised the finest horses in all the southern states!"

"Really?"

"Well, so my father insisted."

"So why aren't you there being a fine southern gentleman instead of here nursemaiding a bunch of misfits?"

"I lost everything in the war." Kenny admitted softly. "Much like you and your cousin did, I suppose."

"Oh. Sorry."

Kenny nodded. "Yeah, it was hard at the time." He admitted. "I thought I had my whole life sewn up. I was running the family business and I was engaged to be married and my future was looking pretty good."

"That war changed things for a lot of people."

"Yes it did." Then Kenny smiled reflectively. "Still, things worked out pretty good for me in the long run. My wife Sarah is the best thing that ever happened for me, except for the the children we've had together."

"Yeah." Heyes sighed. "You have four, right?"

"Yes, that's right." Kenny's tone brightened with paternal pride and Heyes smiled at the slight hint of a southern twang making itself apparent. "Three sons and a daughter."

"A daughter..."

"Yes." Kenny smiled. "She's the youngest, but she rules the household. The most precocious little lady you'd ever care to meet. She's in love with your cousin, by the way."

Heyes snorted. "Yeah, he seems to have that effect on the young ladies. It's those blue eyes of his, apparently the fairer sex finds them totally irresistible. Don't understand it myself."

"Well, she's just coming up ten years old." Kenny prophesied. "It's her first 'crush' so I'm sure she'll outgrow it."

"Ten?"

"Yeah."

Heyes was quiet for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.

"They're cute at ten." He finally commented, almost more to himself than to Kenny.

Kenny nodded, intent on keeping the convict talking so that he wouldn't fade away on him again.

"How about you Heyes?" Kenny asked. "You have any children?"

"Yeah...probably." Heyes answered with a shrug and a deprecating smile. "You know how it is."

Kenny smiled himself. "Yeah, okay." He conceded. "Let me put it another way. Do you have any children that you know of?"

Heyes went quiet again and this time for a longer stretch. Kenny was beginning to think that the man walking beside wasn't going to answer. But finally Heyes shrugged and gave a somewhat regretful sigh.

"The life of an outlaw doesn't really lend itself to raising a family." He explained quietly. "You're always watching your back, always on the move. It's unsettled and unpredictable—and dangerous too. Not only for the outlaw, but for the people he has allowed himself to love. It's not fair, or right to bring children into that kind of a lifestyle. I've seen others try to do it—to make it work, but it always ends badly. People get hurt. Children get killed..." Heyes went quiet again and Kenny couldn't help but feel that there was a lot more to what the ex-outlaw was saying than just the words themselves.

Heyes looked off into the distance, a quiet sadness drifting into his dark eyes and then quietly concluded; "It would be awfully arrogant of me to think that I could make it work out differently when so many others before me have tried and failed."

"Maybe one day Heyes." Kenny tried to sound encouraging. "When you get out of here and put that old life behind you. There's nothing like children to give your life new purpose."

Heyes smirked and sent the guard a look.

"I don't see that happening any time soon." He commented.

"Oh, I donno." Kenny surmised. "Your partner doesn't strike me as the kind of fella who gives up too easily."

"Ha! You got that right!" Heyes agreed. Then he turned serious again. "But I thought you said that I was too 'dangerous and unpredictable' to be released among decent folks."

"Yeah, I did." Kenny admitted. "And at the time, I meant it. But you've been doing a lot of soul-searching lately Heyes—I know you have. And it shows in your attitude; in the choices you've been making."

"I kinda backslid though, didn't I?" Heyes observed with a slightly impish smile peeking through the grim and exhaustion.

Kenny furrowed his brow. "Backslid. When?"

"Well, back there." Heyes explained. "You keep on telling me to step back, to stop trying to always be in control, and yet as soon as someone I care about gets threatened, there I go getting involved and trying to take control." Kenny chuckled. "I apologize for that Kenny." Heyes continued. "Next time an inmate threatens to cut your throat, I'll just stay out of it."

Kenny smiled and shook his head at the man's undying audacity. "Yeah, that's alright Heyes. I'll forgive you this one time. Hopefully it won't come up again."

"Well—if you're sure."

Finally, finally; the prison walls came into sight. Heyes almost felt like dropping to his knees and kissing the ground, he was so relieved. He was exhausted; his head was pounding from the heat and his shoulders were aching from their forced positioning and the previous abuses inflicted upon them. He didn't care that it was the prison, all he could think about was the hope of a cold shower and then his cot inside the safety of his cell. He was so tired—he wasn't even hungry.

"Officer Reece." Michael moved up to the guard. "Me and Henry better get back to the ranch, so if you could take your horse again."

"Oh, yes fellas." Kenny took the reins back. "Thanks a lot for your help."

"Yessir." Michael nodded. "And don't worry about my hat Mr. Heyes. I'll get it back later."

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Heyes mumbled. "Thank you. It helped a lot. Both of you helped a lot. I'll put in a good word for you with the Sisters."

Both young men smiled. "Thank you Mr. Heyes." Henry responded. "We're just glad you got back okay. Next time you go back to the orphanage, maybe we can get time off and come visit."

"Yeah."

Then both young men trotted ahead to let Mr. Carson know that they were splitting off and heading for home. The senior guard nodded, shook both their hands and they were off at a lope towards home and their own respite.  
The guards in the watch towers had spotted the small posse returning and had sent for the warden to let him know. By the time the weary group plodded their way through the gates and into the yard, Mitchell was already outside and waiting for them. He wasn't looking too pleased. Heyes spotted the escape wagon parked horseless over by the far wall, so obviously Mr. Laity, being able to maintain a faster pace had circumnavigated the posse and had already completed his mission. That would explain why the warden was not pleased; three dead prisoners and one still at large could hardly be considered a successful conclusion to this whole bothersome episode.  
The small group stopped in the centre of the yard and those who were mounted, stepped down from their horses and allowed Murrey and Davis to collect them up and lead them back to the stables. Mitchell and Carson spoke together for a few moments while Heyes swayed on the spot, waiting for whatever was to come next. Why couldn't they just let him go back to his cell—that's all he wanted. Why do they have to stand there talking? They could do that anytime.  
Then the main door to the prison proper opened and what appeared to be most of the inmate population began to slowly make their way down the stairs to stand in a somewhat dishevelled group over by the far wall. Nobody knew why they were there—it was supper time after all. What were they doing all assembled out here? Heyes was able to pick out Kyle in the group and both men asked the same question with their eyes. Neither one had the answer. Heyes was starting to feel anxious.  
Then Carson and Mitchell stopped talking and the warden made his way over to stand in front of the prisoner. Mitchell's eyes bore into him and Heyes kept his own eyes downcast; he wasn't up to any sort of confrontation right now and he was willing to be as subservient as they wanted him to be. Just let him go lay down before he fell down!

"Mr. Heyes." Mitchell finally stated. "How disappointing this must be to have such a well laid out plan fail so miserably."

Heyes was shocked into making eye contact but then instantly broke it again, his mind spinning at the accusation. That hadn't been a question so he was powerless to say anything in his own defence.

"Warden Mitchell." Kenny began. "Heyes didn't..."

Mitchell held up his hand to silence the guard, still staring at the prisoner. "I'm sure you'll be pleased to learn that in one instance at least, you did succeed. Though I found it to be a most despicable and cowardly act that I would have thought beneath even the likes of you."

Heyes was feeling confused. What the hell was he talking about? He was so exhausted he couldn't think straight. Why couldn't the warden just get to the point.

"A man who had shown you nothing but trust and friendship and this was how you repaid him!"

All of a sudden the penny dropped and fear clutched at Heyes' heart and he found that he couldn't breath. Again his eyes shot up to meet those of the warden's, and the name escaped his lips before he could stop it.

"Doc Morin..."

"What was that, Convict?" Mitchell demanded. "Did you say something!?"

"Dr. Morin...is he...?" Heyes couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

"Is he dead?! Is that what you are trying to say?!" Mitchell yelled at him. "Yes Mr. Heyes! He's dead—thanks to you!"

"NO! No...I..." Heyes gasped for air and stepped back with the shock of realization hitting him.

Kenny saw Heyes starting to sway again and grabbed hold of his arm to steady him, but the guard was fighting his own emotions as well. Doc Morin had been his friend too and the news of the man's death was hitting him like a bucket of ice water. The wound hadn't appeared to be that bad—even the Doc himself had said that it wasn't that bad...

"No, Warden Mitchell, sir—Heyes didn't do it." Kenny insisted through his shock. "Heyes couldn't have done it."

"Is that so, Officer Reece?" Mitchell demanded, his voice cold with anger. "And did you witness the assault in order to be so certain of your facts?"

"No sir, I didn't." Kenny had to admit. "But Heyes wouldn't have done..."

"When Mr. Carson went in search of you, Mr. Reece, he found the doctor laying on the floor, barely clinging on to what was left of his life." Mitchell explained. "When Mr. Carson asked him who had done the foul deed, the doctor had just enough breath left to utter one word: Heyes." Then Mitchell turned his accusing glare to the prisoner again. "He bled to death on the floor of his own infirmary, Mr. Heyes! Imagine that!"

"No! I didn't..." Heyes' head was spinning. After everything he had already been through in the last twenty-four hours, and now this! Not only was one of his best friends dead, but he stood accused of killing him! He felt like he was going to throw up.

"Heyes saved my life out there, Warden Mitchell." Kenny was determined to say his piece. "Boeman was going to cut my throat and Heyes put himself in harm's way to stop him. The way things appeared to me in the infirmary, it was Boeman who had attacked Dr. Morin—not Heyes! Heyes was trying to help him!"

"By leaving him on the floor to bleed to death!?"

"Boeman forced Heyes to go with us!" Kenny was getting mad now. "He was just as much a hostage as I was! The Doc said it wasn't too bad, he said he'd be alright."

"Well what a shame that neither Boeman or the doctor are still alive to testify to that!" Mitchell observed. "And since a 'deathbed' confession, or in this case: 'accusation' is considered irrefutable, I have very little choice but to accept it as truth!"

Kenny opened his mouth to protest further, but Mitchell turned his back on him and instead, addressed the assembled group of fidgeting inmates.

"Many of you have been here long enough to realize now why you have been brought out here before supper." The warden began in a voice loud enough for the assembly to hear. "But there are others of you who are more recent guests to this institution. I highly recommend that you newcomers pay close attention to what is about to happen here! And why! "Attempting to escape from this prison is a foolish and pointless act! I promise you, you will be hunted down like dogs and dragged back in irons and then you will be punished! And that's if you are lucky enough to still be breathing!" At this point Mitchell paused for effect and glanced back at the prisoner. Heyes was shaking. He couldn't believe this was happening—not again! The warden allowed a subtle smile to escape his lips, then he hardened his expression again and returned to his audience.  
"In this particular escape attempt we apparently had a joint effort." Mitchell continued. "Mr. Boeman, Mr. Heyes, Mr. Harris, Mr. MacKenzie and Mr. Warren somehow managed to organize and plan this little endeavour and our prison physician, Dr. Morin was killed in the process! Mr. Heyes stands before you and you will all witness his punishment as a reminder to you what will happen if you attempt such a foolish act yourselves!  
"You will all take note of the wagon parked over there by the far wall." Every inmate's eyes turned towards the wagon. "In that wagon are the remains of Mr. Boeman, Mr. MacKenzie and Mr. Warren! When the punishment is completed you will all be filed passed the wagon to view those remains at which point you will then be free to return to the mess hall and receive your supper.  
"Now, I'm sure that the more astute of you have noticed that Mr. Harris is not among the dead, nor is he standing here to receive punishment. Be rest assured, he will be re-captured! Every rancher and lawman in the territory have been alerted to his escape and have been given a full description of the man they are to look out for. The prison has also offered up a sizable reward for this convicts return, dead or alive, so you see there is added incentive for our neighbours to assist us in tracking him down.  
"When he is returned to the prison, again you will all be assembled out here once more to witness his punishment or to view his remains, depending on the outcome. But I assure you, he will be returning to this prison, one way or another. Escape is impossible and the consequences of attempting an escape are dire to say the least."

Then Mitchell turned to his senior guard. "Prepare the prisoner for punishment, Mr. Carson."

Carson nodded and turned towards the prisoner. Heyes' mind was racing, but his body was frozen in place. He didn't know what to do. Possibilities flashed across his brain like lightning strikes and then just as quickly were deleted as improbable and unlikely to succeed. Carson stopped in front of him and unbuckled the belt from around Heyes' waist and then turned the prisoner around to unlock the cuffs. Heyes' teeth were chattering, just like at the trial when he had totally lost control. David had said that he had gone into shock. Is that what was happening again? Or was he simply loosing his mind? He locked eyes with Kenny and he heard himself pleading with that man, though he had no control over what his mouth was saying

"Kenny, please. Help me. Don't let them do this." Heyes' voice came in a shattered whisper, his mouth barely moving and Kenny had to struggle just to catch the words. "I can't do this again. I can't take another beating—please, don't let them do this. Please."

Kenny's expression was one of sadness and regret and then fear. Heyes' teeth were chattering and his pupils dilated. Kenny didn't understand what was happening to him, but then he'd never seen a man have a nervous breakdown before either.  
Heyes felt himself being turned around again and his hands were loose now, but his arms just hung limply by his side. He could see the assembly of inmates looking at him, uncomfortable with what they were being forced to watch. And then he saw Kyle looking away, not being able to bear watching the enigmatic Hannibal Heyes falling apart. Rough hands grabbed the hat off Heyes' head and tossed it aside, then they pulled the soiled tunic over his head as well, and it joined the hat down in the dirt. Then two guards (Heyes' mind couldn't register which two) took him by the arms and began to drag him over towards the stairs. Heyes didn't know what was going to happen to him and he didn't need to know—he was terrified. He dug in his heels and he fought like a man possessed. And yet his mind had become calm, cool and collected. He was consciously telling himself to stop this nonsense, that he was only degrading himself and that nobody was going to listen anyways.  
But his body was out of his control and his mind was just along for the ride. He screamed and pleaded and prayed to a God he was no longer sure even existed anymore and the guards just clamped down harder in their grip and dragged him kicking and screaming and pleading over to the side of the stairway. His arms were stretched up above his head and his wrists were tied tightly to the railing and he was left there, shaking and sweating, his teeth chattering with emotions that were numbing his heart.  
It seemed an eternity that he stood there, his hands tied up above his head. The yard was silent and all Heyes could hear was the sound of his own ragged breathing and the whispered pleading that continued to tumble from his lips. He had to clench his jaw to stop himself from starting to cry; even now he wasn't going to allow himself to cry though fear strangled him and sucked the breath from his lungs. Throughout this spectacle Kenny had continued to protest, insisting that Heyes hadn't been a part of the escape and that they were punishing the wrong man! Heyes had saved his life, they couldn't do this! It was Boeman who had killed the doctor, not Heyes! This was unjust! This had to stop! He continued to protest, deliberately putting himself in Mitchell's face until the warden had finally had enough.

"Officer Reece! Stand down!" Mitchell ordered him. "This inmate has had you hood winkled from the start and he has blindsided you!"

"NO!" Reece insisted. "Warden you have to listen to me! Heyes didn't...!"

"STAND DOWN!" Mitchell yelled at him. "One more word out of you that doesn't include 'Yessir' and you'll be suspended without pay! Do you understand?"

Reece's jaw tightened even more in anger, but even through his indignant rage he knew that if he was suspended he could not be of any help at all to Heyes inside the prison. He didn't know what to do at this point, but he knew that he could not be suspended. He backed off.

"Yessir." He practically snarled at his boss. But Mitchell took what he could get and he accepted it.

"GOOD!" Then he turned back to the senior guard. "Carry on Mr. Carson."

Kyle felt sick to his stomach. He tried to look anywhere but at his friend. How could they do this to the great Hannibal Heyes? He was a legend! He was brilliant! These morons had no right to treat him this way. They were destroying him, breaking him into pieces and it was agonizing to have to stand there and watch it happen. Kyle tried to slip behind the other inmates, to try and block the image from his eyes and the pleading from his ears, but Murrey had been watching for just such an avoidance, especially from Murtry. The guards all knew that Murtry was Heyes' friend and compatriot and would feel the punishment of his 'hero' even more than the other witnesses. As soon as Kyle had ducked away, Murrey had stepped forward and grabbing him by the shirt front, pulled him up to stand front and centre again and indicated that he was to watch—like it or not. Kyle gave the guard a quick glare and then dropped his eyes, but Murrey was onto him again then, giving him a quick jab in the gut with the club. He grabbed him by the shirt again and shook him upright and indicated once more that he better keep his eyes forward and watch the punishment; if he looked away there would be trouble, and Murrey was watching him.  
Kyle set his jaw and stared eyes forward. He tried to glaze them over, to just look straight ahead and into nothing, but he wasn't able to do it. The image of this man whom he'd always thought of as untouchable and unbreakable, being striped half naked and tied to the railing and left there to be pleading for mercy and trembling in fear was a sight that he was never, ever going to forget—or forgive.  
Carson came over to the steps and picked up the long heavy bull whip that had been laying there, curled up on the landing. He made sure that Heyes saw it as he unfurled it and then he gave it a quick snap. Heyes' eyes rolled back and he shut them tight against the reality of what was happening. Fear in-golfed him and he was trembling so badly that if his hands hadn't been tied above him he would have collapsed in a whimpering heap.  
He was broken even before the punishment began. Hannibal Heyes had packed his bags and left the arena, leaving behind a shattered shell of who the man used to be. His mind had gone into a loop and his reality had become so surreal that it wasn't even happening to him—until he felt the first lash of the whip hit his back. Even then his brain sat back and said _"__Well, isn't that odd; there's no pain_**_._**" All he felt with that first cut was something, almost like a board hitting his body and pushing him forward, and the air knocked out of his lungs. But there was no pain; then, gradually as his brain began to register it, the sharp cutting fire began to build and then blossom out over his whole torso, the intensity of it escalating with each passing second.  
Then the second blow came and again, he didn't feel it at first, but then it also began to build up and blossom out, and added its intensity to the agony of the first. The third blow came and Heyes spit out a gasp! He squeezed his eyes tight shut and clamped down his jaw to the point where his teeth would have hurt if not for the growing searing pain in his back. The fourth blow came and his fear turned to rage and he screamed it out to the heavens and cursed the God he was positive no longer existed anymore.  
The fifth blow came and he tried to fight against the bindings and he could hear himself still screaming his anger while his brain just shook its head and quietly voiced its opinion; _'Don't bother Hannibal, there's no point. Nobody's listening.'_ By the sixth blow his screaming had diminished to a whisper. His rage fled the scene and he begged for mercy, pleading with them to stop but it just came out as a whisper on the wind and even he couldn't hear the words. A loud buzzing had attacked his brain and he felt his awareness slipping away.  
When the seventh blow hit he was barely conscious of anything anymore. Swirling darkness was taking over from the buzzing and the only thing keeping him upright was the rope binding his hands. By the eighth blow he was no longer aware of the strokes reigning down upon him, but they continued to come until the punishment was completed and all that was left of his back was a raged bloody mess.  
Carson stopped inflicting the strokes, his respiration heavy from the exertion. Silence reigned over the yard, nobody moved. Finally Kenny stepped forward, intending to cut the man down and get him over to the infirmary, although what they were using for a doctor at this point was beyond him. It became a moot point however when Mitchell stopped the guard in his tracks with a simple gesture.

"Not you Officer Reece." He ordered. "Mr. Murrey, Mr. Thompson, cut him down and then take him to the dark cell."

Those two men nodded acceptance of their orders and set about their business. Thompson made short work of the bindings and Heyes slid to the ground and lay there in a motionless, bloody heap. Kenny's jaw had never softened during the whole punishment and now his teeth were aching with his anger as he watched those two guards each grab an arm and begin hauling Heyes up the stairs and into the prison proper. The punished man gave no outward sign of life and Kenny again felt enraged by the actions of his superiors and he cursed his station and his inability to have any control over these events.

"Sir." He addressed his boss quietly. "Might I ask how long you intend to leave him in the dark cell?"

Mitchell turned towards him, his eyes hard and his mouth set.

"As long as it takes, Mr. Reece." Then Mitchell turned away from him and gestured towards his senior guard. "In my office Mr. Carson. NOW!"

Carson swallowed nervously. "Yessir, Warden."

Carson took a deep breath and then followed the warden back inside. He knew he was in for it because of the way this whole episode had fallen out—why the hell did Harris have to get away, dag nabbit! That's just going to make everything all that much more complicated. And it had all started out to be so easy!  
Reece stood and watched them leave. Fear took hold of his chest, but in a way a sense of release as well. Mitchell had made a big mistake right there in admitting to Reece that he intended to leave Heyes in the dark cell until he died. There was no reason now for Reece to feel that he had to stay close, there was no longer anything he could do by staying here. His job, as it was, no longer mattered to him so if leaving the prison meant that he was going to loose that job, well so be it. He could no longer function under these conditions and he no longer had any intentions of continuing to try.  
With his mind set and his heart resolved, he turned to make his way over to the stables when he was brought up short by one of the inmates staring at him. Kyle Murtry stood stock still while the other inmates filed passed him on the way to view the grisly remains that were laid out in the wagon. After what was left of his friend had been hauled away he turned his attention to the guard and his gaze did not shift when Kenny turned around and met his gaze. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Kyle dropped his eyes and walked away, but Kenny got the message all the same. The question was clear. 'What are you going to do about this? You are the only one who can help him—so what are you going to do?' Kenny stood rooted to the spot for a moment. He knew exactly what he was going to do, he just hoped that he would be able to get it done fast enough.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? A SIMPLE PRISON BREAK AND IT GETS TURNED INTO A BLOODY CIRCUS!"

Carson stood tight lipped in defensive anger. "How was I suppose to know it was going to go that way?! I thought Boeman had more brains than that!"

"And now Harris is on the loose!" Mitchell complained. "How much does he know?"

"I donno." Carson shrugged. "I told Boeman it was 'need to know' basis. He might of figured that Harris needed to know. Who knows!?"

"DAMMIT!" Mitchell swore. "We gotta get him back! Dead or alive, but we have to find him!"

"I know! We'll get him!"

"God Dammit! Jxxxx Fxxxxxg Cxxxxt!" Mitchell was furious. "What the hell went wrong!? You weren't supposed to take out Boeman until after he'd killed Heyes and Reece—I would have thought that was the most obvious part of the whole plan!"

"IT WAS! TO US!" Carson was really getting mad now. "But as we agreed; it was 'need to know'-remember!? And I didn't think Thompson needed to know! He saw Boeman threatening Reece and then go after Heyes and decided for himself to act on it! Damn that Boeman! That sadistic bastard! He couldn't just cut Heyes' throat—no! He had to start playing games, stretch it out for as long as he could! Thompson got that shot off before I could stop him and then it was too late! All hell had broke loose!"

"FXXK! You shot the other two when they ran for it, why didn't you just take out Heyes at the same time?!"

"BECAUSE HE DIDN'T RUN FOR IT!" Carson protested. "He surrendered to Reece and stood stock bloody still!"

"Well then why didn't you 'accidentally' shoot both of them where they stood!?" Mitchell strongly suggested. "It wouldn't be hard to accept that they got caught in the line of fire and with all the confusion..."

"BUT THEY WEREN'T IN THE LINE OF FIRE!" Carson pointed out. "MacKenzie and Warren were running away from them! I would have had to aim my rifle in a whole other direction to shoot them! It was one thing to set up Boeman to kill a guard, but a whole other kettle of fish for me to do it myself! DAMMIT! It was bad enough that I had to finish off the doctor, but I am not gonna get brought up on review for shooting another guard!"

"Alright, fine!" Mitchell backed off. "Let's just settle down here and try to figure this out." He took a couple of deep breaths and then sat down at his desk, thinking. "So Morin is dead and Heyes is never going to see the light of day again if I have anything to do with it. Boeman's dead so he won't be going mouthing off about it all being a set up. Harris is a loose cannon; we don't know what he knows—if anything. Hopefully some rancher will just shoot him." Then he sighed. "But Reece. What the hell are we going to do about Reece?  
"DAMMIT! This was such a good plan! It would have gotten all three of those bastards out from under my skin! It would have been a simple matter of a dangerous convict attempting escape and going on a killing spree before he was finally shot down and killed himself! Why can't anything go as planned!?"

Carson just stood silently, trying to calm down his own defensive anger. Mitchell sat and pondered, rubbing his chin.

"What to do about Reece." The warden repeated. "Can't fire him. Not with all those 'officials' looking this way. Still, maybe there's no need—he doesn't know that he was a target, doesn't know that this whole thing was a set up. As far as he's concerned it was just a simple escape attempt that did not succeed. He might know for himself that Heyes wouldn't have killed Dr. Morin, but he can't prove it. And once Heyes is dead, well Officer Reece just might up and quit anyways. This still might all work out alright."

Carson took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. "Yeah, maybe." He finally agreed. "There's nothing that can lead back to us. Even if Harris does know anything he'll probably just go into hiding and that's if he gets away at all." But then another problem came to his mind. "What about Curry? He's the one who got this all started and he's not going to be too happy about his partner dying in the dark cell."

Mitchell waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about Curry." He commented. "Heyes instigated a prison break and killed our doctor in the process. He was re-captured and punished for it. End of story. Curry will have nothing to go with."

"Yeah, but if Curry and Reece get together..."

"Look! Just don't worry about it alright!" Mitchell was starting to get mad again. "I'll take care of Curry, you take care of tracking down Harris! Dismissed!"

Carson's jaw tightened in irritation, but he still knew his place. "Yessir Warden." And he turned on his heels and stomped out of the office.

Kenny headed into town, having another fight with his horse over which direction they should be going in first, but Kenny won the battle and he ended up dismounting in front of the telegraph office.

"Evening George."

"Kenny!" George was elated. "You won't believe how worried everyone was about you. I hope you're going home to your wife, she's just been going crazy since we found out about that break out and that you were part of it!"

"Yeah, I know." Kenny admitted. "I'm heading home right now. She knows, though, doesn't she? I mean that everything's alright?"

"Oh yeah, word got around pretty quick." George assured him. "It's still good to see ya' though. And I'm sure Sarah will be very relieved when you get home. A shame about the Doc." He added quietly. "Quite a colourful character he was—he'll certainly be missed. Especially by the crowd over at the saloon."

"Yeah I know." Kenny couldn't hide his hurt at the mention of Morin and George's exuberance at seeing Kenny alive and well softened a little.

"Is it true that Heyes fella killed 'em?" He asked almost sympathetically. "Awful shame. The Doc often talked about him being a real good assistant. Real smart."

"Yeah. That's what they're saying." Kenny admitted with a bit of a catch in his voice. "But between you and me George, I don't believe it." Then Kenny took a deep breath and got himself down to business. "And that brings us to why I'm here. I need to send a couple of telegrams."

"Uh huh. It always seems to be two with you."

"Hmm, I suppose." Kenny admitted. "Anyway the first one is to a Mr. Ludlow. Wyoming Territorial Penal Board. Cheyenne Wyoming. Mr. Ludlow. Trouble here. Coming to see you. First train tomorrow AM. Kenny Reece. Laramie Wyoming."

"Okay." Said George as he finished writing that one down. Then he took out another slip of paper. "And the second one?"

"Jed Curry, Brookswood, Colorado." George nodded, he was so used to sending telegrams to this particular individual that he didn't need to hear the address anymore. Kenny continued. "Come. Now. Bring doctor. K.R."

"Hmm." George nodded as he finished writing the message. "Short and to the point as always, Kenny. But he always seems to know what you're talking about."

"Yes, he does." Kenny agreed. "Well, goodnight George. I better get home to my wife."

"Yes. You better."

When Kenny got home it was to an avalanche of hugs and kisses from all his family members. Sarah had kept most of the details of the last twenty-four hours away from her children, but somehow they still managed to know most of what had been going on. Word had spread quickly that the posse had returned to the prison and that Kenny Reece had arrived back alive and in one piece, but his family still needed his actual person to walk through the front door before they could allow themselves the privilege of a celebration. He hugged his wife and his sons, and his daughter refused to let go her strangle hold around his neck until it was well passed her bedtime and she was falling asleep in his arms.  
The evening settled down into night and the household quieted and everyone eventually retired to their beds, confident that the world was once again as it should be. Kenny and Sarah made love. It was passionate, and terrifying and clinging and reassuring. It was reaffirming, soft and gentle and loving. Kenny held her in his arms for a long time afterwards, almost afraid to let her go and she nestled into him, comforted by his presence, by his scent, by his masculine embrace. He stared out into the darkness, holding her close until she eventually fell asleep.  
Then once he was sure she was down for the night, he quietly slipped out from under the sheet, pulled on his night shirt and glided out of the room. He padded quietly out to the kitchen and reaching up to the top cupboard he brought down the bottle of bourbon that was for 'special' occasions, and taking a glass from the counter, he headed out onto the back porch. It was still fairly warm out after the hot day they'd had, though Kenny knew that in a couple of hours it would be chilly enough to send him back indoors, but in the mean time he settled into one of the chairs there and poured himself a drink. He sat back, taking a sip and swallowing it, allowing the strong liquid to glide down his throat and send a warm glow through his body. He sighed deeply, and then sat quietly for a while, just looking up into the dark night sky and the brilliant stars.  
He raised his glass then, to the stars and made a quiet toast to his lost friend.

"Doctor Walter Morin." He mumbled quietly. "It doesn't matter that you never had any formal training, you were the best damned doctor the prison ever had. On top of that you were a real good man too and you didn't deserve this end. I'm gonna miss ya' Doc. Cheers."

He took a swallow of liquor to try and ease the knot that was suddenly in his throat and he quickly wiped a sleeve over his eyes. He sighed and then took another drink trying to block out that look in Heyes' eyes; that lost terrified look as the inmate had begged him, pleaded with him to stop this, to save him somehow. And Kenny had just stood there and let it happen. Well, no; that wasn't entirely true. He had tried to stop it, but trying hadn't been good enough and Kenny didn't think he would ever forget those dark eyes staring at him, beseeching him—haunting him.  
Kenny sighed again and downed what was left in the glass, then poured himself another. He had a plan in the works, that was for sure. But there was no guarantee that it was going to work, or if anybody was going to take him seriously, all he knew was that he had to try. And if in that trying, he still failed, he knew that those dark, stricken eyes—the window into the man's soul, would torment him for the rest of his life. Kenny sat out on the porch, staring up at the endless expanse of stars and slowly, quietly, got drunk.

TO BE CONTINUED


	31. Chapter 31

Broken

Heyes was lying on his back in the summer grasses, the bright glorious sun shining down on him and warming him from the outside inwards. He couldn't believe how comfortable he was and how long it had been since he had felt this good. There was a soft breeze whishing through the long green blades of grass and he could hear them rustling and feel them brushing against his ears. Flying insects were buzzing around him and occasionally he would take a lazy swat at them, but on the most part he just accepted them as part of this peaceful package.

He was smiling; his eyes half closed against the bright shafts of sunlight, his nose breathing in the soft fragrance of wild flowers that were growing all around him—and yes! The soothing sound of a creek gurgling by mingling with the sound of the leaves in the trees gently dancing to their own tune of this glorious summer day.

Then Heyes felt a slight disturbance in the air above him and he opened his eyes against the sunlight and could see the silhouette of a man standing over him and blocking out the orb of yellow light.

"Hello Heyes."

Heyes held up his right hand to his forehead, trying to shield his eyes from the sunlight in order to get a clearer view of this man. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but he just couldn't make out his features.

"Who is that?" Heyes asked him.

The man shifted a little bit so that the sun was not directly behind him and then Heyes grinned from dimple to dimple, pure happiness emanating from his very being.

"Doc!" Heyes greeted his friend. Then he looked confused. "But...I thought you were dead. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help you on your way, if needs be." Came the ambiguous answer.

"Help me on my way?" Heyes questioned. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Maybe—maybe not."

Doc sat down beside Heyes in the grass, and Heyes propped himself up on his elbows. For the first time since he had arrived, Heyes took a quiet look around and realized that he didn't recognize the landscape, nor could he recall how he got here.

"What is this place?" He asked. "Where am I?"

"In between, for now." Came back another non-informative answer. "I was sent here to help you if you need it. And to reassure you."

Heyes' brow creased. "Reassure me about what?"

"That you have nothing to be afraid of."

"What's there to be afraid of here?"

"Exactly."

Heyes sighed in frustration; this conversation was going nowhere. Morin smiled.

"I suppose I should explain myself a little bit better than this."

"Yeah Doc, that would help!" Heyes agreed with a dry edge to his tone.

"I was sent here to give you assurance and to help you on your journey." The Doc repeated. "Death is nothing to fear Heyes—nothing bad is going to happen to you here."

Heyes sat up completely now, suddenly feeling concerned.

"So...you are dead?"

"Yeah, shit!" Morin complained, his mortal personality suddenly bursting through . "I tried to deny it at first, couldn't believe that bastard actually did it! But yeah, I am what you call deceased."

Heyes looked around again and then back to his friend with a creased brow, feeling some trepidation. "So does that mean that I'm...dead?"

"No." Came the flat response. "But you are dying. It won't be long now."

"Oh...well..." Heyes looked around again with even more trepidation. "So...is this heaven, or...that other place?"

"Which do you want it to be?"

Heyes gave a dimpled smile and shrugged a little self-consciously.

"Well of course, I'd prefer heaven, but..."

"Then it's heaven."

Heyes was confused again.

"Just like that?" He questioned. "That easy? But I thought..."

"I told you that you didn't have to fear death. There's no judgement here. We all go to live our lives out on Earth so that we can experience different things. We all make mistakes, it's expected. Actually we're supposed to make mistakes so that we can learn from them and grow and become better beings. You actually did very well Heyes. You made a lot of mistakes."

"Oh. Yeah, ahh thanks." Heyes wasn't really sure if that was a compliment or not.

"Course I'm hardly in a position to comment." Morin admitted, actually looking a little ashamed of his mortal behaviour. "Goodness knows I made plenty of mistakes myself." Then he sighed, and continued on in a long suffering tone as though repeating a lesson that had been repeated to him over and over again. "The biggest thing ya' havta learn to do is not take things that happen on Earth very seriously, ya' can't take it personally, ya' know? Everybody has their lessons to learn and their own journey to travel so ya' can't hold grudges. But God dammit, that Carson! That fxxxing pxxxk—have I said that before?"

"Yeah Doc, ya' have."

"Oh well...well, I still mean it!" Doc was starting to get a little riled now. "God damn that bastard! I still can't believe that he came into the infirmary and suffocated me! Fxxk! I know my life wasn't much—but it was mine, damn it! He had no right to come in there and take it!" Then Morin took a deep sigh and forced himself to calm down. "But, I'm not suppose to hold a grudge. Carson's got his own mistakes to make—his own lessons to learn so...But GOD DAMMIT! That fxxxing pxxxk...!

"Ah, Doc. Should you really be talking like that here?"

"Talking like what?"

"Oh. Never mind." Heyes sat quietly for a moment, trying to take all this information in. "So Carson killed ya'? I thought it was Boeman."

"Oh fxxk no." Doc disclaimed. "That's Boeman's useless. He couldn't even wipe his own butt without Carson giving him directions."

"Oh." Heyes sat quietly again, getting used to all these new concepts. "So I'm dying huh?"

"Oh yeah. You didn't really think that Mitchell was going to let you out did you?"

"Oh no." Heyes answered flatly. "As soon as they dragged me into the dark cell I knew what Mitchell had in mind. I suppose I just thought that Kenny or Sister Julia or somebody would come and get me out. You know, the usual 'rescued in the nick of time', that sort of thing."

"Hmmmm, not likely."

"Yeah."

"So...while we're sitting around waiting for your demise, is there anything you would like?"

"Anything I would like?" Heyes questioned. "What do ya' mean?"

"Ohh, they've got some real nice scotch whiskey here—top shelf! And what's better is that you can drink as much as you want and you'll only get as drunk as you like. Don't wake up with a hangover either. Course, we don't really sleep here so kinda hard to wake up with a hangover, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, okay." Heyes responded with just a touch of scepticism. "I don't really want any scotch...sorry." That to the indignant look that was thrown his way. Then he smiled. "I sure wouldn't say 'no' to a nice cold glass of beer though."

"There ya' go."

Heyes was handed a large mug of frothy beer, so cold that even the glass was covered in frost. Heyes took a tentative sip and his brows went up in surprise. Then he snuggled in and closing his eyes appreciatively he took a long, deep draft. When he finally came up for air the glass was half empty and he sighed contentedly as he wiped a sleeve across his mouth to clean off the foam moustache.

It was then that he realized that he was wearing his dark blue shirt again. He looked closer and sure enough he was also wearing his tan trousers and boots. The last time he had seen these specific articles of clothing they had been covered in blood and being taken away to be burned. He smiled. It felt so good to be back in his familiar wardrobe.

Then he jumped, nearly dropping his mug of beer. It was full again—right to the brim! When did that happen? He glanced over to his companion who was watching Heyes and grinning at the young man's discomposure.

"Pretty neat, huh?"

"Yeah, I'll say!" Heyes agreed. "All I can drink, huh?"

"Yup! Anything else you'd like?"

Heyes became reflective, considering his options.

"I sure have missed real food." He admitted. "I'd love a nice steak—medium rare. With whole boiled onions and—oh! Those wild mushrooms Kid always seemed to be able to find. Those were great, fried up with the steak. Yeah..."

Next thing Heyes knew he was still outside, in that meadow, but he was sitting at a table with a red and white checkered cloth draped over it. There was a pitcher of cold beer and a bottle of whiskey sitting in the center of it and he and the Doc each had a large plate of steak set before them.

Heyes grinned, his mouth starting to water in anticipation. He picked up the knife and fork and was about to dig into the steak when a thought suddenly occurred to him and he looked up, concerned.

"Ahh, shouldn't we say 'grace' or something?"

"Do you want to?"

"Well, I donno. Aren't we supposed to?"

"It's up to you."

Heyes considered it for a moment and then grinned like a little boy who had gotten away with stealing a pie from a window ledge.

"I never did before unless I was forced to, so...no I don't want to."

Doc smiled and with a shrug gestured over to Heyes' steak.

"Then dig in!"

Heyes' dimples deepened and he attached his meal with an anticipation that was not disappointed.

Half an hour later, after apple pie and two cups of good strong coffee Heyes leaned back contentedly, feeling comfortably full but not stuffed.

"You can have another if you want." The Doc offered.

"Oh no, I don't think I should eat another." Heyes wisely decided. "I'm feeling just right now."

"You can eat as much as you want to Heyes. You'll never feel fuller than you do right now." Then he smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And you never have to worry about gaining weight either."

Heyes laughed. "No, I'm fine." He said. "I never was one to eat a lot anyways."

"Suit yourself." He commented as he reached for another piece of pie with ice-cream.

Heyes smiled lazily, his eyes half closed while he soaked in this wonderful place. This must be heaven, he thought to himself, because no other place could be this perfect. He felt as though he could just stay here forever. Yeah—death was good.

"How come you know so much about this place Doc?" Heyes asked, just out of mild curiosity. "I mean you only just got here yourself."

Morin shook his head over a mouthful of pie. Then he swallowed before he could answer.

"No, no." He finally got out. "Time has no meaning here. As far as you're concerned, I just died the other day, but from my perspective I've been here for one of your lifetimes. I'm still having a hard time forgiving that son of a...Oh! No, never mind. I'll be moving on soon, Heyes."

"Oh. Okay."

But then he frowned as another thought came to him and he sat up again, suddenly filled with concern. Morin sent him a questioning look.

"What's the matter."

"Kid." Heyes announced, suddenly looking very worried. "Ohh, poor Kid—this is going to devastate him, Doc. He's tried so hard to get me released and now I'm just gonna up and die in the dark cell on him. Ohh no." Heyes sat back again, but not with contentment this time, but with remorse. "Is there some way I can get a message to him? Let him know not to feel bad—that this is what I wanted. That he doesn't have to spend the rest of his life wondering, and feeling guilty."

Morin shook his head regretfully, feeling Heyes' concern and understanding his distress.

"No, Heyes. It's pretty hard to get a message through like that."

"There's gotta be some way I can let him know." Heyes insisted. "I hate to think of him carrying this regret with him for the rest of his life."

Morin shrugged. "If that's a burden he has chosen to take on in this life then that's up to him." He explained. "We all have burdens that we take on in our lives Heyes. Over coming them is what makes us stronger."

"Yeah, I can understand that Doc, but..."

"Nope." Morin shook his head. "If this is something he has chosen to take on, then it'll be up to him how he deals with it."

Heyes slumped with a dejected sigh. "It's just not right. He shouldn't have to live with that."

"There is no right or wrong Heyes." Morin pointed out. "Just learning and growing, or not. That's all."

Heyes sat quietly then, not quite sure if he agreed with that or not. It all sounded very neat and tidy, but Heyes wondered if it was really that easy. Poor Kid; this was going to be so hard on him.

Then, quite unexpectedly he heard a horse whinnying out in the meadow. Heyes sat up straighter and looked around with keen interest. Then he gasped a breath and was on his feet in an instant as his lovely liver chestnut mare came trotting over to him.

"Karma!" He greeted her, grinning from ear to ear. "My God, it's Karma! Hello my beautiful girl!"

She nickered as she trotted to him, nodding her head in joyous greeting. His hands were instantly on her face, rubbing her forehead and scratching her ears. She tucked in to him, nibbling on the buttons on his shirt. He laughed—oh how he'd missed her!

She rubbed her forelock against his chest a couple of times and then draping her elegant neck over his shoulders, she tucked her head and pulled her favourite human into a horse hug. Heyes allowed himself to be pushed into her chest and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and was swallowed up by her. He closed his eyes in ecstasy, and smiling gently he leaned his face against her warm soft hide and took in her wonderful horse scent.

"Karma, my beautiful girl."

Then suddenly a thought struck him and a shiver of fear trickled down his spine. He pushed himself away from his mare and looked back at the Doc.

"But why is she here?" He asked, full of concern. "Is she dead? Did something happen to her?"

"No Heyes, she's not dead. The Karma you know and love is still at the Double J."

"Well then, how could she be here if she's not dead?"

"This is your hallucination Heyes. You can have anyone here you want."

"My folks?" It came out as a frightened whisper, as though saying it too loud might make it not be possible.

"Sure, eventually. But they've moved on Heyes, and remember we're still waiting for you. But once you're totally here and settled, then yeah you can see your folks."

Then Heyes became more thoughtful and a question came to his mind that he was too afraid to ask, but the Doc seemed to know what it was anyways.

"Yes, them too." He assured his young friend.

Heyes looked over at him and smiled sadly. "They were both so young; just infants. Why did they have to die?"

"Every life, no matter how long or short has a purpose."

Heyes snorted cynically. "What possible purpose could such short lives have? They barely had a chance to live."

Morin shrugged. "They were there to teach—not learn."

Heyes looked confused and shook his head. "Teach what?"

"How to love. How to loose love." Then added quietly; "How to forgive. Not only others, but ourselves as well."

Their eyes met for a moment, then Heyes smiled sadly and nodded in acquiescence.

Morin smiled and tried to lighten the mood a little bit. "It won't be long now." He surmised. "I'm actually surprised that you're still alive down there—you must he quite strong. In the meantime, why don't you take Karma for a ride?"

Heyes perked up.

"What?! Oh!" Heyes looked back to his mare to find her suddenly all tacked up and ready to go for a gallop.

He grinned foolishly and gathering up the reins he moved towards the saddle. Then he saw his old black hat sitting there, hooked over the saddle horn. His dimples deepened even more as he picked up the piece of felt with silver trimming as though it were a priceless artifact that needed to be handled with care.

He lifted the hat with great reverence and brought it towards his head. By force of habit he pushed his long bangs back off of his forehead and placed the hat down upon his crown. Then suddenly he realized that he had actually pushed back his bangs! His hair was back! When did that happen!? He hadn't noticed! Death was getting better and better! Why had he fought against it for so long? Still grinning, he put his foot in the stirrup and swung aboard his horse. Karma tossed her head in anticipation and started to prance a little dance. Heyes laughed out loud, and giving her neck a pat he turned her head towards the open meadow and touched his heel to her barrel! She bucked playfully and then they were off at a full gallop across the grasslands.

Ohh! This was wonderful, this was glorious! It was just as he had remembered it. The excitement of it, the thrill of just that little bit of danger! He could feel her muscles bunching and stretching, bunching and stretching, feel the power of her strides as she flew them across the land as though it were a green sky and she was an eagle.

They seemed to run on forever, as though Karma could never tire and they'd never have to stop. Never have to go back. Never go back. Never go back. Then suddenly there was a loud crack like thunder and the skies had suddenly turned to black and there were lights coming at him like torches in the night, burning his eyes and sending daggers of agony through his optic nerve and into his brain.

Karma was gone and Heyes was lying in the grass again, but it wasn't warm and pleasant this time. It was cold and the wind was roaring in his ears and his back was on fire and all he knew was pain!

"WHAT'S HAPPENING!?" He yelled in a panic.

"YOU'RE BEING PULLED BACK!"

"NO! NO! I don't want to go back! STOP THEM! PLEASE!"

"I can't stop them! They're pulling you back—you have to go! But don't worry; we'll be here when you're ready."

"I'm ready now! I don't want to go back...I don't want to..."

And then he was spinning and the world where he had been so happy was crumbling and falling away or was he the one falling away? And the blackness surrounded him and those damn torches were burning daggers into his eyes and he was so cold and his back felt like someone was taking a knife and slicing gashes into it and the pain filled his mind and that's all he knew.

Then he was being dragged, his arms pulling his protesting body across a cold and hard surface and he shut his eyes tight against the torch light that was punching through the blackness and he groaned.

"No...don't want to...go back..."

"Don't worry Heyes." He heard Kenny's voice coming from a great distance as though it were floating across a lake, a lake that was shrouded in blackness. "You'll never go back to the dark cell again if I have anything to do with it."

"Jeez, look at his back!" Came Pearson's voice from the opposite side of the lake. "What a mess! Mitchell really did a number on him this time—I'm surprised he's still alive."

"No...Karma...don't want to..."

"Karma?" Asked Kenny. "What's that?"

"I think that's the name of his horse."

"His horse!?" Kenny exclaimed, then nodded knowingly. "That's right; she often got mentioned in the letters he received."

"Yeah. And when those friends of his came to visit, they would often talk about her. Seems to be important to him."

"No...Karma...steaks..."

"Karma steaks?" Pearson questioned. "What, is he eating his horse now?"

"He's not making any sense." Kenny surmised. "He's delirious. We're almost to the infirmary—hang on Heyes! We'll get ya' looked after. We'll pull ya' through this..."

Kenny hadn't wasted any time the next morning. He wasn't feeling his best after having drunk himself to sleep and then awakening in the wee hours, still sitting on the back porch and shivering. He'd quickly returned to bed and trying not to disturb his wife, but craving the warmth of her body none the less, he had settled in under the blankets and quickly fallen back to sleep.

He had caught the early morning train to Cheyenne, and upon reaching that thriving metropolis had instantly hired a cab and made his way to the government buildings. It had taken a couple of miss directions and some backtracking before he finally found his way to the Ministry of Penal Affairs. He began to recognize the hallways that he had traversed a few months back when he had been here for the Hearing and soon he made his way unerringly to the reception area for the offices.

"Good morning." He addressed the secretary. "I'm Ken Reece. I'm hoping that Mr. Ludlow is expecting me."

"Oh! Mr. Reece!" The secretary responded. "Yes, ah hum. Mr. Ludlow only just received your telegram. Would it be possible for you to come back later this afternoon?"

Kenny felt a twinge of irritation but forced himself to remain professional. "No, I'm afraid not." He told the gentleman seated before him. "This is a matter of utmost importance. A man's life hangs in the balance. I need to see him immediately—it won't take long."

"Hmm." Came the sceptical reply. "Well, just a moment. I'll see if he can fit you in. He's a busy man you know."

The secretary stood up and moved to the closed door to the right of reception. He knocked discreetly and then upon hearing acknowledgement from inside he opened the door and slipped through, closing it again behind him.

Kenny sighed, partly in impatient irritation and partly to try and calm his nerves. He knew about handling bureaucrats and he knew that he couldn't go in there all angry and stressed out. He needed to calm down and be rational if he was to get the response that he was hoping for.

Despite his efforts he did start to pace just a little bit, but fortunately the secretary returned fairly quickly and, looking a little put out at having his opinion overturned, he showed the guard into the office and shut the door on them.

"Mr. Reece." Ludlow stood up and shook his hand. "Please, have a seat. I realize your telegram did suggest that your visit was important, but really—is it so urgent that it could not have waited a few hours?"

"Yes Mr. Ludlow, it is." Kenny insisted. "In fact, if there had been a train coming this way last night I would have pulled you our of your bed in order to get action on this situation as soon as possible."

"Ah." Mr. Ludlow stated dryly. "Fortunately the train schedule is more accommodating for those of us who like to sleep through the night. So, what is so urgent Mr. Reece? Is it to do with our previous situation?"

"Yes sir, it is." Kenny admitted. "Warden Mitchell has basically sentenced Mr. Heyes to death without any real evidence to prove that he is actually guilty of anything. In fact I personally know that in at least one of the accusations, Mr. Heyes is not guilty and I strongly suspect that the same is true of the other accusation as well. Mr. Mitchell however is refusing to accept my word on this and Mr. Heyes was unduly punished and is, as we speak, locked up in the dark cell to die. I need you to overturn Mr. Mitchell's decision in this matter, at least until Mr. Heyes' guilt can be proved or disproved."

Mr. Ludlow was sitting back with his fingers laced under his chin. He listened to this statement with some consternation and sat for a few moments to consider.

"Normally we do not interfere with a warden's decisions when it comes to punishing the inmates in their custody." Ludlow commented. "Although in this case I am aware that Mr. Mitchell is already under review for his practices, especially—oddly enough, where Mr. Heyes is concerned. Still, this is not a decision to be made lightly. If you would please fill me in on the circumstances surrounding this new situation, perhaps that will assist me in making a decision about it."

"Yes sir." Kenny agreed. He sighed and collected his thoughts and then began to relate his account of the prison break and its aftermath. "For me, it all started when I arrived at the infirmary to escort Heyes back to the main prison area for supper..."

Throughout this narrative Mr. Ludlow continued to sit back in his chair and listened intently, occasionally stopping the guard and asking him to repeat or elaborate certain details, but on the most part simply nodded or grunted as he took in the narrative.

"...so not only was Heyes just as much a hostage in this situation as I was, but he saved my life. And though I did not witness it, I know that Heyes liked and respected Dr. Morin and that he was no more likely to kill him as he would be to kill his own partner. Therefore, Mr. Ludlow I feel that it is imperative that this office intervene as soon as possible, before it is too late." Then quietly, he added; "If it isn't already too late."

Mr. Ludlow sat quietly for another few minutes, which seemed like an eternity to Kenny. Then he nodded his head and sat up straight again.

"Yes, Mr. Reece. I believe I agree with you." Ludlow conceded. "I'm not saying I completely agree with you on Mr. Heyes' total innocence in this case, but there is enough of a doubt to warrant looking into it further before the man is arbitrarily executed."

"Yes! Thank you sir." Kenny felt weak with relief and was silently thankful that he was already sitting down. "That's all I ask; that this situation gets looked into more closely before anyone else ends up dying for nothing."

"Hmm." Ludlow nodded. "I cannot go myself, but I will inform Mr. Dalton to meet you at the station for the evening train heading back to Laramie." Then he furrowed his brow in indecision. "It was my thought to send a telegram to Mr. Mitchell to inform him of Mr. Dalton's arrival and to strongly suggest that he remove Mr. Heyes from the dark cell until this matter can be resolved. But now it occurs to me that perhaps that would not be a good idea. My initial intent of course, was to get Mr. Heyes out of the dark cell as soon as possible and over to the infirmary for the medical attention he is obviously in need of. But now I fear that it might just have the exact opposite effect, that it might indeed hasten his demise instead."

He sat and pondered this dilemma for a moment, knowing that either decision could prove fatal for the incarcerated man.

"No. I won't send a telegram." Ludlow quickly decided. "No need to give Mr. Mitchell a heads up about this. Let us just hope that Mr. Heyes is still alive when you return."

"Yes, Mr. Ludlow, let us hope so." Kenny agreed. Then he stood up and the two men shook hands. "Thank you sir. I will be on the platform to meet Mr. Dalton when the train arrives. Again, thank you."

"Uh huh. Understand that Mr. Mitchell is still warden of the prison, Mr. Reece." Ludlow pointed out. "Until there can be a review of this whole situation, he will continue to hold that station and in all matters, be treated with respect. Do you understand? We cannot set a precedence here for guards ignoring protocol and running to the board over every little disagreement and expect instant restitution. The line of command must be respected. Do I make myself clear Mr. Reece?"

"Yes sir." Reece accepted that with just a hint of disappointment. "I understand sir."

"Fine. Good day."

That same morning, Jed Curry had ridden the buckboard into town along with Sam and Todd Jefferies in order to help pick up supplies and tend to errands that had been running a little bit behind schedule.

Todd and Carol were settling in fairly well at their new home, although there had been the usual growing pains and stresses that could be expected of a situation such as this one. Carol had actually taken an instant liking to the matron of the household and had started referring to her as 'Grandma' much sooner than she was comfortable in calling her new parents 'Ma and Pa'. But it did eventually come together.

The younger Todd settled in right away and followed his 'father' around everywhere like a hound dog on a scent. So, that being the case, when it came time to make the supply run into town for the Double J, Todd had pleaded on being able to come along and 'help', especially if his Uncle Jed was going to be there as well.

So the new family gradually settled in and established the pecking order quickly enough. Carol soon established herself as an excellent artist and avid reader and had a connection to animals that went beyond the normal attraction that most children have for them. She and Beth, though quite different in ages, soon became good friends and often spent their summer days, after chores, riding the open countryside of the ranch, telling stories and comparing notes.

But that was still to come. On this particular day in mid-summer Carol and Beth were still just newly acquainted and Todd was still hungry for his new father's attention. Things were meshing though, and riding into town in the back of the buckboard, Todd sat on his knees excitedly drinking in all the noise and activity of the thriving Brookswood with a smile on his face that just wouldn't quit.

Sam pulled the horses up in front of the mercantile and the men parted company to pursue their own errands with intentions of meeting up again in an hour's time to head back to the ranch.

As luck would have it, Jed's first stop was at the telegraph office. This had become routine over the years since Jed had learned to be on the lookout of messages from various different people. Lom, Abi, Kenny, Steven and even Big Mac would often have news or requests or just sending enquiries themselves as to the state of events and Jed liked to try and at least stay on top of these things.

On this particular morning however, the telegram that was waiting for him from Kenny sent a chill down his spine and knocked the air from his lungs in less time than it took him to read it. Jed cursed under his breath and made a run for the door, leaving a rather surprised Clayt staring after him and wondering what the emergency was THIS time. Then he just shrugged his shoulders and went back to his own business. It was probably the same emergency as all the OTHER times and sooner or later he would know all the details anyways.

Sam looked up from helping Todd helping him just in time to see Jed go running down the street and headed towards what appeared to be the doctor's house. Sam looked around to see if there was anybody chasing Jed, which, when considering the man's history wasn't beyond the realm of possibility but no; nobody was. The street was actually fairly quiet. There was no crowd gathering to suggest an incident, no yelling or crying to indicate someone in trouble or in need of a doctor. All seemed normal. Hmm.

"What's the matter with Uncle Jed?" Todd asked with some concern.

"I donno." His father answered him. "I wouldn't worry about it just yet though. Mr. Curry can be a bit flighty sometimes, I'm sure it will work itself out."

"Why do you still call him Mr. Curry?"

Sam stopped loading the bags of grain and thought about that for a moment. "I donno." He admitted. "I guess it just started out that way and I never thought to change it."

"He calls you 'Sam'." Came back a child's logic. "You should be calling him 'Jed'."

This was Todd's new father, after all. Of course he would be on an equal level with the other man. He didn't seem to mind Todd calling him Uncle Jed. Of course, Todd had never asked permission, he'd just done it—it had seemed like the natural progression of things.

Sam looked down at his son and realized that the child was quite right. How could he expect Mr. Heyes or Mr. Curry to show him respect as an equal, if he kept them up on that pedestal? Hmm, it suddenly occurred to him that he and his wife weren't going to be the only ones doing the teaching here. They were going to be the students in this family unit just as much as their two new children were going to be.

Jed came running in to the Gibson's kitchen, all stressed out and breathless and instantly sent the household into an uproar. Tricia had Nathan in his high chair, trying to get him to eat just a few mouthful's of oatmeal when the front door had come flying open with a bang causing both the inhabitants to jump in surprise.

Nathan started crying, and then angry at being startled like that instantly began throwing oatmeal onto the floor and into his mother's lap. Tricia was standing up in an instant, trying to avoid most of the food coming her way and quickly grabbed for a wash cloth. Jed came up short, suddenly realizing his rude intrusion and began to apologize.

"Oh Tricia! I'm sorry. Here, ahh, can I help?"

"No Jed. I think you've done enough, thank you."

"Oh...sorry."

Nathan was starting to calm down, but was sending Jed some nasty looks while he allowed his mother to wipe off his hands and face and then set him down on the floor to go about his business of playing with his toys.

"What's the matter Jed?" She asked in a long suffering tone while she began to clean up the mess on the table.

"Is David here?" Jed asked, starting to become agitated again.

"Well, no Jed." She told him. "You know he does his morning rounds at this time. He's got to see Mr. Cowhig with the broken leg, and Tom Lancy who got into the poison ivy and then there's..."

"Yeah, yeah okay Trich. I get the point." Jed cut her off, feeling frustrated. "It's just that I got this telegram from Kenny telling me to get over to the prison right away and bring a doctor with me! So you know what that means!"

Trisha stood up straight and looked at him. "No I don't. What does that mean?"

"Well it means that something has happened to Heyes!" He explained as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. "And that he needs me to come and to bring a doctor with me!"

"Don't they have a doctor there already?" Trisha asked quite reasonably.

"Well, yeah..."

"So why do they need David?"

"Well, I don't know...but he just says...'Come now! Bring doctor!' I mean...what else could it mean!?"

"I don't know Jed." She smiled though she was tired. "I suppose."

"When will he be back?"

"He's usually back for lunch." She said. "You know that."

"Lunch!? That's two or three hours from now!"

"Yes it is."

"But we've gotta go now!"

"Jed, calm down. Have a cup of coffee."

"BUT...!"

"You know the next train for Laramie doesn't leave here until later tonight." Tricia reminded him. "So you can't leave before then anyways."

"Oh yeah." Jed ran his hands through his curls and started to pace. "There's gotta be another way. I know! We'll ride in to Denver and catch the stagecoach from there!"

"And you'll arrive in Laramie twelve hours after the train does." Trich calmly pointed out. "Try to relax Jed. Send a telegram to Kenny letting him know that you received the message and that you'll be there as soon as possible. Then you and David can catch the train this evening and be on your way. Now sit down and I'll join you in a cup of coffee. I'll let David know when he comes home for lunch so after you've calmed down a little bit you can just carry on with your day and be ready to go tonight."

Jed sighed in frustration, but now that he had settled his mind a little bit, he realized that Tricia was right and that there was really nothing for it. He nodded acquiesce and sat down to accept the cup and try to settle his nerves.

Ten minutes into their visit there came a soft knocking on the front door and a woman's voice calling to them.

"Hello Tricia! Anybody home?"

"Oh yes! Randi, come in!" Tricia beckoned her.

Jed instantly stood up to greet the newcomer. A young woman, just a bit older than Tricia, but very similar in type and colouring came into the kitchen and then smiled in surprise at Tricia entertaining a man in her home, without her husband present. Tricia smiled at the look she got.

"Miranda." She began, pointedly. "I would like you to meet mine and David's friend; Jed Curry."

"Oh."

"Jed, this is my cousin Miranda."

"How do you do Miss. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Yes." She smiled at him. "And it's Ma'am actually."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Well, I am a widow, so..."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Randi, stop putting Jed on edge." Tricia told her with a roll of her eyes. "I've had a hard enough time getting him to calm down as it is."

Miranda smiled, her dark eyes sparkling. "Yes. I'm sorry Mr. Curry." She apologized sincerely. "I do have a terrible habit of teasing people before they've even had the chance to get to know me."

"Well that's alright Ma'am." Jed answered her. "Actually I'm kinda used to that."

"Join us for a coffee?" Tricia asked her cousin.

"Certainly." She agreed and everyone sat down at the table again while Tricia poured her a cup and replenished the ones already on the table.

"So how long do you intend to stay in town Ma'am?" Jed asked by way of conversation.

"Oh, please call me Miranda...or Randi...or Randa...or Tricia's cousin, or that crazy woman down the road...or..."

"Randa! Stop it." Tricia reprimanded her, but smiling all the same. "You're going to give Jed here the wrong impression."

Jed was grinning. He wasn't quite sure yet, but he thought he liked her.

"Well you can call me Jed...or Jedidiah...or Curry, or Kid...or Thaddeus...or Jones..."

"Oh please!" Tricia complained.

"Anyway, to answer your question 'Jed'; I don't really know yet." Randa answered him. "Certainly through the summer and then after that, well I'll see how I fit in here. It seems a nice enough town."

"Yes, Miranda it is a nice town." Jed assured her. "My partner and I came by for a visit five years ago and now I call the place 'home'."

Miranda smiled. "That is reassuring." She admitted. "Hopefully I'll find it just as welcoming."

"Yes ma'am.' Then he smiled over at his friend and pushed the chair back to stand up. "Tricia, thank you for the coffee. I think I feel better now."

"Good." She said. "Don't worry Jed; I'll tell David as soon as I see him. Everything will be alright, you'll see."

"Hmm." Jed wasn't feeling quite as confident of that as Tricia seemed to be. "I best be gettin' on with the errands. Can't be leaving Sam to do it all. Miranda, it was nice to meet you. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."

"Yes Jed." She smiled at him. "It was nice to meet you too. Goodbye."

After Jed was well and truly gone, the two ladies locked eyes and then both broke up laughing.

"Oh my goodness!" Miranda exclaimed, putting one hand on her chest and theatrically fanning her face with the other. "He is far cuter than the pictures in the newspapers depict! What a waste if they'd actually hanged him!"

"Yes, Jed certainly can turn a lady's head." Tricia agreed. "Half the time I don't even think he's aware of it."

"It's those eyes." Randa stated confidently. "A black and white photo just doesn't do them justice."

"Well, you be careful." Tricia warned her. "He's courting Beth Jordan and it would not be a good introduction for you in this town if you tried to break that up."

"Oh no." Miranda assured her cousin. "I don't mind looking, but I'm not ready for that yet. I need time to get my own life sorted out before trying to fit in with someone else's."

"Yes, I know." Tricia sympathized. "This has been a difficult year for you. You're wise to give things time to settle."

Miranda nodded. "Besides." She mused. "An ex-outlaw? It sounds all very romantic and everything, from a dime novel point of view—but I don't need that kind of headache."

The two cousins smiled at each other and Tricia replenished their coffee's.

Warden Mitchell was anything but pleased when his secretary knocked on the office door and announced that Mr. Dalton from the Prison Board was there to see him. Mitchell put on his best face and indicated to show the man in. The knot in his stomach was already starting to build, but he saw no other way out of this, so may as well get it over with and move on. This was getting ridiculous.

"Mr. Dalton!" Mitchell smiled pleasantly, shaking the official's hand. "What a surprise to see you again so soon. Please, have a seat."

"Hmm." Dalton retrieved his hand, fighting the impulse to wipe it against his trouser leg before sitting down."

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Mitchell asked innocently, even though he knew damn well what it was about.

"The Board has received word that you have once again indulged in unwarranted punishments, Mr. Mitchell." Dalton informed him. "And upon Hannibal Heyes at that. You seem to have a vendetta against this particular inmate Mr. Mitchell. Why is that?"

Mitchell swallowed and tried to hold his smile. "A vendetta? I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" Dalton pushed him. "We have no issue with you punishing a prisoner for attempting escape. Indeed, the lash is the accepted form of punishment for that transgression, although I must admit that the Board does have some doubt as to the inmate's actual involvement in this particular attempt. Still, one must set an example.

"However, we do take acceptation to you imposing the death penalty, even upon an inmate, when there is no real proof that he committed the crime in question."

The smile left Mitchell's face and turned into a thin hard line.

"The murdered man himself gave Mr. Carson the name of his attacker." Mitchell pointed out. "What more proof do we need?"

"Well, considering that Mr. Carson is also under suspicion of misconduct, I would have to say a lot more proof is needed before a man is put to death." Then Dalton smiled coldly. "Don't you agree, Mr. Mitchell?"

"Well I..."

"Good! I have given Officer Reece permission to remove the inmate from the dark cell and, providing he is still alive, to move him to the infirmary where hopefully he will get the treatment he requires. I realize, of course, that the prison is short a doctor and a new one will be provided as soon as possible. In the mean time, Sister Julia, whom I believe has some medical knowledge is on her way here as we speak.

" Also Mr. Curry has been informed of the situation and is also on his way here. I believe he is bringing a doctor with him who can be trusted to give the inmate the medical attention he will require to recover. As long as Mr. Heyes lives long enough for the doctor to get here, that is.

"These people will all be given total access to the inmate and to the infirmary until Mr. Heyes is recovered enough to give his own testimony as to what happened before, during and after this particular escape attempt.

"Now, you and Mr. Carson may of course continue on with your duties here until such time as it is shown that you are not worthy of them. But you are being assessed Mr. Mitchell and the running of this prison is being scrutinized and if anything suspicious or untoward were to happen to any of the people involved in this current situation, well...let's just say things might not be too pleasant for you in the office that you currently hold.

"Do we have an understanding, Mr. Mitchell?"

Throughout this monologue Mr. Mitchell's jaw had hardened into a tight fist and his complexion had run the gauntlet from a ghostly pale to a deep purple and then to a blotchy combination of both before settling back onto pale again.

"Good." Dalton accepted the non-answer as conformation. "And I wouldn't be bothering your friend, the Governor at this time." The official continued as he stood up in preparation of leaving. "What with President Harrison newly elected, Mr. Moonlight has his own worries right now. Good day Mr. Mitchell."

The train ride to Laramie was anything but relaxing. Jed had tried to work himself into exhaustion that day in the hopes of being able to sleep during the ride and thereby help the time to go by faster. No such luck. The trip was a nightmare. He just could not settle. Every minute seemed like an hour and every delay an eternity. He fussed and fretted and wouldn't shut up. David tried to sleep and probably would have too, except that every time he was just about to drop off, another question or statement would suddenly get thrown his way.

"Why do think Kenny asked me to bring a doctor?" Jed would ask for the umpteenth time. "They have their own doctor, why can't he take care of whatever is wrong?"

"I donno Jed. We'll find out when we get there."

"Maybe Heyes is so sick this time that Doc Morin doesn't know what to do!"

"Maybe. But from what Hannibal has told me about him, he seems quite capable."

"Yeah, but then why would he be asking me to bring a doctor with me?"

Heavy sigh. "I donno Jed. We'll find out when we get there."

"Hmm."

Silence reigned. David felt himself drifting off to sleep.

"I met Tricia's cousin today."

David jumped, startled awake—again. "Oh yes? Quite the crackerjack isn't she?"

"Yeah. Seemed kinda fidgety—in a nice sorta way. She's a widow?"

"Yes. She married a much older man, lots of money. Very much involved with politics and that sort of thing. Trish insists she married for love though, and when he died last year she was quite devastated."

"Ohm, that's too bad. So she's a rich widow then?"

"Yes."

"She better be careful—lots of gold-diggers around. She's pretty too. Yeah, she better be careful."

"I don't think she's too interested in getting married again, at least not for awhile. Probably a good thing. She'll have her wits about her more once she's over this loss. Trish is trying to be supportive in that sense. She just needs some time to settle in."

"Yeah."

Silence again. David actually lost consciousness until a sudden movement woke him up.

Jed had slapped the arm of the chair in frustration and then was up on his feet and pacing the isle of the car, receiving some nasty looks from a few of the other passengers who were also trying to sleep.

"How come he asked me to bring a doctor? Geez, Heyes must really be sick. He was fine last time I saw him—good spirits even. I wonder what's happened. He must really be sick."

Another heavy sigh from the good and patient doctor. He didn't bother to answer Jed this time since obviously it wasn't required, Jed just needed to talk and pace.

Odd that, David surmised through bleary eyes; it was always Hannibal who did the pacing when he was worried or trying to sort out a problem. Jed had always seemed to be able to relax and just wait things out. Was it different this time because it was his partner's welfare that was in question or was it something else?

David had noticed how Jed had become more and more independent over the years, stepping up and taking control of a situation instead of waiting for him or Jesse to lead the way. When Jed was with Hannibal, by his own admittance he'd always just sit back and trust his partner to do the thinking for them, now though Jed was the one doing the thinking and making the decisions for both of them. Gradually Jed had taken on the role of being the leader, of making the important decisions. Maybe that pacing was part of the package of being the one in charge.

David mulled that over in his brain for a few moments. Interesting concept, but still he wished that the new leader would simply go back to deferring the thinking to someone else and just go lite somewhere maybe!

Yes; it turned in to a very long train ride.

Kenny met Jed and David at the train depot and once quick introductions were made, the three men headed straight out to the prison. Kenny rented a surrey and tied his own horse to the back of it so that he could fill the two men in on events while they were in transit. Jed sat silently, his teeth and fists getting tighter and tighter in frustrated anger with every word that Kenny spoke. David, though also upset by what he was hearing was able to remain detached and professional and to ask all the relevant questions at all the relevant times in order to be as medically informed as possible before even stepping foot inside the infirmary.

Driving into the prison yard was a daunting experience for David. Jed had been here enough times now that the atmosphere no longer bothered him, but even though it was a warm summer day, David felt a chill go through him when he found himself surrounded by those high grey walls. No wonder so many of Hannibal's letters had been filled with a feeling of hopelessness and despair. David could feel those emotions now and he was far from being a prisoner here.

Kenny pulled the horse up near the same door that the escaping inmates had used and one of the trustees came forward to hold the animal's head while the men disembarked, then he led the rig along with the saddle horse over to the stables to get them settled in. There was no telling how long the doctor was going to be here for. It might be for an hour, or it might be for a week. Word on the silent grape vine was that Hannibal Heyes was not likely to survive. Oh well.

"This way gentlemen." Kenny led them over to that door and pulled on the rope there. All three men heard a bell clanging inside the walls.

Within a couple of minutes they could hear someone on the inside unlocking the heavy door and then swinging it open. It was Pearson, he stepped aside to let the men enter into the hallway.

"How's he doing?" Kenny asked.

Pearson shrugged. "He's still breathing. Bloody miracle if you ask me."

Jed and David exchanged a quick glance as Pearson shut and locked the door again and the four men carried on down the corridor towards the infirmary. They arrived at the last door and Pearson unlocked it and pushed it open, allowing the doctor to enter ahead of them.

Upon first entering, David was impressed with the infirmary; it was larger and better stocked then he had imagined it would be and appeared to be laid out in a very professional manner. It spoke well of the previous physician and David found himself fleetingly wishing that he could have met the man.

"Oh Thaddeus! Thank goodness!" Sister Julia instantly came over to her friend and hugged him which in itself made Jed even more worried. "We were so afraid you wouldn't get here in time."

"Sister Julia." Jed whispered to her as he returned her hug and then pulled away from her and introduced her to David. "This is David Gibson, Sister. He's about the best doctor I know."

"Oh, thank the Lord." She said, taking David's hand. "I've done the best that I know how, but I'm no doctor. Please, come and see what you can do."

And, still not releasing David's hand she led the group across the ward and over to the only occupied bed in the infirmary. The young novice, Marilyn was sitting beside the patient and applying cold compresses to his head and neck in a futile attempt to keep the obvious fever at bay. Marilyn quickly stood up and stepped out of the way so that the doctor and his 'assistant' could get in to examine the patient

David put his bag down beside the bed while he stared at the inmate almost in disbelief.

"Oh my goodness!" He whispered, feeling a fear clutch at his heart. "Oh Hannibal. What have they done to you?"

Heyes was lying on his stomach, his head turned to the left, the side that David approached him on. His arms were lying straight down alongside his torso and he was covered by a sheet from the waist down. His back was covered by layers of gauze and drops and streaks of blood could be seen spaced sporadically across it. He was breathing in short shallow gasps and it was hard to tell if he was actually conscious or not.

Jed approached his friend on his right and gently touched the back of his bald head. He didn't say anything, he couldn't. There were just no words he could find that could express the anguish that was sucking the breath from his lungs and the strength from his legs. With his other hand he took hold of the gauze and started to lift it.

"No! Jed don't..."

But David was too late with his warning and Jed lifted the gauze and took a look at his friend's back. Jed sucked in a ragged gasp and taking a step back in his shock he sat down hard in the chair just recently vacated by Marilyn.

"Oh...God..." Was all he could get out as the blood drained from his face, and with his right hand clutching his friend's shoulder, his left came up to cover his own mouth in an effort to keep down the bile. "Oh my God." Jed sat there, gasping and trying to regain control of his stomach while he shut his eyes in a vain effort to block out the sight of what was left of his friend's back.

"It'll heal, Jed." David assured him quietly. "It'll take time and consistent effort, but it will heal."

Jed gave a barely perceptible nod but continued to sit as he was for a few more minutes giving himself time to recover from the shock of what he had just seen. Anger was already beginning to build in him, but he pushed it aside to deal with later; he knew he was going to need to be focused if he was going to be able to help David help Heyes.

David gave Jed his time to recover, and pulling up another chair he sat down beside the bed and went about the business of examining the patient. He placed a cool hand against Heyes' forehead and cheeks and not surprisingly, felt heat. Despite the constant bathing with cold compresses, he was burning up. Heyes groaned and pulled away.

"It's alright." David tried to reassure him. "It's alright Hannibal, just relax."

David stroked his head, trying to calm him but Heyes lashed out with one of his arms and tried to push himself onto his side in an effort to get away. David stood up and pulled back, hoping to give his friend time to calm down; he was obviously delirious.

"Has he been like this all along?" David asked the Sister.

Sister Julia sighed and nodded regretfully and David suddenly noticed how exhausted both she and her novice were looking.

"Yes." The Sister informed him quietly. "He's actually calmed down for the moment. Ever since he came in here yesterday he's been raving and fighting everything we've tried to do for him. Almost as though he doesn't want us to help him."

David frowned, not sure what to make of that, and then all eyes turned to Heyes as he started to mumble something.

"No..." He whispered so softly that David and Jed had to lean into him to pick up the words. "Don't want to...no...no...sorry Kid...not your fault...don't want ta' go back..."

"He's been saying that over and over again." Sister Julia informed them quietly, almost wringing her hands in her distress. "I don't know what he means. And then he starts to fight against us."

David nodded and then moved towards the patient again. He put a hand on Heyes' shoulder, hoping that the touch would calm him, but it had the exact opposite effect. Heyes' breathing increased and he kicked out, forcing David to jump back or end up with a bruising. He very nearly cursed but then caught himself in time as he remembered whose company he was in.

He looked over at Jed. That young man was still looking somewhat pale from the bloody sight that had met his eyes, but concern over his friend had taken over and it seemed to David that he was pulling himself together.

"You alright now Jed?"

Jed nodded and gave a deep sigh. "Yeah. I think so. It's just..."

"Yeah, I know." David assured him. "But I could use your help right now, if you're able. If you're not, there's no shame in that, just say so."

"No, I can help you David. Just tell me what you need."

"I have to examine him one way or another." David explained. "Perhaps if you talk to him, your voice might calm him down."

Jed nodded and moved in to stand beside the bed on the opposite side from the doctor. He placed a hand on Heyes' shoulder and another on his head, stroking him, hoping to keep him calm.

"Heyes, it's me, Kid." Jed spoke softly. "Can ya' hear me Heyes?"

Heyes turned his head, his breathing heavy and painful. He opened his eyes to slits, but what shone through was frightening to behold as the fire from the fever burned and danced and consumed conscious thought. He tried to push himself onto his back, towards the sound of the distant but beloved voice and he cried out in pain.

"Shhhh, Heyes...no..." Jed knelt beside the bed, trying to take his cousin into his arms, but scared to death that the contact was going to hurt him even more than he was already hurting. "Heyes...it's alright. Ya' gotta let David take a look at ya'. Alright?"

"Kid...?"

"Yeah Heyes. It's me, I'm here."

"Gotta tell ya'..."

"What Heyes? What do ya' havta tell me?"

"Morin...Karma...steak..."

Jed was understandably confused. He looked over to Kenny who was standing out of the way, but still tense with the drama being played out before him. He felt useless and out-of-place. He saw Jed send him that questioning look and he shook his head and shrugged.

"I donno Jed." He admitted. "He was saying that when we brought him out of the cell and it just didn't make any sense. I was hoping you might know."

Jed shook his head as well. "I don't...obviously I know the words, but what they're supposed to mean together like that..."

"Kid...gotta tell ya'..."

"Yeah Heyes, I'm listening."

"Don' feel bad...I wan' to...no' y' fault..."

"What's not my fault Heyes?"

Then Heyes became agitated again and began to fight, he pushed himself out of Jed's loose embrace and would have fallen right out of the bed if David hadn't been there to block him.

"NO!...no!...don't want...to...go back...!"

Both Jed and David grabbed onto Heyes to try and keep him from falling onto the floor. Even Kenny got in to the fray and helped to hold him down. But delirium had taken control and Heyes was yelling and fighting for all he was worth. David tried to get the attention of the second guard.

"YOU! You there!" David called over to him. "Officer...?"

"OH! Ah, Pearson, sir."

"Officer Pearson, get over here! Now!"

Pearson was instantly over by the doctor and David stepped out of the way for him to take over.

"Hold him down, as best you can! All three of you! Hold him!"

David grabbed his own medical bag and ran over to the supply cabinet. Sister Julia quickly joined him to assist and to help him find anything that he might need in this unfamiliar infirmary. Marilyn stood still, watching nervously, not quite sure what she was suppose to be doing.

Heyes continued to yell and fight like a man possessed. The gauze covering his back had long since been tossed to the floor, the sheet covering his nakedness was kicked to the foot of the cot. He was oblivious, he was fighting for his life—or more appropriately, for his death since life was no longer what he wanted.

Jed was practically in tears; this was ripping him apart, seeing his friend in such agony and having no idea where it was coming from or what it was about—let alone how to help him. He tried to whisper assurances to him but his words were drowned out by the nonsensical ravings of a madman! Then David was back, and holding a syringe out of harms way, he wasted no time in plunging the needle into the fleshy part of Heyes' buttock and shooting the strong sedative directly into his system.

He pulled the needle out and quickly handed the empty syringe back to Sister Julia who instantly disposed of it and then he turned his attention back to the patient.

"Hold him steady." David instructed, though somewhat needlessly since nobody was letting go. "Just wait until he relaxes."

The ward was filled with a strained silence as everyone waited for the sedative to take effect. Even Heyes was no longer yelling. The volume had dropped down to a strangled murmuring and unintelligible mutterings until finally he coughed a couple of times and then released a heavy sigh. Everyone felt his muscles relax and go limp but were still hesitant in letting him go, just in case it was a ruse.

Finally David stood up and gave everyone the nod.

"Alright." He said. "He's out."

Everybody relaxed then and six pairs of lungs let go a large sigh of relief. Jed reached down and pulled the sheet back up to cover his friend again. David sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Is this how he has been behaving since you brought him in here?"

"Yes!" Came four voices in one.

"Oh my goodness." David moaned. "No wonder you're all so exhausted."

Everyone waited for instructions and David brought both his hands up to rub his face while he organized his thoughts and put together a game plan.

After a few moments David went and retrieved his satchel and returned to the left side of the bed while Reece and Pearson both backed off to give him room. Jed stood where he was and continued to stroke his partner's head, looking a little shocky himself.

David pulled out his stethoscope and settled in to getting down to business.

"Alright Sister, if you and your novice could come and assist me please."

The two ladies quickly came over to the bed and David rolled the patient onto his side.

"If you could all just hold him there while I examine him that would help."

David started in, checking the heart rate, lifting an eye lid and checking the pupils, feeling his skin—all the simple little things that could tell a learned man so much about what was going on with a sick or injured person. Heyes unfortunately, was both. David put the stethoscope to work then and began listening to his chest, tapping here and there and moving it around the whole area until he was satisfied that he had all the information he could gather from that.

David ran his hands skillfully around Heyes' head checking for any injuries there and then carefully tipped his head to the side and ran a finger along the jaw line.

"What's this here?" He asked quietly. "That's quite a deep cut but it wasn't made by the bull whip." David frowned and leaned in for a closer look. "Looks like a thin blade….or a scalpel?"

"Yeah." Kenny conceded. "Boeman cut him with a scalpel just before the lawmen showed up."

David nodded. "Hmm. It's deep but it's clean. It should heal, we'll just keep an eye on it."

Then David tilted Heyes' chin up a little bit and noticed the pencil thin line running right across his throat, from ear to ear. The cut wasn't deep and certainly not life threatening, but it would have been a cruel 'joke' none the less. He quietly shook his head, but didn't comment on it; he figured that Jed had enough to deal with right now.

Next he gently ran a hand down the patient's arms, pulling them out one at a time and probing through the muscles and tendons all the way down through the wrists and into each finger. He pursed his lips as he put the arms back into place, but continued to caress the wrists.

"What are these burns here?" He asked no one in particular.

"Those are from the manacles." Kenny informed him. "During that walk back to the prison, the sun heated the metal cuffs up so much that they burned his skin."

David nodded, trying not to get angry, trying to stay professional. Then his fingers ran gently over the welts that were old but still very apparent.

"And these welts?" He asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"That's from the-strappado." Kenny admitted, feeling ashamed as though it was himself who had committed the act rather than trying to stop it. "They never did fully heal."

"No." David mumbled as he massaged the welts. "Probably never will now. The muscles in his shoulders are also still very tender. When he recovers from this we'll have to spend some time on that injury or he will be in pain for the rest of his life."

Kenny just nodded again, still feeling guilty simply by association.

David sighed and moved on. He pushed the sheet back and checked the patient for any signs of bruising or other traumas along his buttocks and thighs but they seemed alright. He pulled the sheet back up and then uncovered his feet and ankles, then pursed his lips again as he discovered more injuries.

"These blisters on his feet...?"

"Again, from the walk back to the prison." Kenny informed him. "Prison shoes aren't really made for cross-country trekking. I'm still amazed he made it at all."

David nodded and then looked to the Sister.

"You've been soaking them haven't you?" He asked her.

"Yes."

"Warm water?"

"With salt."

David nodded again. "Good." He voiced his approval. "Good. I can tell. Keep it up Sister; it will definitely help them to heal." He covered the raw looking feet again and then looked to the novice.

"I'm sorry young lady—what's your name?"

"Marilyn, sir."

David smiled. "Marilyn. Could you please gather up about three pillows and bring them here?"

Marilyn nodded and went about that errand. David looked over to the guards.

"Officer Reece, is there a tub available? And ice?"

"Yeah, well Doc Morin has a tub here all the time; I believe he keeps it in the other office when it's not in use. It actually has wheels so it can be placed where it's needed. As for ice, there is a place to store that right off the kitchen."

David nodded. "Okay. I'm not sure if I'm going to need those items yet but it's good to know that they are available, just in case." Then he looked over to Jed. "He is very weak. I'm amazed that he was able to fight us the way he did, but delirium can take over a body and give it strength it shouldn't normally have." David paused, thinking about it. "His temperature is quite high and my biggest concern right now is that it could spike and then we'd really be in trouble. Sister, you and your novice have been using cold compresses to keep him cool?'

"Yes." Sister Julia stated. "Ever since he came in here."

"Good. Also, though it seems contradictory I want you to put warm compresses against his chest. That should help to break up the congestion in his lungs. It's a balancing act at this point. Heat to clear out the lungs, but cold to break the fever."

"Well what's the tub and ice for then?" Jed asked, feeling confused. He'd had pneumonia a few times himself, but never woke up in a tub of ice.

"That's if things get really desperate." David explained. "It would be a last ditched effort to break the fever if it spikes."

"Why leave it to the last minute?" Jed asked reasonably. "If it'll break the fever why don't we just do it?"

"Because it would be dangerous." David continued to explain. "He's so weak Jed. And with his temperature elevated the way it is the shock of being immersed in ice could stop his heart. I don't want to take that risk unless there is no other alternative."

Jed paled just a touch. "Oh. Yeah, I guess not."

"No." Then David came around to the other side of the bed and Jed stepped out of his way. He looked more closely at the deep angry gashes made by the bull whip and then shook his head in frustrated anger. "I'll also need you to keep these wounds hydrated."

"Hydrated?" Asked Jed. "What's that?"

"Oh, wet." David explained. "I don't want those wounds to dry up so at least four times a day we'll need to use a cloth to squeeze water over the cuts. It'll keep them clean and free from infection and also seems to promote healing. It'll help to reduce the scar tissue build up as well."

"Really?" Jed sounded sceptical.

"Dr. Morin never did anything like that." Sister Julia put in, not sure she was completely comfortable with this young doctor experimenting with his radical treatments on the inmates. Especially an inmate who was also her friend.

David looked over at her and tried to give her a reassuring smile but he was getting tired of people questioning his capabilities.

"Sister, I realize that you worked with Dr. Morin for some time and that you are accustomed to the way he did things." David rationalized. "You feel a certain amount of loyalty to him and I understand that but if you are going to assist me here I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing. Hannibal is my friend too and I promise you that I'm going to do everything that I can to pull him through this. Do I have your support here Sister?"

Sister Julia arched an eyebrow and sent him an almost challenging look but Jed was quick to intervene not wanting to see a clash of wills take over the situation when what they all needed was co-operation.

"Ahh, Sister Julia." The Kid smiled at her and put a reassuring hand on her arm. "Please believe me, Heyes could not be in better hands. I'm sure that Dr. Morin was very capable and I know that Heyes was fond of him too so he couldn't have been an idiot. But Dr. Gibson is more than capable Sister, actually I would have to say that he's gifted. If anyone can pull Heyes through this, he can and if Heyes was in his right mind I know that he would be assuring you of that himself."

Sister Julia smiled up at her friend and relaxed her defensive stance.

"Yes, of course Thaddeus." She agreed. "I'm just so afraid for Joshua right now but if you say that he's in good hands, then..." She nodded and looked over to David. "Yes Doctor, of course. You have my support. Whatever you need, just tell me."

David smiled himself and nodded. "Thank you Sister. Oh, Marilyn! Yes, thank you. Just place the pillows here on the bed like so. Alright. You see, I don't want Hannibal laying on his back because those wounds need to be able to breathe, but nor do I want him laying on his chest because I want him to be able to breathe. So, if we place this pillow here at his chest so that he can rest against it, that's right. Now we move this leg up and bend the knee and place this pillow under the knee, so that supports his whole body and he can't roll onto his chest. Now this third pillow we place behind his back like this so that it will prevent him from rolling over that way."

"Oh yes." Said Marilyn as she did what the doctor described. "I'd never thought of doing that."

"Hmm. It's very effective." David commented. "Now, he'll need to be moved onto his other side every few hours, so at that time we should also change the bedding as it will probably be wet by then. This treatment does get messy, but it will work if we're consistent. Alright?"

Everybody nodded their willingness in this co-operative endeavour.

"Good."

"Ahh Doc?" Kenny spoke up.

"Yes?"

"If you don't need us, Mr. Pearson and I should return to our other duties." The guard pointed out. "I can send over a trustee to assist you, if you like."

David thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, alright." He agreed. "Just send someone to the kitchen to bring up some ground mustard, it'll help with the heat poultice."

Kenny nodded and turned to go.

"Oh! Mr. Reece?" David stopped him with his voice. "How much risk is there of Mr. Mitchell trying to sabotage our efforts here?"

Kenny gave an almost wicked smile. "I don't think you need to worry about that Doc." He commented. "Mitchell and Carson are still working their jobs, but they're being watched and they know it. I think both of them will back off of this situation for now."

"Good! Thank you."

Kenny nodded and then with a quick look to Pearson, both guards left the infirmary.

Jed had hardly noticed this interaction between David and the guards. He was so intent on his cousin that nothing else was penetrating his conscious thought at that time. He had sat back down beside his partner again and took one of the hot clammy hands into both of his and just held on tight while he watched his friend sleep.

Even in sleep Heyes' breathing was shallow and ragged and his eyes darted back and forth under the lids reacting to some intense dream that had again taken hold. Jed had been shocked at how much his friend had changed in such a short time. They had just seen one another two weeks ago and Heyes had seemed in such good spirits; he had been turning his thinking around and settling in to things better, even to the point of being willing to apologize to Sam. A ghost of a smile passed over Jed's lips when he remembered how pleased he was that Heyes finally seemed to be coming around.

Now this had to happen. Heyes looked done in. Beaten. Broken in heart and soul and Kid feared for his sanity and for his lively spirit. Suddenly, now more than ever he wished he could see Heyes again as he used to be. With the ready smile—that dimpled cheeky grin and the mischievous glint in those dark eyes. Would he ever see that man again? He was so afraid of the answer that he blocked that thought from his mind and reaching a hand over, he caressed his friend's face with a touch as gentle as a summer's breeze.

Heyes was in the grass meadow again, laying on his back in the tall waving grasses. He knew that this was just a memory, that he wasn't really here this time but it still felt so good. He knew that Karma was near, he could hear her ripping at the grass and her teeth grinding away at the blades, her lips smacking with the pleasure of her intense grazing.

Heyes smiled. It was so peaceful here; he never wanted to be anywhere else. He lay in the coolness of the grass. He could smell the warm earth and the subtitles of the numerous wildflower scents floating round him. This was paradise and this was where he wanted to stay. He sighed deeply with contentment and could feel the cool touch on his face that was as gentle as the summer's breeze...

David was about to get down to business when he stopped short and decided to give Jed a few moments to reconnect with his friend. The doctor watched quietly, surprised by the gentleness he was seeing in the ex-gunfighter but then again, not surprised by it either. He remembered back almost five years ago when it was Jed laying on the table and Hannibal was holding his friend's hand, terrified that he was going to lose him. There was that same look; that unconditional love that so many people seek for in their lives, but so few actually find.

It struck David as odd, at that point that he didn't know these two men within that partnership for which they were infamously remembered. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. The two most successful outlaws in the history of the west...Hmm. He considered both these men his friends, but the only time he'd seen them together was when one or the other of them was fighting for his life. He had no idea how they were together, how they reacted to each other under normal circumstances. He'd only known them as individuals and now he too, wondered if he would ever get the chance to know them within the structure of that partnership that had made them so successful.

Finally David felt that he couldn't wait any longer and he stepped forward and placed a quiet hand on the Kid's shoulder.

"Okay Jed, you can stay there with him if you like, but I need Marilyn to start working on his back, alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Alright."

Marilyn and Sister Julia quickly got organized with wash basins and cloths and lots of water from the pump and the novice set about performing her task. Jed took the other wash cloth and continued to bath his partner's face and neck and chest with the second basin hoping that he was at least doing some good here. Sister Julia set about lighting up the stove to boil water in order to prepare the warm compresses that the doctor hoped would help to clear out the lungs.

Once the stove was lit and the water put on to boil, David called the Sister to him.

"Sister, do you know where Dr. Morin kept his records?"

"Oh, yes. There in his office. Here, I'll show you."

The Sister headed off towards a side room and David, after one quick look back at his patient, turned and followed her.

She went directly over to a filing cabinet and pulled open the drawer.

"Here you are doctor, these are all his records." Then the Sister stepped back, a sadness settling over her that David understood only too well.

"I wish I could have had the chance to meet Dr. Morin." He told her gently. "From what I understand he was quite the character."

Sister Julia smiled. "Yes. His colourful antidotes caused quite a bit of consternation amongst a number of my novices. Even poor Beth found him a little bit too earthy for her tender ears. She got over it though and I know she did develop a fondness for him." And then her smile dropped and she became reminiscent. "As did we all."

"He was a fine doctor." David agreed. "I can tell that just from the condition of his infirmary and the medications he has on hand. I just want to go over Hannibal's file and see whatever notes Dr. Morin made about his past treatments. There might be useful information in there."

"Yes, of course." Julia agreed and then headed over to the table. "I actually pulled Joshua's file yesterday, intending to do that myself. But then things got hectic and I didn't have time. They're right there, on his desk."

"Oh yes, thank you. Sister, I would like Marilyn to continue what she's doing for about ten minutes, but then why don't you both get something to eat and some rest. Things seem to be quieting down for now."

"Ohhh yes." Sister Julia agreed with an exhausted sigh. "That would be very much appreciated. We've been at it for some time now."

"Yes I know." David agreed. "And thank you, I know it wasn't easy. I'll call you if things get crazy again—and they very well might."

"Well then, we'd best get some rest while we can!" The Sister gave him a tired smile and then headed back into the ward to retrieve her novice.

David sat down at the desk, suddenly realizing that he was quite tired too since, as mentioned before neither he nor Jed got much sleep on the train ride here. Jed had finally calmed down a little bit, having eventually worn himself out with worrying and pacing but by then it had been too late to do anything more than doze. David now felt his fatigue catching up with him but there were still a few things he wanted to cover before taking any kind of a break.

He opened up the folder and began to browse through the paperwork. The more he read, the more frustrated he became.

The first entry was for pneumonia and it was quite the battle to bring the patient out of it. Dr. Morin gave much of the credit to Sister Julia as she had spent endless hours bathing the ill man with cool compresses and calming him in his delirium.

The second entry was for a cracked rib and extensive bruising

The third entry was for a broken arm and concussion—and extensive bruising.

The fourth entry was for a broken rib and two broken fingers—and extensive bruising.

The fifth entry was for (and David felt a chill go through him.) pulled muscles, torn tendons, deep lacerations around the wrists—and extensive bruising.

David read all the notes associated with each of the injuries and on the most part, nodded his approval, the only time he pursed his lips and looked pissed was when Dr. Morin went into details about the injuries and how they were incurred. He also noted how many times Dr. Morin mentioned Sister Julia and her endless energies when it came to administering aid and assistance with not only this inmate, but others as well. She was definitely a valued ally.

Then David picked up the pen, dipped it in the ink jar and began to make his own entry.

'July 16th, 1888. Attending physician; Dr. David Gibson.

Patient: Hannibal Heyes.

Symptoms: Deep lacerations on the back caused by bull whip.

Deep cut across left jaw bone caused by scalpel

Minor cut across throat caused by scalpel

Blisters on feet

Burns on wrists

Congestion in the lungs

High fever

Delirium

Prognosis: Influenza developing into pneumonia.

Treatments: Hot mustard compresses to break up fluid in the lungs

Cold compresses to break the fever

Administer quinine for fever and pain relief

Hydration of the lacerations 4 x's daily, ten to fifteen minutes at a time.

As much fluids to drink as he'll take

David put the pen down and sat back rubbing his eyes with exhaustion. He really felt as though he should be doing more but he couldn't think of what else he could be. He almost felt helpless and that was not a feeling that he liked since he had gone into medicine so that he could be of use, but this just sitting back and waiting to see was torturous for him. Still, he knew that there was nothing more they could do right now, just carry on with the treatments and hope that it would be enough.

He pushed himself away from the table then and standing up he returned to the ward. Everyone was busy with their own particular jobs. Marilyn was soaking the lacerations; Sister Julia had the heated compress ready and without waiting for the mustard powder to arrive was attempting to apply them to the patient's chest. Heyes was protesting a little through the sedative, but he was so weak that his protestations were for not and the Sister managed to apply her treatment.

Jed was busy applying the cold compresses to every area of Heyes' body that he could think of. One was on his forehead, another on his neck. More were under the armpits, one on the groin, others behind the knees and even more on the feet. Jed was leaving no inch of available body parts left unattended. He was determined.

David went over to the medicine cabinet and found the supply of quinine powder. He mixed a dosage and poured it into a syringe and then attached the needle. He walked over to the patient and Jed got out of his way, but watching intently all the same He was so protective of his partner when he was this vulnerable that he was suspicious of everyone. But David just smiled at him, giving him reassurance and then pulled one of Heyes' arms out from the bed and began pressing his thumbs into the flesh in order to bring up a vein. Once he had one, he straightened the arm and inserted the needle in under the skin, releasing the medication into the bloodstream. He withdrew the needle and bent Heyes' elbow so that pressure was placed upon the entry location to stop any bleeding that may have been caused by the insertion.

"Here, doctor." Julia held out her hand. "I can take that if you like."

David looked up, almost not seeing her, but then smiled and handed her the empty syringe.

"Thank you." He said. "You ladies should go and get something to eat and some rest. We'll stay with him until you return. Actually when you get down to the kitchen could you ask them to send up coffee and sandwiches or something? That would help."

"Certainly doctor." The Sister smiled and then she and Marilyn headed out for some respite.

Twenty minutes later, Kyle arrived pushing a trolley with a coffee pot, a large container of hot soup and a pile of hefty sandwiches along with all the utensils required to enjoy it. Everyone settled in for lunch and a long shift. He had also brought the mustard powder, though he couldn't for the life of him understand why they would be wanting that with soup.

By the time the ladies returned from their break some hours later both Jed and David were stretched out on a couple of the other cots and Kyle was busy with the cold compresses. Heyes' condition had not worsened nor improved and he was still laying on his right side and unresponsive to any and all of the activity around him.

Sister Julia smiled at Kyle as she approached the patient. "Mr. Murtry. Thank you. We can take over now, but perhaps first you can help us to roll him over onto his other side."

Kyle gave her a toothy grin. "Yes Ma'am."

Both David and Jed reacted to the voices and got up themselves to come over and assist with the move. And David, of course wanted to check on his patient—indeed he hadn't meant to fall asleep and just hoped that he hadn't missed any vital changes with the injured and sick man.

"Okay." David mumbled sleepily as he approached the bed and began to check Heyes over for any changes in his condition. "Hmm, his temperature isn't coming down, that's odd; I would have thought…."

"Honest Doc, I been real diligent with the cloths…." Kyle was quick to defend himself, thinking that the doctor was perhaps blaming him for the patient's lack of improvement.

"No no, Mr. Murtry." David assured him with a tired smile. "You've done very well. We'll just have to keep at it, that's all."

"Yeah, sure Doc."

"Okay, so if we can just roll him over onto his other side." Everybody had a hand in rolling the patient over and getting him re-organized. "Yes, that's right. There we go. Okay, get those pillows around him again. There good. Sister, could you heat up some more compresses please?"

"Yes, of course."

Sister Julia went off to do that and David checked Heyes' pupils again not really understanding why his condition had not improved at all. It was frustrating; as though Heyes wasn't even trying to fight the fever, as though he were just letting it take hold of him. David stood for a few moments, his hand resting on Heyes' shoulder, looking at him and watching him sleep. He wished he could see inside his mind; get in behind those closed eye lids and understand what he was thinking, or dreaming and then maybe have a better idea as to how to help him.

Then the Sister arrived with the hot compresses smelling uncomfortably of mustard, and Marilyn was right behind her with the basin of cool water. Jed took over for Kyle and the treatments began all over again.

A few hours after that Heyes' temperature did come down and he seemed to be resting easier. Everybody was hoping that they had turned the corner now and that the patient was on the upswing. Kyle was asleep, Marilyn was making tea for everyone and Jed was again sitting beside his partner, holding his hand and hoping that the coolness of it wasn't just his imagination. Everyone was tired.

Jed rested his head on his arm on the cot beside where Heyes was laying. His eyes were burning with exhaustion and he just wanted to sleep, but his mind wouldn't let him. He felt a touch on his shoulder and looked up to see David handing him a cup of tea.

"Drink this Jed." The doctor ordered. "Maybe it'll help you feel better."

"Yeah." Jed took the cup almost in a daze, but then found that sipping the hot liquid did seem to calm his stress a bit and relax his worries.

Still, he sat quietly, watching his cousin, holding his hand and sipping his tea and then it was that he started to notice some subtle changes. Heyes' breathing began to quicken and his eyes behind the lids were active, darting back and forth as though in some wild dream. He groaned and tried to roll over onto his back but the pillow behind him stopped him from doing it. Jed watched him for a moment and then noticed that the hand he was holding was suddenly hot and clammy again—all the coolness that they had worked so hard to achieve was gone from it.

"David!" Jed called, the tension in his voice and body alerting the doctor to trouble without Jed having to say anything more.

David was over to the bedside in an instant, his hand to Heyes' forehead and a couple of fingers on his pulse.

"Dammit! Dammit, dammit." David was mumbling under his breath, no longer being concerned about his language in front of the Sister.

"What!?" Now Jed was alarmed. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"His temperature is spiking!" David announced. "Dammit! I'd hoped we'd diverted this! Mr. Murtry. Mr. Murtry!"

"KYLE!" Kid yelled at him and Kyle awoke with a start and then was instantly on his feet.

"Yeah, what?"

"Get down to the kitchen!" David ordered him. "Get ice! Lots of it! And something to break it up with! Go! NOW!"

"I'll go and help him." Jed offered.

"NO! Jed I need you here!" David countered him. "Mr. Murtry, if you come across Officers Reece or Pearson, get them to help you—get anybody! But get that ice up here!"

"Yeah alright Doc!"

And Kyle was on the run, heading for the kitchen. Sister Julia and Marilyn were up and ready for orders and David did not disappoint them.

"Get that tub in here!" He told them. "And start pumping water into it—about a foot! GO!"

"Jeez David! You said that doing this could kill him!" Jed pointed out, really worried now and not letting go of his partner's hand. "Do you really think….?"

"Jed…" David tried to hold his temper and he clenched his jaw with the effort. "His fever is spiking—do you understand?! If we don't get it down fast his brain will cook! And then he's dead anyways! The ice might kill him—the fever will! WHICH WAY DO YOU WANT TO GO HERE!?"

Jed paled and his respiration quickened to match that of his partner's. "Oh God! Yeah…yeah, okay. Let's get him into the tub."

"Good! Thank you."

The sheet was pulled back and all the pillows and compresses were tossed aside just as the Sister and Marilyn began to roll the tub into the ward and aim it awkwardly over to the patient's bed. David got hold of Heyes under his arms and Jed grabbed his feet and together the two men easily lifted the light-weight man off the bed and over to the tub. They lowered him gently into the foot of cool water and settled him in so that he was leaning against the back of the tub.

Heyes gasped and his breathing became rapid and ragged. He fought against them, trying to get away from their ministrations, but he was so weak that his efforts were in vain. David held onto his shoulders, trying to settle him and then reached out for the cloths that were still on the bed. Jed grabbed them and brought them over and then both he and David began to wash the cool water over Heyes' body hoping to at least slow the spiking down until the ice got there.

It seemed an eternity before they heard the squeak, squeak of a wheelbarrow being pushed in their direction. Everybody looked towards the open door of the ward and beheld quite the procession. Kyle was pushing the wheelbarrow but both Kenny and Pearson were walking along beside it, chipping away at the ice block with picks, trying to get it broken down into small pieces by the time they actually got it to the infirmary.

Kyle manoeuvred the barrow over beside the tub and then he, along with the two guards began to shovel the ice pieces into the tub with their bare hands until all was in the water. Heyes gasped again and his back arched with the drastic change of temperature. He punched out and kicked in his delirium but all he succeeded in doing was splashing water around and getting his cousin wet.

Kenny went back to chipping at what was left of the ice block while those that could fit in around the tub used cloths or just their bare hands to splash cold water and ice over the patient. Heyes tried to fight them every step of the way—yelling out in his angry delirium and trying to push them away from him. His skin was turning red with the cold, but he was still so hot to the touch. The ice in the tub was actually melting with the heat radiating off his body and he was gasping with the shock of it.

"Do you want us to get more ice Doc?" Kenny asked as he dumped the last of what they had into the tub.

"No, thank you." David answered. "This will either do it or it won't."

Everyone carried on with dousing the patient and when one person's hands became too numb with the cold another would step in to take over for them. But David and Jed stayed diligent and neither of them backed off, splashing and running water over their friend's naked body in a desperate effort to save his life.

David kept checking his pulse, his pupils, placing his hands on his forehead and face and neck, looking and praying and feeling for any changes at all in the vital signs. Heyes had stopped fighting them; he was just so weak he couldn't keep it up. He was shivering, his teeth chattering with the cold but he still felt so hot to the touch. It was such a contradiction and Jed had never experienced anything like this before. Fortunately he was too busy and focused on what they were doing to realize just how scared he actually was.

Then finally, just when Jed was wondering how long they were going to be able to keep this up, David placed his hands against Heyes' forehead again and then cupped his face and checked his pupils. He sighed, pressing his fingers against the pressure point in Heyes' neck. He looked up to find Jed intently staring at him, waiting with baited breath for the doctor's prognosis. David gave a slight, exhausted smile and nodded.

"I think we've done it." He announced. "I think the fever's broken."

Everyone gave a sigh of relief and backed off.

"No, no! We're not done yet!" David brought them all back to order. "We have to get him dried off now and warmed up. Sister! Towels and blankets please. Let's go!"

Everyone was on the move instantly. Marilyn came back quickly with towels and as David and Jed lifted Heyes out of the tub, she and Kenny both began to wrap the towels around the patient's body and rubbed him to not only dry him off but to warm him up. When those towels were wet, they grabbed fresh ones and carried on drying him off until they had him laying back down on the bed again. By that time Sister Julia had arrived back with an armful of thick blankets and these were grabbed and wrapped snugly around the patient until he was encased in a warm snug cocoon with only his eyes and nose and mouth peeking through.

Heyes had stopped shivering by this time and seemed to be resting peacefully but nobody else was. Jed continued to rub his arms through the blankets and Sister Julia and Kenny were doing the same with his legs. David continued to check his vital signs, making sure that everything was progressing in the right direction. Finally he sighed and straightened up. Again everyone was looking at him intently, waiting for the word. He looked back at them all and then nodded.

"Alright. I think we've done it." He told them quietly. "We'll have to still keep a close watch on him, and I want another mustard poultice prepared for him but I think we've turned the corner on this now."

Everybody groaned with relief and backed off.

Two hours later, Kyle had returned to his cell for the night, Kenny and Pearson had both gone home and Sister Julia and Marilyn had retired to their room to get in a night's sleep as well. Three days they had spent trying to get Heyes back from the edge and everybody was exhausted. The lights in the infirmary had been dimmed but not totally extinguished and David was asleep on one of the other cots. Jed had fallen asleep in the chair, sitting beside his partner, his head resting upon one arm while his other hand was laid upon Heyes' shoulder.

Then Jed was instantly awake. Some instinct had told him that he was needed even though there had been no outward sign of distress or even awareness from his friend. But Jed was awake and he sat up straighter and looked into his cousin's face. Nothing had changed. His breathing was slow and regular, his expression peaceful. He smelled like hot mustard.

Jed continued to watch and then, almost imperceptible; a soft sigh. Then a tip of the tongue came out, moistening the lips—a swallow, a heavier sigh and then movement under the eye lids. Jed gave a soft squeeze on the shoulder.

"Heyes?"

Another swallow and then the lips parted as a deep breath of air was taken into the lungs. A quiet cough and a groan and the head shifted, just a little bit.

"Heyes?"

And then the eyes opened, just to slits—but it was enough and Jed's heart leapt with relief and he grinned.

"Hi ya' Heyes." He whispered.

Heyes' eyes shifted slightly in the direction of the voice and Jed's smile broadened; the eyes were soft and warm—no sign of the fever that had burned in them for so long, but they were exhausted and then—what was that? Jed frowned. Was that—disappointment? No, that must have been a trick of the light. It was exhaustion that Jed saw in his cousin's eyes, that was all. Everyone was tired. Jed rubbed his partner's shoulder again.

"It's alright Heyes." He said. "We got ya' back. You're gonna be alright."

Two hours later David woke up and stretched. He always knew, even when he was asleep that he had a patient to tend to so he never slept more than a few hours at a time. When there was no one under his care he could sleep the night away without stirring a muscle, but give him a patient and he was like a mother hen. Or, as his friends liked to say; a pest.

He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes and then looked over to the sick bed. Everybody was asleep. David got to his feet and moved over to the partners and then came up to the side of the bed opposite to where Jed was sleeping. He carefully pulled the blankets away from Heyes' face and placed his hand on the forehead and the cheeks and then his throat. He took his ever present stethoscope and pulling the blankets away even more, he did a quick check of his patient's heart beat and condition of his lungs.

When he looked up again he wasn't surprised to find those quiet dark eyes open to slits and looking at him. David smiled and cupped the side of his friend's face with a cool hand.

"Hi Hannibal." He said quietly. "Good to have you back."

Heyes just sighed; a whispering sigh—a ghost of a sigh. He closed his eyes again to sleep, and a tear, just the hint of a tear—a speck of a tear sneaked out from the corner of his eye and slid silently down his cheek. David frowned and with a thumb, gently wiped the little bit of moisture from his friend's face. It was nothing, he told himself. Just exhaustion. It had been a hard battle and everyone was tired.

Then Jed stirred and sleepily looked up at the doctor.

"Oh David." He mumbled. "Is it morning?"

"No." David assured him. "But I'm awake now so why don't you go lay down on the bed for a few hours? Get some real rest."

Jed nodded and then looked down at Heyes.

"He woke up." Jed said. "Just for a moment, but he woke up."

"Yes. He just did again too. I think he's going to be fine now Jed—go get some sleep."

Jed nodded and stiffly got to his feet. He ambled over to the recently vacated bed and settled on to it. Neither man mentioned to the other anything about their concerns over their friend's state of mind. It was just exhaustion, that was all. He'll be fine.

When the grey light of early morning finally did put in an appearance everyone was already up and wrapping themselves around their first cups of coffee. Kyle eventually showed up with the trolley again, delivering what might be referred to as scrambled eggs, bacon and oatmeal and not to mention; more coffee. The fair wasn't great, but it was food—sort of, and everyone tucked in.

Kyle went over to his fellow inmate and just stood looking down at the sleeping man.

"How's he doin' Kid?"

"He's a lot better Kyle." Jed answered over a mouthful of eggs. "Fever's broke."

Kyle grinned. "Yeah, I knew he'd pull through. Those bastards ain't gonna take out Hannibal Heyes—that's fur sure."

"Yeah."

Then Kyle turned back to the assembly, still smiling with his indelible good spirits.

"Wul, I better git back." He stated and then grinned even more. "Bunch a' us is goin' over ta' paint the new school house. There's some reel purdy ladies come out ta give us lemonade and fried chicken!" Then a bit of a shadow crossed his face and he glanced back at his ex-leader. "Yeah, too bad Heyes don't feel up ta' it. He always liked them outings!"

"Well I'm sure he'll be more up to it next time." Sister Julia assured the strange little man. "And you can tell him all about this one when he's feeling better."

The grin returned to Kyle's face. "Yeah! Wul, I best be goin'. See ya' Kid!"

"See ya' later Kyle."

Everyone watched the inmate leave and then attention returned to the group again.

"That is a most unusual man." David commented. "Does nothing dampen his spirits?"

Kid smiled. "Not much." Then he shrugged. "I've seen him get down a few times but he never stays down for long. Just tumbles through life without a care in the world."

"Hmm." David nodded. "He'll probably out-live us all."

"Well." Sister Julia announced as she put down her plate. "I best be getting some broth going here; sooner or later Joshua is going to be hungry. We'll be down in the kitchen if you gentlemen need anything."

David and Jed nodded as the two ladies made their way out of the ward, then they looked at each other and then in unison looked over at the patient.

"What's the plan for today?" Jed asked. "Just watch him sleep?"

"Pretty much." David nodded. "We just have to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't have a relapse but mostly what he needs right now is rest. We have to get back to hydrating those gashes though; they kind of got ignored with all the other things going on. Matter of fact, we may as well start in on that right now."

Heyes was an easy patient to deal with that day. Almost too easy in Jed's opinion. He'd had to administer first aid to his friend on more than one occasion and the complaints and protests that generally accompanied that ordeal far surpassed anything that Jed had ever uttered—in Jed's opinion that is.

But on this day, Heyes never said a word. He would wake up periodically, but if they weren't looking right at his eyes they would never have known he was awake. He never protested at the prodding and the poking, never complained that the water was too hot or too cold. Never even groaned or sucked in his breath, and Jed knew that some of the things they had to do to him must have hurt. But nothing; no reaction, no response. They would talk to him but receive no answer.

By the time noon rolled around neither Jed nor David could hide their concern from each other any longer. But voicing their concerns did not do anything towards alleviating them, because neither of them could understand it. Even when Sister Julia and Marilyn returned early in the afternoon and tried to get him to take some soup, it ended in failure. He should have been feeling hungry, even just a little bit but short of forcing it down his throat they could not convince him to eat.

At 4:00 in the afternoon Heyes had just been returned to his bed after yet another session in a tub half filled with warm salted water to promote the healing of the gashes and blisters on his feet. The treatment even seemed to be having a positive effect on the burns on his wrists. But on his attitude and his appetite, nothing seemed to be having any effect. He didn't even blush when Marilyn walked in on him stark naked in the tub, in fact he didn't react at all and for a man who was usually quite protective of his privacy it was really making Jed nervous.

David had just shrugged it off, reasoning that being in prison for coming on four years where privacy was non-existent probably squeezed the bashfulness right out of him. Jed didn't think so. Out-growing shyness in prison around other men was one thing, but in front of a young woman, who was a novice planning on entering into a convent at that? No—something was wrong. Heyes was not recovering as he should have been and it wasn't until Kenny stopped by to check on the progress of the patient that some light was shed on the mystery.

Sister Julia and Marilyn were busy organizing sheets and towels and other items for use the next day and were occupied in their own conversation. Heyes was asleep—well, as best as they could tell—so the three men felt free to relax over tea and discuss their concerns.

David and Jed got busy bantering back and forth with their own observations and hypothesis over what could be the reason for Heyes not recovering at the rate that was expected. Perhaps he still had a low grade infection in there that hadn't been detected—that would cause the continued lethargy and lack of appetite. Or maybe he was in mourning over the Doc, that could be. After all they had been good friends...

Then Jed noticed that Kenny who had been sitting quietly and listening to the two men compare notes had suddenly lost focus and was no longer paying attention to them.

"Kenny?"

"Hmm?"

"You went away there for a second." Kid commented. "Where did you go?"

"Oh. Ahh..." Kenny sat up straighter and tried to organize his thoughts. "Well..." He began, but then hesitated again as the thoughts that came to him were hard for him to vocalize. The two other men waited patiently. "After we arrived back here at the prison and...Heyes realized that he was going to be punished again for...something." Kenny hesitated then, his jaw tightening. This wasn't easy for him. "Heyes knew he was in trouble again, and he ahh..." Kenny sighed and brought a hand up to his brow, swallowing down the knot in his throat.

"What happened, Kenny?" Jed asked, suddenly very concerned.

Kenny's look became distant—and painful. "He looked me straight in the eye and begged me to help him. He pleaded with me Jed. If he could have gotten down on his hands and knees, he would have. He was begging me to help him. And I..."

The room was heavy with silence, even the two ladies had stopped chatting. Jed and David sat and watched the guard fighting with his own emotions and then saw the hard set to his jaw as he regained control and continued on.

"I'll never forget the look in his eyes as realization dawned on him that nothing was going to save him. He had just saved my life and there was nothing I could do for him!" Kenny coughed a little, and swallowed again. "I tried to help him, but the warden wouldn't listen." Kenny shook his head. "I'm never going to forget the look in his eyes. It was as though—the light went out. Everything that made him who he was, died in his eyes right there in front of me. I knew then that he had been broken—mind and spirit, broken in two.

"I've had time to think about what he had been saying when he was delirious and..." Kenny bit his lower lip, forcing himself to go on and knowing that what he was saying was not only difficult for him, but also painful for the two men listening. "I don't think he meant that he didn't want to go back into the dark cell. I think he meant that he didn't want to come back to the living. I think he was calling out for Doc Morin because he wanted to go wherever he had gone."

Jed sat silently for a moment, his mouth open and his heart pounding in his throat. The tea was forgotten about.

"No." He finally whispered, then wet his lips to get his voice working again. "No! I don't accept that! You don't know him Kenny—he would never give up!"

"I do know him Jed." Kenny countered. "I've spent the last four years getting to know him and I know what he has been through. You didn't see the look in his eyes Jed—I did. I've seen men give up before, but I've never seen a man broken in two like that, crushed body and soul. You didn't see it Jed. If you had, you..."

Kenny stopped talking, he couldn't say anymore. It was breaking his heart just to say as much as he had, and then to see the look coming back at him from Jed made it hard for him to meet that man's gaze and that wasn't usually something that Kenny had a hard time doing.

Jed sat there shaking his head, refusing to accept even the remotest possibility that Kenny might be right.

"NO!" Jed's anger rose up and flared out. "You say you've known him for four years! I'VE KNOWN HIM ALL MY LIFE! HE WON'T GIVE UP!"

"Jed..." David tried to settle him.

"NO!" Jed hit the top of the table with his palm sending out a loud slap that rattled the cups and nearly spilled the tea. "HE WON'T GIVE UP!"

"No Jed, I don't think Officer Reece is suggesting that..."

"What's with all the yelling over there?" Came a rather feeble voice from the one and only occupied bed. "Can't a fella get any sleep around here?"

Silence in the ward as everyone's attention shifted from the altercation at the table to the patient laying in the bed. Then suddenly everyone was on the move at once. Not surprisingly Jed and David made it over to their friend first mainly because the other three people in the room deliberately held back to give them time.

Kid came over to the side that Heyes was facing, and taking hold of his hand, sat down in the chair that was waiting there for him.

"Hey Heyes." He greeted his friend quietly, a soft smile on his face. "We were gettin' worried about ya'."

"Yea, I could tell." Heyes answered him, trying to smile but not quite making it. "The only other time you yell like that is when we're late for breakfast."

Kid's soft smile turned into a grin and he stroked his friend's forehead, still feeling relieved that it felt cool even though the fever had been broken for over a day now.

"Speaking of food." David quipped in. "Will you take some soup now?"

Heyes shifted slightly and looked blearily up at the doctor.

"David." Came the slightly bemused acknowledgement. "What are you doing here?"

"Officer Reece asked me to come by and see if we could get you back on your feet."

"Ohhh. Ya' still look the same as ya' did four years ago."

David smiled. "You don't."

"Yea' I know."

"So, how about that soup?"

"Yea'."

David turned to get that looked to and almost bumped into Sister Julia who was already on her way over to the patient with a cup of soup and a spoon.

"Oh! Sister, I'm sorry."

"That's alright doctor. No harm." She smiled at him and then stepped around to the bedside. "Now, come on Thaddeus, you men go off and do something else—let us tend to the patient."

"Yes Ma'am." Jed grinned and then cupped Heyes' face in his hand for a second. "Take it easy Heyes. I'll come back when you're done."

"Yea, okay."

David and Jed went back to the table and re-joined Kenny who had decided that his best choice was to stay out of the way. The two men sat back down with sighs of relief.

"Oh man! Thank goodness." Jed stated. "He's going to be okay now, right David?"

"Well, I hope so." David gave the non-committal answer.

"Oh come on!" Jed snapped at him, frustrated with all this doom and gloom. "He's eating! He's talking! He's not broken!" That last with a sharp look to Kenny.

Kenny looked a tad contrite, but David just shook his head.

"I just don't know yet, Jed." The doctor admitted. "If he keeps eating and getting stronger, then hopefully we can get him going again. He's been through a lot and I know what Officer Reece means; there just something about him that's not right."

Jed sat back, feeling even more irritated now. He had thought that David at least would be on his side here.

"Neither one of you have known him as long as I have!" Jed pointed out defensively. "If he wasn't right, don't you think I would be the first to see it!?"

"Not necessarily Jed." David said quietly. "You're too close to him and you don't want to see it."

"Aww jeez!" Jed ran a hand through his curls. "He's gonna be fine—you'll see! Hannibal Heyes does not give up! He's gonna be fine!"

"I hope you're right." Kenny finally put in. "I'd love nothing more than for you and Heyes to prove me wrong."

Silence settled in over the table again. In the background they could hear Sister Julia and Marilyn talking to Heyes and Marilyn even laughed a little bit. Heyes was probably flirting with her again, geesh! He was incorrigible! He was gonna be fine, Jed was certain of it. He was gonna be fine—he had to be.

"Well." Kenny announced as he pushed himself to his feet. "I best be getting home. Sarah'll be waiting on me. I'll see you fellas in the morning."

The next few days went well and Heyes progressed at a steady rate. It wasn't long before he graduated from soup up to more substantial meals and his strength was building up rapidly. The time that was spent in bed, he was on his chest or his stomach, his back still being too raw and painful for any weight to be pressed onto it. He still had to be put into the tub at least four times a day to promote the healing and he had indeed come back to his old self again by protesting quite proficiently about the state of his nakedness. Good heavens! It's not like he was five years old!

"Oh Joshua, really!" Sister Julia couldn't help but tease him a little. "We've been tending to your personal needs for over a week now. Besides, Marilyn has been in need of some experience in tending to a male patient and you were very helpful."

Hannibal blushed and clutched the blanket more tightly around himself. He sent a suspicious look over to the young novice and she smiled sweetly back at him.

"How old are you?" He asked her.

"I'm sixteen."

"Ohhh..." Heyes groaned and actually hid his head under the blanket and then added a very muffled; "Go away."

"Oh come on now Joshua." The Sister laughed, trying to pull the blanket from over his head. "We're just teasing you. Of course you can wear a pair of trunks if that would make you more comfortable."

"Really?"

"Yes! Of course! Dr. Gibson..."

But David, who had been eavesdropping with a subtle smile on his face at Hannibal's obvious theatrics, had already gone to the linen closet and found what was necessary.

"Here you go Sister." He said as he handed them over. "Let me know when he's ready and I'll give you a hand."

The Sister smiled and rolled her eyes at the silly bashfulness of a grown man. She tapped on the blanket in the general location of the patient's head.

"Here you are Joshua."

The blanket came down just far enough for brown eyes to get a view of what was being offered.

"Oh." He said, and then a hand snaked out and snatched the trunks and then the whole body disappeared under cover again. "Thank you." Came the muffled acknowledgement.

There was a fair amount of movement under the blanket as Heyes manoeuvred his feet into the leggings and then pulled the trunks up around his waist. This was not an easy task for the injured man, since despite the regular morphine doses, he was still in a great deal of pain from his wounds and the movement required to accomplish this simple necessity almost made him wonder if his dignity was worth the effort. But again, he was determined or perhaps to be more accurate; stubborn, and got the job done. Then he came up for air.

"Feeling better now?"

"Yes Sister. Thank you."

"Alright, Doctor. We're ready."

David came over just as the two ladies were helping Heyes to sit up and bring his legs down over the side of the bed.

"Okay, Han. Do you think you can stand today?"

"I'll give it a try." Heyes offered. "Where's the Kid?"

"He's asleep."

"Oh." Heyes was suddenly sceptical. "Can we do this?"

"I'm sure, between the four of us, we'll manage." David assure him. "Just take hold of my arm to pull yourself up and Sister Julia is right there on your other side to support you if you need it. Alright?"

"Yeah."

Heyes took hold of David's arm as instructed and then slid himself forward until his feet touched the floor. He wasn't feeling too secure so he looked up at Sister Julia and she needed no other prompting to take hold of his elbow to give him some added assurance. He smiled a little nervously and then slowly pulled himself to his feet.

They were still a little tender from the blistering and then he smiled to himself as he recalled one of Kid's sardonic comments relating to blisters._ 'I'd say tender_ _but you'd feel called upon to say somethin' clever and I'd havta kill ya'!'_ Heyes chuckled and all of his assistants sent him enquiring glances.

He shook his head. "Just remembering something the Kid said I don't know how many years ago."

"Oh." David nodded. "Okay, can you take a step?"

Heyes tentatively stepped forward, testing the weight and his balance and just how much it was going to hurt and he was surprised that it really wasn't too bad. Though he had no intentions of letting go of David's arm. He took another step, and another until they ended up beside the tub. There was already water in it, but now Marilyn came over and poured in a bucket of hot water from the stove and then waited to see if more would be needed.

Heyes stood still, staring at the tub and not feeling too confident about being able to step over the rim. Marilyn was getting good at reading the unspoken concerns and quickly came around to help Heyes lift up the one knee and then bring his foot over the edge and step into the water. He sucked his teeth upon first contact.

"Is it too hot?" Marilyn asked, suddenly concerned.

"No. It stings."

"That's the salt." David reminded him. "It'll sting for a bit, on your back too but then it will feel better. So just grin and bear it for a moment."

They got him totally standing inside the tub and then David moved around behind him, with him and the Sister still holding his arms.

"Okay Han, just sit down." David instructed. "You're not going to slip and we won't let you fall so just slowly—sit down."

Heyes hesitated, understandably nervous but then he remembered David's proficiency in assisting him in the past and decided to give himself over to trust. He bent his knees and slowly allowed himself to sink down into the water. David and the Sister held onto him and supported him all the way down so it ended up being a surprisingly easy transition.

Still, he tensed and sucked wind again as the salt water invaded the wounds on his back and he closed his eyes against the pain.

"Just try and relax Hannibal." David advised him. "I know it stings right now, but it'll get better in a moment."

It seemed like an awfully long moment to Heyes, but eventually the stinging did ease off and Heyes slid down until his back was fully submerged and then settled into the back of the tub. He closed his eyes with relief this time and then gave a huge sigh of contentment. This was actually feeling pretty good.

The two ladies, feeling confident that everything was under control went back to the small stove to heat up more water and David swung the chair around so that he could sit and keep his friend company.

He sat quietly for a while, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. He watched his patient, waiting for him to respond to the subtle pressure caused simply by another person's presence.

Finally Heyes opened one eye and squinted at the medical man. David smiled.

"What's on your mind David?"

"Just wondering when you're going to be ready to talk."

Heyes opened both his eyes and gave a frustrated sigh.

"Who says I want to talk?" He asked.

"No one. In fact I don't think you do want to—but I think you should."

"Okay David." Heyes placated the man. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Kenny tells me that the new prison doctor should be arriving tomorrow." David informed the inmate in a less than subtle effort to get the conversation going.

"Oh yeah." Was the non-committal response.

"I expect I'll stay on here a few more days just to make sure that he isn't completely wet behind the ears and then Jed and I will probably head for home."

"Oh yeah."

"You're doing well Hannibal." David pointed out. "Your fever is long gone and your lungs are clear. Sister Julia and Marilyn will continue to care for your injuries. Plus the new doctor will be here, and Officer Reece. So, I have no concerns about your physical well-being. It's the other things that I'm not so sure about."

Heyes' jaw twitched "What other things?" He asked.

Never being one to beat around the bush, David came right out with it. "I've been worried about you. Even before this last incident your letters were full of darkness and depression. I know what a good con man you are Hannibal; you can take on any persona you wish. You can hide your true feelings and fool everyone, even Jed. Especially if he wants to be fooled. But in the long run you won't be helping yourself at all. If you're feeling depressed you need to talk about it, alright?"

Heyes' expression went blank and he stared off into nothing.

"I'm fine David." He insisted. "Why do you keep thinking that I'm bottling things up?"

David looked down at his hands and gave a sigh and then he looked back up at the man who was refusing to look at him.

"I know you were close to Dr. Morin." David began quietly. "And yet you've said nothing about what happened."

Heyes shifted uncomfortably, causing the water to ripple a little bit. This had started out to be such a soothing bath.

"What's there to say?" Heyes finally responded, still refusing to look David in the eye. "What happened, happened. Carson will get his one of these days."

David frowned, confused. "Carson?" He asked. "It was my understanding that Boeman was the perpetrator."

"Oh." Heyes looked back at David then. "Oh yeah. Sorry. I meant Boeman."

The two men locked gazes for a moment. David wasn't sure what was going on here, he just knew that something wasn't right.

"We've been worried about you Hannibal." David repeated. "Why can't you tell me what you're thinking about?"

Heyes allowed a flash of irritation to cross his face. Jed was right; David could be a real pest sometimes.

"I'm fine David." Heyes insisted. "Just ask Kenny, he knows that I've been doing better lately."

"Don't look for cover in that direction." David cautioned him. "Officer Reece is the one who insists that you're in trouble. Jed doesn't agree. He thinks that if you were 'having problems' then he would be the first one to see it."

"Well there ya' go!" Heyes shot back defensively and then saw the sceptical look that David sent him and he retreated a little bit and looked recalcitrant. "Well—what do you think?"

David sighed and thought about that for a moment. "I'm not sure." He admitted. "Which is why I was hoping that you would talk to me. One thing I do know for sure is that you are a master at disguising what you think and what you feel, even to the point of fooling your cousin, if that is what you decided you wanted to do. Especially since Jed doesn't what to see what Officer Reece sees."

"And what does 'Officer Reece' see?"

"Like I said; he thinks you're in trouble." David reiterated. "You've been through a lot these past five years Hannibal—far more than anyone should have to deal with. I'm just afraid that you've lost sight of the goal here, that you've decided to let go."

Heyes smiled and relaxed into the warm water. He settled into the back of the tub and closed his eyes, sighing with contentment.

"I've been doing a lot of soul-searching David." He admitted quietly. "Come to some decisions." His smiled broadened, he opened his sparkling eyes and grinned at his friend. "You and Jed don't need to worry about me anymore. Everything is going to be fine."

The next day when Kenny escorted Dr. Dale Miller over to the infirmary and introduced him to the group who had taken up residence there, David took one look and felt a dread settle over him. He was so young. Indeed, Dr. Miller had only just finished his training back east and wasn't at all sure about taking on the challenge of being a prison physician. But he convinced himself that the experience he would receive there would be invaluable and besides, it wasn't easy for a new doctor to build up a practice. So when the position was offered he decided to give it a try.

David shook his hand and tried to hide his concerns. Sister Julia did her best as well to cover her disappointment, but all she could see in front of her now was the added work load of having to train a new doctor. Jed felt instant relief that Heyes was on the mend and wasn't having to depend on this youngster to keep him alive. He also sent out a silent prayer that his partner would keep himself from getting hurt in the future, thereby avoiding having to return to the infirmary at all. Indeed, it seemed likely that if Heyes continued to be the doctor's assistant, then the inmate would probably be teaching the physician.

Dr. Miller himself could of course feel the slightly chilly reception and did his best to ignore it and try to put on an air of experience and self-confidence that he didn't really feel. It would only be fair to mention at this point that Dr. Miller was indeed very competent and although the first year in residence would prove to be quite the learning curve, he would rise to the challenge and eventually settle in as an honoured and respected medical man. At the moment however, he was the new kid on the block and everyone was viewing him with a sceptical eye.

Once introductions were completed David decided that there was no time like the present to introduce the new doctor to his one and only patient. Heyes had been laying on his stomach with a pillow supporting his chest and arms while he was reading some 'Get Well' letters from the orphans when the newbie arrived. He had frowned in irritation as the verbal introductions had interrupted his focus, then shuffled the letters aside with a loud rustling and rolled onto his side to glare irritated daggers at the group over by the counter.

This was Dr. Miller's first impression of the outlaw Hannibal Heyes and he was instantly intimidated. Of course, just like many young men of his generation, Dale Miller had grown up hearing all about the exploits of Heyes and Curry, even from back east. Or perhaps, especially from back east since many easterners have a fascination with anything to do with the 'wild west'. Stories of the numerous outlaw bands running roughshod over the law in the frontier states tended to get blown out of proportion. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, and The Devil's Hole Gang were hardly an exception to that rule.

"Dr. Miller, this is your patient, Hannibal Heyes." David introduced them. "Hannibal, be nice."

Heyes rolled his eyes and then glanced over at Kenny who was also giving him the eye to behave himself. Heyes sighed in resignation, then flashing his dimples turned on his indelible charm.

"Dr. Miller." Heyes greeted him. "Welcome to Hell."

Jed snorted. Dr. Miller stared wide-eyed and opened mouthed for an instant and realized that he better say something.

"Oh, yes." He mumbled. "It's nice to be..." And then the sentence trailed off as he realized that it was a totally inappropriate response. He smiled self-consciously. "Ahh, yes."

"You better be nice to him Han." David suggested. "I'm not going to be around much longer and you don't want to go biting the hand that's treating you."

"Hmm." Was Heyes' only comment and then he shifted onto his stomach again and went back to his letters.

Two days later Kid pulled up a chair and sat down beside Heyes who was laying on his side on the bed and snoozing. He opened his eyes though as the Kid sat down facing him and the two friends smiled at each other.

"How you feelin' Heyes?"

"Good."

"Didn't wake ya' up did I?"

"No." Heyes sort of shook his head. "Just dozing."

Jed nodded. "Listen, ah—I gotta get going."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes mumbled. "That's alright. You and David have been here quite a while. I'm okay now."

"Ya' sure Heyes?" Kid questioned him. "Cause Kenny thinks..."

"Aww, don't go listening to Kenny. I think he's just worked here too long. Starting to see ghosts in the cell blocks!"

Jed grinned. "Yeah. Just jumpin' at shadows. You're alright then?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He smiled and took on a conspiratorial countenance. "We'll talk more about it the next time you come." Then he glanced over at the doctors and the Sisters. "When we have a bit more privacy. I've been thinking about things, but I really need to talk to you about it before I do anything." Then a hand came out and patted the Kid on the knee. "We'll talk next time you come."

Kid creased his brow, not quite sure what to make of this; Heyes was acting a little strange.

"Yeah, okay." Kid answered, though a little hesitant. "Ahh, Lom's wedding is in a couple of weeks. I thought I would attend that and then stop by here on the way home. That way we can tell ya' all about it."

"Hmm." Heyes frowned. "Will Beth be with you?"

"Well, yeah." Jed admitted. "She and Clem are coming to the wedding. Why? Don't you want to see them?"

"No." Heyes stated point blank. "I don't want them here. You come alone, alright?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed agreed, though he was a little confused. "I mean, Clem and Beth can carry on home together and I can come in on my own. I just thought you would like to see them."

"Not this trip, Kid." Heyes reiterated. "You come alone."

"Alright." Jed agreed as he stood up. "I'll see ya' in a couple of weeks."

Then David came over and replaced the Kid on the chair. Heyes acknowledged him with a smile and a nod.

"Okay Hannibal, we're heading for home." David announced the obvious. "You and Dr. Miller seem to be getting along alright."

"Yeah, he's okay for a newbie."

"You should be up and around here within the week." David predicted. "Maybe you can carry on as his assistant. You already know your way around—you'd probably be very helpful to him."

"Nah." Heyes declined. "It's just not the same without old Doc Morin."

David nodded. "I know. Maybe in time..."

Heyes reached out and took hold of David's right hand in his, effectively cutting the doctor off in mid sentence.

"You take care of yourself David." Heyes said. "And look after my partner, will ya'?"

David mimicked Jed at this point, by creasing his brow and thinking the same thing. He took Heyes' hand in both of his then and looked his friend in the eye.

"Are you sure you're alright Hannibal?" He asked. "Sure you don't want to talk?"

"Aww, David! Stop being a mother hen!" Heyes reprimanded him. "I'm just sorry to be saying 'goodbye' to you. It was good to see ya' again."

"Okay Han." David smiled and stood up. "I'll keep an eye on Jed and you keep on writing to me, alright?"

"Yeah."

Sixteen days later to be precise, Jed made his way back to the prison for the promised visit with his cousin. He hadn't received any emergency telegrams from Kenny so he assumed that everything was going alright and that Heyes was back on his feet and returning to his normal routine Jed had breathed a sigh of relief over the 'no news is good news' dictum and had become to feel comfortable with his own opinion that Heyes was fine and that Kenny had indeed been jumping at shadows.

The two ladies had been disappointed at Heyes' request that they not visit him this time around and Clementine had actually been somewhat incensed, but Jed had stood his ground and assured them that next time would be soon enough. Heyes probably just wasn't feeling quite up to snuff yet and needed a little bit more time before being able to handle a whole parcel of visitors. That being decided, Beth sent along her good wishes with assurances of a visit soon and she and Clem carried on into Colorado on their own.

Jed went through the usual routine of checking his gun in at the reception and then waited until he had the go-ahead to enter into the visiting room. Heyes was sitting at his usual spot with Murrey standing guard behind him. The inmate smiled as Jed came in and sat down and both men settled in for a visit.

"This all seems silly now." Jed commented.

"What?" Heyes asked.

"Having a guard here, and you having to wear those shackles and everything." Jed pointed out. "I mean, I just spent nearly two weeks with you in the infirmary, not to mention the visits at the orphanage. You weren't wearing shackles on those occasions, and nobody yelled at me if I touched ya'! Now here we are back to this nonsense again."

"Yeah." Heyes gave kind of a lopsided grin. "I does seem kinda silly doesn't it."

"Yeah." And Jed sent a rather resentful look back towards Murrey. Murrey just looked blandly back at him. "So." Jed decided to ignore the guard. "How ya' doin' Heyes? Ya' back to work again?"

"Yeah." Heyes answered. "I'm fine. Been doing a lot of thinking."

"Oh yeah." Jed's tone was a little defensive. Whenever Heyes starting thinking it usually meant trouble for somebody—and more often than not, it usually meant trouble for Jed. "What about?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah." Heyes gave a deep sigh and settled more into his chair. "This has gone on long enough Jed." The Kid felt a slight chill at the use of his given name. "You and Beth should get married, start your family. You need to get on with your life."

Now Kid got really defensive. "God dammit Heyes!" He snapped back at his cousin. "How many times do I havta tell ya'!? We're not getting married until we get you outa here!"

"Yeah, yeah I know." Heyes admitted. "And I know that you're just stubborn enough to stick to that too."

"Exactly! And you're not gonna talk me out of it!"

"Yeah, I know."

"Well then why even bring it up Heyes?" Kid felt exasperation. "We're not doing anything until you get outa here!"

"But that's just it Kid." Heyes told him and then smiled with genuine warmth and Kid felt another chill go through him. There as an odd look to Heyes' eyes—one that Jed had never seen before and it scared him. Heyes leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially; "I've found a way out."

"You-what?"

"I've found a way out."

"But...how?"

"It was one of the other inmates." Heyes explained quietly, his face alight with joy. "A young fella, way back when I was first incarcerated here. I don't even remember his name. But he showed me the way out."

"But..." Kid was really confused now. "What about you saying that you wouldn't escape even if it was offered to ya'? That it wouldn't be worth all the running and hiding for the rest of your life—our lives! I mean—you tell me to get married and then say you're gonna break out?" Jed lowered his voice even more and sent a cautionary glance over to Murrey. That guard wasn't too concerned. "What am I supposed to be doing in all this—and how am I supposed to get married if we're running for the border!?"

"No, no Kid." Heyes assured him, still smiling quietly. "You get married. I won't be running anywhere."

"Well, but...then...?"

"With the way out that he showed me, there's no need to run anymore—no need to hide." Heyes' grin broadened. "There's no more pain, no more fear. Everything will be fine."

"Yea mean, this fella...this other inmate. He got out?" Jed was sceptical.

Heyes nodded. "Yeah."

"And he's living now—somewhere, happy and carefree?" Kid needed confirmation on this.

"Well, no." Heyes had to admit. "He's not actually living. The guards shot him dead before he even got half way up the wall."

"Well, then...what...?"

"He showed me the way out Kid." Heyes explained. "The only way out that he could find."

"Heyes, what the hell are you talking about!?"

But realization was beginning to dawn, and Jed felt a freezing chill go through him and take hold of his heart. He couldn't be hearing this right—he just couldn't be.

"Heyes..." It was barely more than a whisper.

"I didn't want to come back Kid." Heyes continued to explain. "I wasn't going to, but you just wouldn't let me go. You and David and Sister Julia. And Kenny. You just wouldn't let me go."

He stopped and became reflective then, pursing his lips as he considered his situation.

"But maybe it was for the best that I came back." He continued philosophically. "Cause I wanted to talk to you first anyways, and Doc Morin said that I wouldn't be able to get a message to ya' once I was totally there—not easily anyways. And I wanted to tell ya' Kid that you shouldn't feel bad. This isn't your fault. I know you've done everything you could have done, more than I ever would have expected. I just had to let you know Kid, that this is what I want so don't spend the rest of your life feeling guilty, okay? You and Beth need to get married, get on with your lives—be happy, okay?"

"What!? No...!" Jed's throat was tied in a knot, even he could hear his voice shaking. "What do ya' mean; get on with my life?! How the hell am I suppose to do that knowing that you...that you...NO! How can you expect me to do that? How am I suppose to be a good husband and a good father, how am I suppose to go on with my life and be happy, knowing that the only reason I have that life is because you did this!?"

"But this is what I want, Kid. Can't ya' see?" Heyes tried to be reasonable. "I just feel like I'm getting in your way, that I'm holding you back. I'm doing this for you."

"NO!" The palm of Kid's hand slapped hard onto the table and then an accusing finger was pointed in Heyes' face. "DON'T YOU DARE LAY THIS ON ME! You're not doing this for me Heyes! You'd be killing me! Can't you see that!? You do this and you'd be KILLING ME TOO!"

"No, no." Heyes responded calmly. "I've been watching you Kid, you'll be fine. You've grown so much without me dragging you down. You're your own man now, you don't need me anymore. You'll see—you'll be fine."

Kid took himself in hand and tried to calm down. He wasn't going to get anywhere with Heyes by yelling at him. Some instinct was telling him that he had to be rational here that he had to try and use common sense to get his partner to see reason. But he was so scared! This was a totally new situation for him and he had no idea how to deal with it.

Vaguely Kid was aware of Murrey quietly making his way to the door and knocking on it. He didn't like the way this visit was going and wanted to be sure he had back up in case things really got out of hand. Then Kid dismissed him as he desperately tried to come up with another line of logic.

"What about...what about our friends, Heyes? What about everyone who has been working so hard to get you out of here?" Kid was grasping at straws. "Lom and David and..and what about the Jordan's? C'mon Heyes! How do ya' think they would feel if you just...I mean, Beth and Bridget—they love you Heyes! Think about what you would be doing to them!"

Heyes shrugged inconsequentially. "Bridget has Steven. Beth has you. They'll be fine."

"Well, what about those orphans Heyes!?" Jed was amazing even himself with all these straws he was pulling out of the hat, but it would be all for not if none of them turned his cousin's thinking around. "Who have they got? They look up to you. You know what it was like being orphaned like that, and you have nobody you can turn to, nobody to use as a role model! That's not right Heyes, that you take that away from them!"

Heyes had the decency to look a little contrite at that, but then he shook his head and countered Jed's move.

"They don't even know me." He reasoned. "They just have this idea of who I am from the stories they've read—that's not me. They're just admiring a product of their own imaginations."

"SO WHAT!?" Kid yelled back at him. "What difference does that make?! So what if the person they think you are isn't the 'real' you!? They still look up to you! You'd still be breaking their hearts if you did this! They'd carry the hurt of it with them for the rest of their lives! How can you DO THAT!? How can you even think about DOING THAT!? Haven't they lost enough in their lives and now you're gonna take this away from them too!?"

Heyes quietly shook his head again.

"No Kid." He responded. "You're reading more into it than is actually there. I'm just a diversion, that's all. They'll get over it, grow up and move on. Children are resilient, you'll see. And they have the Sisters there to help them on their way. We never had that Kid. They'll be fine."

Jed sat quietly for a moment, His blood pounding in his ears, his mind spinning in an attempt to come up with something—anything that would sway his cousin's decision. Then, out of the blue it came to him, a last-ditch effort. It was hard and it was cruel and it was hitting below the belt, but Kid was desperately fighting for his partner's life in a way that he never would have thought possible. It was time for the 'kid' gloves to come off.

"What about your daughter, Heyes?" He asked quietly. "What about Anya?"

Heyes blinked as the gentle query passed through his defences and surrounded his heart. That quiet, infuriating smile left his face, and his jaw turned hard. Jed felt a thrill of hope that maybe, just maybe he'd hit on the right incentive.

"How old would she be now?" Kid asked quietly, not wanting to lose the edge. "Nine, ten?"

"Nine." Heyes answered without hesitation.

"Nine." Jed repeated. "Right around the same age when we lost our folks."

Heyes pursed his lips, feeling irritation take over. Why did Kid have to bring her up?

"It's not the same thing." Heyes insisted. "She doesn't even know who I am."

"Course she does, Heyes." Kid said. "Every child who can read a book knows who you are."

Heyes sat back, more than irritated now. He was getting angry. His well laid plan was being threatened. He'd had this all worked out! Why couldn't Kid just accept it and move on!?

"Fine!" He acquiescent with a snap. "She doesn't know that I'm her father."

"Not yet." Kid agreed. "But Abi's going to tell her, as soon as she's old enough to understand what a secret is. Abi's not going to keep that secret from her; she knows Anya has the right to know who her father is—she's going to tell her."

Heyes sat quietly for a moment, sullen, sulky.

"Abi doesn't want me to be a part of Anya's life, she made that perfectly clear." Heyes mumbled, feeling sorry for himself. "And I suppose she was right—after what happened..." Heyes stopped in mid-sentence, his jaw tightening even more. Jed instantly felt sympathy for his partner, but hope too—hope that he was winning this battle. "Anya's never going to know who I am, so what I do isn't going to make any difference."

"You don't know that Heyes." Kid insisted, trying desperately to keep his partner off-balance, to get him to see reason. "And you doing this...you'd be stealing away from her any possibility at all of her having a chance to know you! Jeez Heyes! We both know what that's like; to grow up without that connection! And here you are all ready to snatch that away from her! That's not right!"

"It's not the same." Heyes threw back. "She has Abi. Abi's been a good mother to her, Anya doesn't need any more than that. She doesn't know any more than that."

"Yeah!?" Kid was getting mad again. "And what about when Anya does find out that her father was Hannibal Heyes!? What then, huh!? What do ya' think that will do to her, huh!? Her father; the great Hannibal Heyes who ended up being such a coward that he killed himself in prison!"

Kid had hoped to get a rise out of Heyes with that insult, but the exact opposite happened. Heyes' mood instantly deflated along with Jed's hopes of pulling his partner out of this decree. Then Heyes' mood changed again and he relaxed and smiled back at the Kid.

"No." He said, softly shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. You just don't understand. It doesn't matter. Anya will be fine—she has Abi. She's never needed me."

Heyes sat back then and his eyes glazed over just a little as he looked off into the middle distance, seeing things that weren't there.

"It's cold." He whispered. "The season's are changing—there's frost on the ground."

Jed hesitated, fighting the fear that was threatening to overwhelm him and to choke away all logical thought.

"It's not cold Heyes." He pointed out quietly. "It's still summer. It's hot out today."

Heyes smiled sweetly, almost looking like a little boy. His eyes were calm again, calm and distant.

"It's cold." He repeated. "The leaves are crunchy underfoot and they're lined with sparkling white. The sun is shinning, but it's not warm out is it Kid? It's cold. And such a brilliant blue sky. We could play in the leaves, like we used to—remember?"

Jed nodded, but he couldn't find his voice. He didn't know what to do with this, this was something new, so out of the realm of his experience that his mind felt like it was skipping, trying to process this information, but not wanting to accept it at the same time. It was as though this person sitting in front of him wasn't his cousin anymore; that Hannibal Heyes was no longer there, that he'd been replaced by the ghost of a child, his reasoning mind replaced by innocence.

"But there's blood all over them." Heyes continued, his gentle expression changing to one of mild concern. "So much blood. The matron says we can't play in them anymore." Then Heyes was back to smiling and looking relaxed. "The grass is nice though, it smells so fragrant. There's nothing like summertime, eh Kid? So soft and warm. They're all here you know. Doc says that I can see my folks again; wouldn't that be nice?"

"Doc?" Kid whispered, his heart in his throat. This was the second time Heyes had referred to his friend, the doctor. What the hell was going on? "Doc Morin, ya' mean?"

"Yeah." Heyes nodded as though that should have been obvious. "I've been talking to Doc. He says that I can see anyone I like." Then the soft smile turned into a dimpled grin and he looked directly at Kid, his brown eyes sparkling. "Even Jenny and little Rebecca—they're here, waiting for me. I want so much to be able to see them again."

Jed was lost. Fear had his heart like a vice and he sent an imploring look back to the guard, hoping that Murrey might have some clue. Unfortunately that guard was just as much at a loss as Jed was, and even had a slight smirk on his face as though to say that Heyes must just be pulling his leg. This was just one of Heyes' cons. No help there. Jed looked back to his cousin again, trying to bring reason back into those dark eyes.

"Heyes, those people are all dead...you can't..."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes agreed. "They're waiting for me. Ohh, it was so nice there Jed. Really. If you could have seen it, you would understand why I didn't want to come back. I know you meant well, but I really wish you hadn't pulled me back. Still, it did give me the chance to talk to you; to let you know; Don't feel bad for me—it's what I want. Don't ya' see? We don't need to be afraid of death, it's not a bad thing. I don't know why we fought against it so hard and for so long. It's not a bad thing at all."

"Heyes, don't do this." Kid was begging him, his voice a breathless whisper. "Come back to me, please."

Heyes just smiled and shook his head.

"No. I havta go." He insisted. "But don't worry, I'll see ya' again. I'll wait for you and then you'll see what a wonderful place it is."

"Heyes! No!" Jed was getting frustrated and angry and even more scared; he was losing the battle and he knew it. "You can't do this!"

Heyes stood up then and Murrey was quick to take hold of an arm. Things had calmed down a little bit, but now Mr. Curry seemed to be getting agitated again and maybe it was time to call this visit to an end. Jed stood up as well, but it was an aggressive move, his face angry, his hands leaning on the table.

"Heyes! Promise me!" He was yelling now. "Promise me you won't do anything! PROMISE ME!"

Murrey quickly pulled Heyes back from the table and then knocked on the door to get it opened from the inside of the prison proper. The guard brought his rifle up and got between the inmate and the visitor, not quite sure what was going to happen here.

"MR. CURRY! BACK OFF!"

"NO!" Kid yelled back at him and then slammed his palm down on the table with a loud SMACK! "HEYES! PROMISE ME YOU WON'T DO ANYTHING! PROMISE ME!"

The door leading back into the prison ward had opened by that time and Davis, quickly assessing the situation, took Heyes by the arm and was pulling him back across the threshold. Heyes was totally unresisting, but continued to smile at his cousin as he was being pulled away.

"It'll be alright Kid, you'll see." He repeated. "But don't come back here alright? Go get married, go have a life, but I don't want you coming back here again."

"NO! HEYES! PROMISE ME!"

But Heyes was gone and the door closed between them. Curry found himself fighting against the guard, trying desperately to get to his partner, but Murrey wasn't letting him, indeed he was pushing the Kid back towards the exit.

"NO!" Kid was still yelling. "You gotta stop him!"

"Mr. Curry, calm down!" Murrey was getting mad himself. "We'll watch him."

"NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Kid was desperate, his anger taking hold. "If Heyes says he's gonna do something—he'll do it! Ya' gotta stop him!"

"Don't worry about it..."

Kid exploded! He'd had it with this idiot! Grabbing Murrey by the collar, he pushed the man off him and had him up against the wall in an instant. Murrey reacted on trained instinct and Kid felt the business end of the rifle butt in his gut, pushing him back and knocking the wind out of him. Then the guard was on him and had him out the door and into the foyer before Jed had a chance to regain his balance, or his breath.

"BACK OFF AND CALM DOWN!" Was the heated advise thrown at him. "I told ya'! We'll watch him!"

Kid stood against the counter, bent over and clutching his gut.

"No!" He gasped out. "No. Get Kenny! Now! I need to talk to Kenny!"

"Just back off a minute!" Murrey ordered him and then looked around at the guard behind the reception counter. "You watch him, alright."

"You bet." That guard agreed while giving the Kid an intimidating glare. "I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere."

"Good!" Murrey stated. "And whatever you do, don't give him back his gun!"

"Don't worry about that."

Then Murrey turned back to the Kid.

"Alright, Mr. Curry." He agreed. "I know that you and Officer Reece seem to have some kind of an understanding between you, so I'll go get him. But you behave yourself or you'll be getting an armed escort off the prison property, do you understand?"

"Yeah! Fine! Just go get him!"

Murrey disappeared back into the prison proper and Jed started to pace, totally ignoring the glare that he was receiving from the receptionist.

It seemed an eternity before the door opened again and Kenny stepped into the foyer. Without skipping a beat Jed came at him and had him by the collar in his desperation to get something happening. The receptionist was instantly on the move, coming to assist his boss and protect him from what he perceived as a physical attack.

"No, Mr. Grant!" Kenny assured him quickly. "It's alright—don't worry about it."

Grant stopped in his tracks, his rifle ready and his expression doubtful.

"You sure? He's looking kinda wild to me."

"No, it's alright." Kenny reiterated. "Stand down."

Jed still had hold of Kenny's lapels, desperation pouring from every aspect of his countenance.

"Kenny! I'm sorry! You were right—Jesus—you were so right!" Jed was in his face, pleading for help even before the words could find their way out. "How the hell could you see it and I couldn't!"

Kenny had his hands on Jed's shoulders, trying to calm him down.

"See what Jed?" He asked him quietly. "What are you talking about?"

"Dammit Kenny! He said it!" Kid explained. "He told me he was going to do it! HOW COULD HE SAY THAT TO ME! Dammit! You gotta stop him Kenny! You gotta stop him!"

"Jed, calm down! Who said what?" Kenny already suspected what Jed was talking about, but he needed to get the man to calm down and articulate, get him talking in a straight line.

"HEYES!" Jed explained as though Kenny should already know this. "Heyes told me—just now! He told me he was gonna do it—he was gonna..." But Jed choked on the words and he couldn't get it out.

"Alright, alright. Calm down." Kenny assured him, having garnered enough from Jed's panicked outburst to now know for sure. "I already suspected this, you know that. I have been watching him but he hasn't done anything to warrant any further action. What triggered him?"

Jed was trying to calm down, but his heart was still pounding in his throat and he was having a hard time getting the words out.

"He said...he was waiting...to talk to me...first." He explained between trying to breathe. "That he...didn't want me to feel...guilty. Jeez Kenny, he said he's been talking to dead people! That... everything was gonna be fine and not to worry about him! You were right—he didn't want to come back; he didn't want us to save him! And all he wants now is to return to where he was—that it was so nice there that he hadn't wanted to leave it!"

"Alright." Kenny patted the Kid's shoulder, trying to reassure him. "Did he say when he was going to try this—or how?"

"No." Kid shook his head, taking one more deep cleansing breath as he started to relax. "No. He just started talking about some other inmate who showed him the way out. It would have been about four years ago I guess, and this fella made a run at the perimeter wall or something, and the guards shot him. That's all Heyes said about it."

Kenny sighed and nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll check the records, there'll be a report about it. I do recall something like that happening." Then he smiled at Kid. "I'll keep an eye on him Jed. And I'll make sure the night guards know that he's at risk."

"Keep an eye on him?" Jed repeated incredulously. "Is that all!? Can't you lock him in his cell!? Tie him up—or something! Anything!?"

"For how long?" Kenny asked reasonably. "We can't keep him tied up in his cell for the next seven years. If he's determined to do it then sooner or later he'll find a way. We just have to wait, and watch him and hopefully stop him if he does attempt anything, then maybe we can..."

But whatever Kenny was going to say was cut short by the muffled report of three rifle shots reaching their ears from the vicinity of the inner courtyard. Both men froze, blue eyes locking onto grey! Then, as though a starter's pistol had gone off, they both made a dash towards the access door to the prison proper.

Grant was also instantly on the move, getting in between the two men and effectively blocking the Kid from following the senior guard into the secured area. Kid fought against him, determined to go to his cousin's rescue.

"NO JED! WAIT HERE!" Kenny ordered him as he opened the door.

"WHAT DO YA' MEAN—WAIT HERE?" Jed was adamant. He had to get in there.

"You can't come in here Jed!" Kenny informed him. "Wait here! I'll be back!"

And with that Kenny was gone, the door closing and locking behind him. Jed seethed and glared at Grant, but saw no sympathy there. Grant pushed him back and let him know in no uncertain body language that he was to stay put and stay civil.

Kid had no choice but to comply, but he was in a state and began to pace around the alcove like a wild stallion in a paddock. What was going on? Had Heyes actually done it? Had he gone directly outside and made a run for it? Dammit! What was going on!?

Kid paced and waited. Waited and paced, and time stood still while the world held its breath.

TO BE CONTINUED


	32. Chapter 32

The Mouse

Jed was nearly frantic in his despair and anxiety. It seemed to him that Kenny was gone for an eternity and the solid Mr. Grant didn't seem to be too concerned about anything too much. He eyed the Kid suspiciously and was following every move he made just to be sure that there was not going to be a sudden sneak attack upon his domain in an effort to retrieve his hardware.

As for himself, his hardware was the last thing on Kid's mind. His heart was pounding against his breast so hard he was certain his whole chest was going to explode, and if not that, well it was certainly doing a good job of rising up into his throat and choking him. Where the hell was Kenny!? This was just crazy! Why was it taking so long!? Oh God! HEYES! What are you thinking? NO! NO! NO! This can't be happening! This is crazy! Where the hell is Kenny!?

Finally! Finally, finally the interior door opened and Officer Reece stepped though. He caught Jed's eye and giving a light shake of his head, he smiled to put his friend at ease.

"No, it's alright Jed, it wasn't him."

Jed's knees went weak with relief and with a huge sigh he headed over to the alcove in order to sit down. Kenny gave a quick nod to Officer Grant and then followed Jed over to the chairs. Jed had sat down with a heavy sigh and rubbed his face with his hands. He felt like he was going to throw up or feint or something.

Kenny sat down opposite him.

"Apparently one of the new hires thought it would be a good idea to take some pot shots at the antelope." He explained. "He didn't realize that we kind of consider them pets around here." Then he smiled with just a touch of malicious humour. "He realizes it now though."

Kid groaned with relief.

"So he hasn't tried anything?"

"No." Kenny confirmed. "He's not even outside. Davis said he simply went back to his cell. I did a quick walk by and sure enough he and Mr. Murtry are in his cell playing cards."

"Oh that bastard!" Kid cursed his friend. "What the hell is he playing at, putting me through all that for nothing!?"

Kenny shook his head. "He's not playing at anything, Jed." The guard cautioned him. "I believe he meant every word he said; he's just waiting for the right time. I have a feeling he's going to be having a hard time shaking Mr. Murtry though, that particular gentleman has been sticking close ever since Heyes was released from the infirmary. Mr. Murtry is not quite as obtuse as people seem to think; he knows something is up with Heyes and he isn't about to let that man out of his sight."

Jed nodded. "Good! I never thought I would be relieved to have a friend in this place, but thank goodness Kyle is. He will stick close. And it won't matter how abusive Heyes gets towards him, he'll just keep on smiling and doing what he needs to do."

"Yup." Kenny agreed. "And the guards have been alerted now too, so we'll all be watching him. The best thing you can do right now is just go home. I'll let you know if anything happens."

"Go home." Jed repeated with a touch of disdain. "How am I supposed to just go home? This is crazy!"

"I know." Kenny sympathized. "But there's no telling if or when anything is going to happen. He might try tomorrow, or next week, or never. Maybe we'll be able to prevent him from doing anything until the urge passes. I hope so. But in the meantime, you being here isn't going to do him or you any good. Go home Jed. I'll keep in touch and let you know what's happening."

Jed sat back with a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his curls.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He reluctantly admitted. "But I think it's time I went and had a word with the warden."

"Ahh—I don't think that's a good idea." Kenny countered. "Why don't you just leave well enough..."

"No!" Jed was adamant. "I'm going to have a little talk with the warden. You can either escort me there or I'll find my own way. Goodness knows, I've been there often enough; I'm quite certain I can find it on my own!"

"You'll be stopped, Jed; you know that."

"Then I'll cause one hell of a raucous getting there!" Jed threw back at him, his temper starting to show itself again. "But one way or anther he's gonna see me!"

And with that Jed stood up and walked away in the general direction of the official business section of the prison. Kenny groaned out loud, and then having to admit defeat he stood up and followed after him.

It didn't take Kenny long to catch up with Jed and putting a hand on his arm, tried to stop the headlong rush into an altercation. Jed shrugged him off and kept on going—he was in no mood to be reasoned with.

"Jed c'mon!" The guard tried to stop him. "This won't help, can't you..."

But then Jed turned on him, anger flashing out and an arm pushing Kenny away.

"The only reason Heyes is in here is because of me!" Jed raged. "And ever since he stepped through those gates he's been attacked! Mitchell has been grinding him and grinding him into the ground and I don't understand why! Well I'm going to find out why Kenny! And you can either come with me, or get outa my way! One or the other!"

"You watch yourself with him!" Kenny warned. "You don't want to push him right now, he is already on edge."

Jed turned then and stared Kenny straight in the face. "You don't need to worry about me." He said with a tight jaw. "I will be just as meek as a mouse!"

And with that Jed turned on his heel and continued on towards the offices. Kenny hesitated a moment, feeling very sceptical of that last remark. He had to admit though that part of him agreed with Jed, but another part of him was concerned about the outcome. Still, he finally reasoned, better to go along and try to put out fires than set back and watch the whole situation explode, so he followed along and catching up with Jed, gave him access to the offices.

As the two men strode down the hallway towards the main reception area they both noticed that Warden Mitchell was out of his office and speaking to his secretary about nothing in particular. His back was to the two men approaching him and it wasn't until Jed was almost upon him that he heard the approach and turned to face him.

"Mr. Curry." Mitchell acknowledged him, forcing a slight smile. "What can I do for you?"

"YOU CAN BLOODY WELL TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!"

"Indeed? Well." Mitchell tried to stall for time, but then decided to play the game. "Fine, Mr. Curry. Please—come into my office and we can discuss this."

Mitchell smiled snakily and with a friendly gesture encouraged the Kid to step inside his office. Jed, his jaw set and his mood dangerous, moved towards the open door. Kenny began to follow him but Mitchell stopped him with a look.

"You may return to your duties Officer Reece." Mitchell ordered him. "I don't believe we need to take up any more of your time as I'm sure Mr. Curry can find his way out without your guidance."

Then Mitchell turned and followed Jed Curry into his office, closing the door behind him. Kenny stood still for a moment, feeling irritated that he had been dismissed in such a flippant manner and knowing that he had simply been gotten rid off. He stood for a moment and fumed and then locking gazes with the rather impotent secretary, he turned and headed back down to the prison proper. Whatever trouble Jed got himself into, well he was just going to have to get himself out on his own.

Inside the office, the Warden stepped around his visitor and sat down at his desk. He smiled up at Jed and silently invited him to have a seat. Jed declined. He stood in front of the desk trying to bring his anger down to a level where he would actually be able to speak reasonably and not simply choke the life out of this human serpent.

"Well, Mr. Curry. What can I do for you today?"

"What can you do for me!?" Jed was almost incredulous. "What the hell are you doing!?"

Mitchell sighed with the indignity of being questioned so, but decided to placate his visitor.

"I assume you are referring to Mr. Heyes' punishment." He commented.

"Damn right I'm referring to Mr. Heyes' 'punishment'!" Curry practically spit at him. "You whipped him to within an inch of his life and then threw him into that damn cell in order to finish the job—and for what!?"

Mitchell leaned back with a long suffering sigh and crossed his arms. "Mr. Heyes was involved in a prison break which is rightfully punished by flogging." The Warden explained and then his expression hardened. "He also murdered our prison physician—a man who had shown nothing but trust and friendship towards him. It was a most despicable act that was well warranting of capital punishment."

"That's f***ing bull**** and you know it!" Kid was yelling at him in his frustration. "Mr. Reece himself told you that Heyes was not involved in that escape—that he was forced to go along! And you know damn well that Heyes would never have killed the doctor! You know damn well that he wouldn't have done it! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT!?"

Mitchell's expression hardened even more and he leaned forward, his hands laying flat upon his desk and resentment burning in his eyes.

"I offered Mr. Heyes a very prestigious position at this prison." Mitchell explained, his own anger starting to come through. "I gave him the honour of being a trustee long before he had put in the appropriate time to prove his worthiness of such a position. He was given access to the infirmary, to all the books he wanted to read and trips away from the prison to pass on his indelible wisdom to the sweet, impressionable orphans.

"All I asked for in return was information. I informed him quite plainly what would happen if he refused—it was a fair exchange. Help me out with attaining information and he could keep his precious privileges, deny me and he would go back to being a simple, common inmate with all the rest of the ignorant curs on the work floor.

"I told him what would happen if he tired to play me for a fool. I told you what would happen! I thought we had an understanding. Apparently not. Now I can't say for sure that Mr. Heyes had no part in the prison break, indeed you are correct in that Mr. Reece insists that he did not. I also highly doubt that he murdered our doctor but as far as the official report states, he is guilty of both those accusations and I intend to keep it that way!

"I will not tolerate insolence, Mr. Curry—nor will I be played for a fool. Mr. Heyes made his choices and he will pay the price for them!"

Throughout this whole narrative Jed's countenance was becoming more and more aggressive and indignant in its stance. He could hardly believe what he was hearing; Mitchell was openly admitting to punishing Heyes unjustly, but at the same time had made sure that no one else was around to witness the admittance.

Jed was furious. He leaned forward with his hands on the desk and his eyes sending ice daggers into the warden's skull. Kenny had been quite right not to give Jed back his gun.

"You mean to tell me that you knew all along that Heyes wasn't guilty and you punished him anyways!?" Jed was barely keeping his anger under control. "That you whipped him and threw him into the dark cell out of REVENGE!?"

Mitchell sat back again and returned Jed's glare.

"I'd watch my temper if I were you, Mr. Curry." Mitchell warned him through tight lips.

"I am watching it!" Jed insisted. "IT'S RISING!"

"You and Mr. Heyes both knew the risks!" Mitchell threw back. "That's the end of it!"

"That is not the end of it!" Jed yelled, his fist coming down on the desk. "You broke him! He's a wreak of the man he used to be—AND FOR WHAT!? REVENGE!? He's no use to you now, he's no use to anybody! YOU SUCCEEDED, DIDN'T YOU!? You destroyed him! You WON! Alright!? You won! He wants death now, he wants to die! You want to complete your revenge upon him—then let him go! Give him his pardon—force him to go on living now that he no longer wants it!"

Mitchell sat back again, with a satisfied smile on his face. He knew he had won; he didn't need Jed to tell him that, and now it was time to bring his victory to its final glory.

"If Mr. Heyes is indeed a broken man, then he is of no use in society." The Warden pointed out. "Therefore, I see no point in releasing him. He would only become a useless burden on the civilized people of this territory. Obviously the best thing for him would be to stay with us where he won't have to worry about anything. We'll keep him busy with some menial tasks so that he can at least believe that he's still of some worth. A much better solution to the problem than to release him back out into a world that he is no longer capable of dealing with. Don't you agree?"

Kid was livid. He was beyond anger now, beyond fury. He was cold right into his core and he leaned onto his hands and glared at the warden straight in the face.

"There is something I am going to say to you right now Mr. Mitchell, that I never in my life thought that I would ever say to another person." Jed said quiet as death. "And even though it stands the risk of sounding like an empty cliche, I can't help myself because it fits this situation so completely."

"Really, Mr. Curry." Mitchell commented dryly. "And what, might I ask is that?"

Curry leaned even further into him. "You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

And Jed turned on his heel and stomped out of the office.

Jed hadn't gone straight home after leaving the prison, he stayed on the train and continued on to Denver. He needed to speak with Steven and there was no time like the present.

Arriving at their home in Denver, Jed knocked on the open front door, hoping that Steven would be at home and thought ruefully that maybe he should have sent a telegram from Laramie. On the other hand, there was no guarantee that Steven would have received it in time anyways, so what would have been the point?

Almost right away he heard footsteps coming from the back of the house and he saw Bridget through the screen door coming towards the porch to answer the knocking. She smiled when she saw her friend and quickly opened the screen door for him to enter.

"Jed! What a pleasant surprise!" She exclaimed as she took him into a hug.

Jed hugged her back and they exchanged kisses on their cheeks. He couldn't help but grin even wider as he felt the roundness of her belly press against him and he gave her an even deeper hug.

"How are you Bridget?" He asked her as they separated. "Everything going okay?"

"Yes!" She stated adamantly, as though why shouldn't they be, but then she smiled shyly and caressed her own tummy. "Everything is going fine." She assured her friend. "Have you told him yet, that there's going to be another addition to the clan?"

"No, not yet." Jed admitted. "I don't think that news like that would mean anything to him at this time."

Bridget frowned. "Is it that bad?"

Jed looked solemn then and nodded, though he couldn't quite bring himself to elaborate any more than that. "Is Steven at home?"

"Yes." Bridget nodded and began to lead the way down the hall. "He's in his study right now, but I'm sure he'll be glad to see you.

She opened the door to one of the back rooms and announced their visitor.

"Steven, Jed's here."

Steven looked up from the paperwork and smiled a greeting.

"Jed! C'mon in!" He welcomed his friend as he stood up to usher him into the room and over to a comfy chair. "Give me a break from this cursed paperwork."

Jed came in and sat down with a sigh. Steven's expression turned from a smile to a frown as he took note of his friend's apparent mood.

"Is this a social call, or...?"

"No, it's business Steven." Jed admitted. "About Heyes."

"I'll go put on the kettle for tea." Bridget offered as she closed the door on them. "Then I'll be back, because I want to hear about this too."

Both men smiled at that comment and then settled in to discuss business. Bridget could catch up on events when she returned.

"So, Jed. What's up?"

Jed groaned, not quite sure where to begin. "You know what Heyes has been going through out at that prison?"

"Oh yeah." Steven was emphatic. "You and David have certainly made sure that I was up date."

"Yeah, well." Jed sighed and again was finding it hard to put things into words. "My last visit with Heyes was...well...frightening to say the least."

"Frightening?"

"Yeah. He ah...he told me he was going...kill himself." Here Jed's voice caught and he swallowed to try and loosen this throat again.

"Oh, my God." Steven responded. "Was he serious? Do you think he meant it?"

Jed nodded. "Oh yeah. He was serious. It was really weird Steven. It was like it wasn't even him anymore. It was like...I donno. It was frightening. All he could talk about was how nice it was 'over there' and that death was what he wanted and that we should just let him go. He kept talking about seeing dead people and having conversations with that doctor friend of his who was killed last month. It was just weird Steven, and I'm scared to death he's gonna do it! I just couldn't talk him out of it. He wouldn't listen to reason."

"No." Steven said quietly. "When someone is suicidal they don't see reason. It's as though their logical mind just shuts down and they disappear into their own reality. Does Officer Reece know about this?"

Jed nodded. "Yeah." Then he snorted sardonically. "He says he'll 'watch' Heyes. Keep an eye on him! For all the good that is going to do!"

"I know." Steven nodded sympathetically. "But for now Jed, that's probably all he can do. Just watch and wait, and hopefully stop him if and when he does try something. Other than that..." Steven shrugged. "Is there something you wanted me to do now?"

"I donno." Jed sounded discouraged. "I talked with Warden Mitchell and that bastard admitted right to my face that he knew Heyes hadn't killed Dr. Morin and probably wasn't a willing participant in the prison break either, but he made sure there was no one else within hearing distance before he admitted it, so..."

"Oh yes." Steven nodded. "That's not good. If no one else heard it then it's your word against his and that certainly won't hold up in court."

Jed smacked the arm of his chair and then stood up and began to pace.

"I just don't get it Steven!" He exclaimed. "Ever since Heyes went in there this Mitchell as been on his back! Like he's been deliberately trying to break him! And now he has and he still won't let up! It's like he won't stop until Heyes is actually dead! And for what!? It just doesn't make any sense!"

"No, it doesn't. At least not on the surface." Steven agreed. "Is there any connection that you know of between Heyes and Mitchell? I mean, outside the prison? Did they know each other before? Did Heyes commit some crime against him on a personal level that you know of?"

"No!" Jed as adamant. "Neither of us had ever heard of Mitchell before Heyes went into that damn prison!"

"Hmm." Steven sat back to consider. Jed sighed and sat back down in his chair to await any suggestions.

Just then the door opened and Bridget came in rolling the serving tray with her, laden with a tea pot, cups and some pastries.

"Here we are." She announced. "Always time for tea." Then she noticed the solemn expressions coming back at her. "Oh dear. That bad?"

She quickly poured out three cups of tea, and knowing what each person took in theirs she prepared each cup to their liking and handed them out. That done, she took her own cup and sat down in the only other empty chair in the room. She didn't ask what was going on and just settled in to listen to the conversation from where it was and catch up on the details later.

"Heyes is better now physically." Jed continued. "I thought that maybe you could talk to him, ask him about what really happened during that prison break, and what he does know about Dr. Morin. I mean, that's why Kenny was able to get him out of the dark cell wasn't it? So that Heyes could have a chance to defend himself against those accusations? Especially when Kenny himself was denying the truth of the charges against him."

"It doesn't really sound to me as though 'now' would be a good time to do that." Steven commented.

"Why not?" Jed was almost incensed. "Maybe if the truth could be brought to light, Heyes might..."

"From what you tell me, I don't think Mr. Heyes would be a very reliable witness at this time." Steven cut him off. "If he truly wants to die then he might very well lie about what really happened in the infirmary that day."

"Why would he lie about it?" Jed asked, though truth be known, he knew why he just didn't want to admit it.

"What better way to insure his own execution than to admit to cold blooded murder?" Steven pointed out what Jed already knew. "Even if he didn't kill Dr. Morin, all he'd have to do is say that he did and he would succeed in accomplishing what he thinks he wants."

"I admitted to cold blooded murder." Jed quietly pointed out.

"Those were under different circumstances Jed, and you know it." Steven reminded him. "And even at that it was nothing short of a miracle that you got off. In Mr. Heyes' situation I hardly think we could expect the same outcome. Even if the authorities didn't execute him he'd be right back into facing a life sentence—he'd never get out of there."

Jed sat sullenly and sipped his tea. Bridget was looking a little concerned, quietly looking back and forth between the two men. She wasn't liking the sound of this at all.

"I'll tell you what I can do, if you like." Steven offered, and Jed looked up with interest. "I could put it to the Prison Commission that Mr. Heyes is no longer of sound mind and should be transferred to the Territorial Insane Asylum. One that is more equipped to deal with this situation."

"NO!" Jed shook his head adamantly. "No way! I'd rather shoot him myself than send him to one of those places!"

Steven looked confused. "I would have thought that would be better." He reasoned. "It would get him out of that atmosphere; into one that was more nurturing..."

"NO!" Jed repeated, almost getting angry now. "No. Heyes and I helped a friend of ours get someone out of a place like that. She had been wrongly committed by her husband who was just trying to get her out of the way. Our friend was determined to get her out of there, and after what I saw going on in that place..." Jed shook his head, almost looking sick. "No way!" He repeated. "No way Heyes is going there! At least at the prison he has friends. Kenny will watch out for him, and Sister Julia too. No. We need to get Heyes out of there all together, not just transfer him someplace else."*

Steven nodded, not willing to push a point that was obviously so unacceptable. "Alright." He conceded. "Then, I can go to the Prison Commission and inform them of the statement that Mr. Mitchell made to you, even though there were no other witnesses to this confession. At least there would be an official recording of it.

"Then I can go and have a visit with Mr. Mitchell as well and remind him that it would be in his best interests to see that Heyes be treated fairly and given whatever support he needed to recover from his ordeal. Remind him again that we are watching him and paying attention.

"While I'm there I will probably have a word with Mr. Heyes as well. See for myself what his state of mind is and then make some decisions as to how to proceed. Is that acceptable to you Jed? See where Heyes is at and then go from there?"

Jed sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. I just hope Kenny knows what he's doing."

Steven nodded and took a drink of tea, contemplating what his next move should be.

"You'll stay for dinner and the night, won't you Jed?" Bridget asked hopefully as she didn't get to see her friend often these days. "It's too late for you to carry on home now anyways."

The two men smiled at each other. Jed nodded.

"Yes Bridget." He agreed. "I'll stay the night. Thank you."

Heyes stood out in the yard. The nights were chilly now hinting of the autumn colours soon to come and the never ending winds just would not give up, but the days were still very warm and the sun heated up the inside courtyard almost like an oven. Heyes stood out in the yard. He didn't feel the afternoon heat, it was chilly to him and the fallen leaves were rimmed with glittering silver. He was aware of his surroundings—he was completely aware of where he was, but it was as though he were seeing it in a dream. He couldn't even remember how he had gotten here, he was just here—and he was on a mission.

He was vaguely aware of other activity in the yard. There were other inmates out, getting some fresh air and exercise despite the heat and none of them were paying any attention to Heyes. There was a new dominate now, some non-discript by the name of Gunther who had basically won the position by default. Everyone knew that Heyes was broken now, that he was no longer a contender. No one paid him any mind.

Heyes stood out in the yard. Kyle had been a pest to say the least. He hadn't left Heyes' side since he had returned from the infirmary, that is until he had been forced to do so by the night call to return to cells. Otherwise, Kyle had been a constant shadow. Heyes had sighed, and simply accepted the inconvenience. He wasn't in any hurry and Kyle couldn't stay with him for ever. Sooner or later Heyes would find an opportunity to slip away from his guardian and do what he needed to do. And finally that opportunity did indeed present itself.

Heyes stood out in the yard. He didn't feel the afternoon heat. It was cold and frost covered the ground. As though in a daze he looked around the yard absently noting who was there and who wasn't. There was Ames over by the far wall, feeling resentful that Kyle was no longer hanging out with him. Gunther was there too, trying to look important, but not really sure what to do with his new found leadership role. Thompson was there, talking to some new hire and probably giving him advise on how to use the bully club. And there was Carson, standing casually with his back to Heyes.

Heyes' focus zeroed in on him. 'That f***ing p***k! Have I said that before?'

"Yeah Doc, yea have." Heyes mumbled to himself.

Heyes continued to glare at the unsuspecting back. A new plan of action began to take form and Heyes smiled quietly to himself. This was good, this was how it was supposed to be. Carson was right in front of him, all he had to do was tackle him, get him in a headlock and snap his neck. It would be so easy and so appropriate. The powers that be would have to end Heyes' life then. Even if his run to the wall failed, they'd have to execute him for killing a guard. It was the perfect opportunity; Carson was helping him to achieve his goal without even knowing it. Doc said that one shouldn't seek revenge, that those things didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, but it wouldn't be revenge—it would be justice!

Heyes looked around; nobody was watching him. This is the moment he had been waiting for. Carson was in his sights. All he had to do was get to him, snap his neck and then make his final run to the wall. It was clear sailing, there was no one in his way. A quick glance up to the guard towers assured him that they were well manned and the guards there were capable of full filling their part in this drama. Heyes smiled to himself with satisfaction. Finally. Finally he could go home.

He zeroed in on the far wall. He could see the blood on it and he knew that it was his and he felt comforted knowing that his pain and worries were now coming to an end. He smiled. 'I'm coming Doc. I'm coming back to where you are.' He took a deep breath and the muscles in his legs tightened and bunched up in preparation for his fatal run and then he was off and...

"What's on your mind this afternoon Mr. Heyes?"

Heyes had no choice but to pull up short. He hadn't even put in one stride and then there was Kenny standing in his way, his grey eyes boring in to Heyes and stopping him dead in his tracks.

Heyes' mouth opened as though to reply, but nothing came out and he stood there then, in total confusion now that his ultimate goal had been disrupted. His mind was spinning and he found himself at a total loss as to how to respond.

"Convict. Follow me."

Then Kenny did one of the hardest things he had ever had to do in his professional life; he turned his back on the inmate and began to walk away. He knew that he could not show doubt or indecision, he had to trust that the years of conditioning of the inmate to follow that particular order, that particular command without thought, without question would win through. To trust that Heyes would follow through and respond to that invisible line between them that would force him to fall in step and follow the guard wherever he led.

Kenny would not allow himself to look over his shoulder; he looked straight ahead and walked confidently towards the access door that would lead them back into the cell block. But though his eyes were focused forward, he ears were straining to pick up any noise behind him, and sure enough; he knew Heyes was following.

The inmate's focus had been totally destroyed. He'd given no thought to what was going to happen after he made his fatal run—why would he? Mortal events would no longer be of any consequences; he hadn't needed to think beyond the act itself. So when that act had been so suddenly interrupted, the inmate's mind had nowhere else to go and he was adrift in a sea of nothingness.

The guard's command pushed it's way through the fog and surrounded his mind. It took control and when the inmate's mind had nowhere else to go, it latched on to that command like a safety line thrown out to a drowning soul. It never even occurred to him to not obey, that there was no longer any reason to obey. Since death was what he wanted, the guards no longer had any control over him, but that obvious truth never occurred to him. Without question, without thought, Heyes turned from his destructive course and followed the source of the order allowing himself to be led back into the prison proper like a broke horse on halter being led back to the stable.

Kenny took them across the yard and back inside the cell lock. His whole focus was aimed behind him at the inmate, consciously willing him to follow along—to keep on coming. So far so good. He walked across the empty work floor and over to the staircase. He took hold of the hand railing and began the ascent up to the third floor. He could have put Heyes in any cell for the time being, but instinctively he knew that any deviation from the norm could set the inmate off—could break that precious contact so Kenny chose to take the risk and lead the convict up to the third level. Up to his own cell—his own haven.

Going up the steps Kenny could hear the foot steps coming along behind him and he knew that for now he still had control. It was precious though, and tenuous. Anything could disrupt it, anything could break the focus. He had to get Heyes back into his cell before he came around to his own senses—his own reasoning. Before he realized what was happening.

Finally—an eternity later they were up on the third level and Kenny led the way along the walkway towards cell number 312. They arrived at it and Kenny walked passed the open door and then turned to face the inmate who had come up behind him. Kenny did not say a word but simply motioned for the inmate to carry on into his cell. It was a routine act, one that Heyes followed without question and he stepped passed the guard and entered into his familiar surroundings and then stood, just inside the door, staring at the far wall.

Kenny stepped forward and manually closed the door on him and locked it. He wasn't done yet though, he didn't relax. More was to come and he knew it. He looked around him and found that Murrey had been following along behind this strange procession and was now approaching his boss to see if he was needed for anything. Kenny nodded at him, bringing him closer in.

"Go get the Doc." Kenny whispered, afraid that any loud voices right now would set the inmate off. "Tell him to bring that sedative that Dr. Gibson used when he was here."

Murrey creased his brow. "What sedative?" He asked in a normal voice. "Why?"

Kenny cringed and gestured him to be quiet. "Just tell him!" He whispered. "The sedative in the syringe! And make it fast! Go!"

"Yeah, yeah alright." Murrey agreed, but at the same time expressing his dubiousness at the necessity of this act. But he turned and headed towards the infirmary anyways; it was hardly his place to argue with one of the bosses.

Kenny pulled his bully club out from his belt and then looked around for some back up and very much to his relief Pearson had also taken note of the situation and was now approaching to see if he could be of help. Kenny nodded at him and motioned for him to have his club ready.

"What's up?" Pearson whispered as he pulled his club.

"Just be ready." Kenny cautioned quietly. "Doc's coming with a sedative but he may not be here in time."

"In time for what?"

And then both men involuntarily stepped back as a large heavy object banged into the cell door from the inside.

"JESUS CHRIST! What was that!?" Pearson exclaimed, suddenly very nervous.

Then a wild animalistic yell came from inside the cell and the same heavy object smashed into the bars again. It was followed by a scream that sent icicles from the devil down their spines and they had both stepped back even further until they were up against the hand railing, their hearts in their throats. Then another crashing and a splattering of blood shot out to land upon the isle floor.

"JEEZ! What's he doing!?" Pearson asked, shaking but holding his club up and ready.

"He's bashing himself up against the door!" Kenny informed him. "Dammit! Where is Murrey with that doctor!?"

Another wild scream hit their ears and another assault hit against the door of the cell. Kenny was almost frantic! He didn't dare enter the cell with the inmate in this destructive state of mind but he also knew that if Heyes hit the bars too many more times that he was going to accomplish exactly what he had been trying to do out in the yard.

"C'mon! Where are they!?"

"There!" Pearson pointed them out. "They're coming."

Kenny followed Pearson's indicator and saw the two men coming up the far stairway and onto their level. He waved at them to hurry up and they started to run. Dammit! They should have been running all along! What the hell was the matter with Murrey, was the man brain dead!?

Finally they arrived just as Heyes screamed and ran full force into the door again causing the two new comers to jump back in alarm.

"Alright." Kenny said a little breathlessly. "You got the sedative?"

The young doctor looked pale and anxious but nodded and held up the syringe as proof of his reliability.

"Okay." Kenny nodded and then was interrupted by another crash against the barred door and more blood putting in an appearance. "Dammit!" He took a deep breath, getting himself under control to handle this situation. "Murrey, get your club out! Be ready. Okay. Next time he makes a rush, Pearson you open the door and then Murrey, you and I will tackle him and get him down on his bunk. Then Pearson you get in there and help us hold him. Then Miller, you get in there as fast as you can and get that sedative into him—you understand? As fast as you can!"

Dr. Miller could not have looked more out of place. He was shaking and was as pale and clammy as a fevered patient would have been, but he met Kenny's eyes and nodded his understanding. He knew it was now or never. Step up to the plate and do the job or he may as well pack his bags and go home to mother. He bit his lower lip, but got ready none the less.

There was a crashing from inside the cell, then swearing and then another wild high pitched screaming and the heavy bulk of a human body battered itself against the bars again and then retreated. Pearson yanked opened the lock and pulled the door wide. Kenny and Murrey made a concentrated rush into the cell and Pearson was right behind them.

Heyes saw them coming! His face was smeared with blood; saliva and mucus mixed with the red fluid was running from his nose and spattering from his mouth. His dark eyes were wild with his rage and his scream was unworldly as he focused his fury and charged the men who threatened him.

They caught him in mid lunge and pushed him backwards. He began to pound on them with his fists, swearing and cursing them with every breath he could draw in and every foul obscenity that he could spew out. He raged against them as his enemies; as the force that was preventing him from getting to that place of peace where he so desperately wanted to be.

They got him back onto the cot, Kenny up at his chest, pushing him down with his bully club against Heyes' throat and doing everything he knew how to do in order to subdue the inmate. Murrey was across his torso, holding him down onto the cot while Pearson coming in last was trying to get hold of the kicking legs.

Heyes gave a choked scream and kicked and fought against his oppressors! He sent Pearson sprawling across the cell and continued to lunge and buck against the pressure holding him down. He tried frantically to sink his teeth into flesh but Kenny was too good at what he did to allow that to happen! But Heyes fought on, screaming and spitting blood while Pearson made his way back into position and got himself laid out across the kicking legs!

Everybody was fighting to hold their positions and Heyes continued to rage and kick and buck like a crazed stallion that was being forced into the slaughtering chute.

"C'mon!" Kenny yelled back at the doctor. "Get in here with that!"

Miller looked frantic! He was scared to death and he really wasn't sure that he could do this. He stood in the aisle way holding up the syringe and tried to get his feet to move.

"C'MON!" Kenny repeated. "DO IT! NOW!"

Miller sucked in a deep breath and took himself in hand. He pushed down his fear and charged into the cell, his syringe ready for action.

Heyes saw the needle coming towards him and yelled and fought even harder, but the three men holding him down had him tight and he wasn't going to get away from them.

"DAMN YOU KENNY!" He screamed in his frustrated rage. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND! I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON MY SIDE!... NO!" This last objection being thrown at the man with the syringe as the doctor found a bare patch of skin between the trousers and the tunic and plunged the needle in. "NO!" Heyes yelled again, but the doc pushed down the plunger and the deed was done. "No!" Heyes was almost crying in his frustration. "No! Damn you Kenny! I SHOULD HAVE LET BOEMAN CUT YOUR THROAT! I SHOULD HAVE LET HIM...I should have let...damn you...this is the thanks I get...I should have let..."

The body beneath the three men gradually began to relax and the cursing to ease off, but still nobody released their hold. Dr. Miller, having found his legs, stepped forward and checked the inmates pupils and heart rate, then standing up he sighed and nodded.

"Okay." He announced. "It's alright, he's out."

There was a great communal sigh of relief and everyone straightened up and then stood silently and stared down at the mess of a man who was blessedly passed out on the cot.

"Alright." Kenny finally ordered as he ran a hand through his hair. "Go fetch leg and arm manacles and get him secured. Attach the leg irons to the underframe of the cot so he has enough length to stand up if he wants, but not enough to reach the door of the cell. Get it done. Now."

The other two guards nodded their understanding and headed off to attain the essentials. Kenny glanced over at the young doctor who was still visibly shaken but holding his own.

"Good job Doc." Kenny complimented him. "You just might make it in here after all."

Miller gave him a weak smile and then glanced down at the drugged inmate.

"I better check him over." He stated matter of factually. "Make sure he didn't break his nose or any of his teeth in that assault on the bars."

"Good idea." Kenny nodded and then exited the cell, leaving the doctor to his job.

Officer Reece then walked calmly down the aisle as though he had not a care in the world, indeed, as he trotted down the steps and passed Murrey and Pearson coming back up with the irons they both silently marvelled at his apparent calm. He gave them a nod as he passed by them and then continued on through the work area and the mess hall towards the officers' lounge where the guards would often retire in order to have a break or to eat their meals.

The room was empty when Kenny got there and that just suited him fine. In an instant he had his bully club out and without hesitation he walked up to the nearest chair and with a yell of pent-up rage began to smash it into match sticks and smithereens until there was nothing left but the anger in his heart and the frustration in his soul.

A few days later Jed did indeed receive a telegram from Kenny letting him know that Heyes had in fact attempted the act, but had been thwarted at the last moment. He was currently being held secure in his cell until such time as he showed a change of heart and indicated some interest in living life again. So far all anyone had been able to get from him was anger—or silence. It could be a long haul but Jed was to take hope in the fact that everyone from the orphans to the Sister, to Dr. Slosson where doing everything they could to get him to respond. Give it time—don't give up. Yeah, give it time.

Jed stayed in town for some time after receiving the telegram because he just didn't feel that he could handle going home and facing everyone. The very act of putting this nightmare into words was beyond his capabilities because putting it into words would somehow make it all true, somehow make it irretrievable. And Jed just couldn't face that. He had no idea how to deal with this, he was absolutely powerless and knowing that enraged him.

He went over to the saloon and ordered a shot of whiskey and downed it in one go. Then he kept the glass and ordered the whole bottle. A few of the regulars, remembering the last time Kid Curry had gotten falling down drunk in their establishment (but stayed standing) shifted away from the bar, giving the gunman some extra space. A few of them even decided to make it an early afternoon, not wanting to stick around for any more of those kinds of fireworks.

Their concerns were needless however, since Jed had no intentions of getting drunk in the saloon; he'd rather go home and do that. So no, he poured himself a second drink from his bottle and nursed this one while he stood, elbowed up against the bar and played that last conversation with his cousin over and over again in his mind. He'd chew his lower lip, shaking his head and muttering obscenities until even Bill creased his brow and wondered when the self-destruction was going to begin.

But as Jed stood and mulled things over and over in his mind, one fact that should have been obvious if he hadn't been so distraught finally began to filter its way into his consciousness. Of all the straws he had been pulling out of the hat, of all the things he had said to try and sway Heyes' decision, only one had any real effect. Only one made him stop and lose his focus, made him become defensive—angry even, because it had hit so close to home.

Yeah. Maybe, just maybe they could use that as ammunition, use that to give Heyes a reason to hang on. Jed finished his drink, sealed the bottle and headed out the door of the saloon and made his way over to the telegraph office to send a message—a plea—a bargaining chip. Help.

_'Topeka Kansas. Mrs. Abigail Stewart. Dear Abi...'_

Jed only hoped that it wouldn't get to her too late.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Another swig from the whiskey bottle, a stagger over to the handy log to replace the battered tin cans, then stagger back to his mark, turn around and check the gun's chamber. It looked blurry so he felt it with his fingers, feeling the empty slots and then gathering more cartridges from his belt he sloppily attempted to reload his six-shooter.

DAMMIT! He got one cartridge in and then dropped the other two. S**t! He squatted down and felt around in the dirt for the metal cylinders and then finding them, he made a second attempt to get them loaded into the chamber. He finally succeeded, and standing up he swayed and had to move fast to re-balance himself. Another swig from the bottle, then placing it down on the ground beside him, he pushed out three more cartridges from his belt and tried to focus enough to get them loaded.

He finally succeeded in this endeavour and then closed and spun the chamber. He snorted with satisfaction and cocking the hammer he squinted and took aim. No—that's not what he wanted to do. He slid the gun back into its holster, on the third try—and then took another long drink from the bottle. He swayed and cursed again, then took a deep breath and steadied himself just to make sure that he didn't fall over. He squinted at the row of cans and tried to imagine them as Warden Mitchell and Governor Warren, not to mention Governor Moonlight—yeah, he wouldn't mind shooting any one of those a**holes. Yeah.

Another swig from the bottle. He squared himself off again and squinted at his targets. Deep breath. Quiet. Relaxed. Focused. Then—a flash of movement and; BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! He sniffed, spun his six-shooter and slipped it back into its holster. Reached down and picked up the bottle and took another swig. Put the bottle down and swaggered back to replace the tin cans on the log...

Down in the yard Jesse stood in the open door of the first barn and looked towards the hill behind the house and listened to the repeated gunfire with trepidation in his heart. Jed had returned from town already half drunk and without a word to anyone had gathered up his armoury and had headed up the hill at the back of the house where he usually did his target practice. He had been up there for more than an hour now and with the sun going down it was getting cold and would be dark soon. Jesse was a little bit worried for his friend, bud knew that the younger man had to work this out for himself.

He was just about to turn back into the barn to do the evening feeding when he noticed his youngest daughter come out of the front door of the house and start to make her way around the structure, towards the back hillside. Jesse was on the move instantly and running up behind Beth he grabbed her arm and stopped her in mid stride.

She turned in surprise at the obstruction and then tried to pull away from the hold her father had on her.

"No Papa!" She protested. "This has gone on long enough! He needs to come inside—he hasn't had any supper and it's getting cold out!"

"NO! Leave him be."

"But Papa...!"

"Beth!" Jesse tried to reason with her. "That's Kid Curry up there! He's angry, he's drunk and he has a loaded gun! Sweetheart, you need to learn when to leave the man alone."

An hour later Jed finally felt the cold seeping into his fingers to the point where he could no longer pull the trigger of his gun and so decided to call it a night. He did one more fast draw practice where he successfully shattered to pieces the empty whiskey bottle. He spun his six shooter, dropped it, cursed and stooped down to pick it up again and nearly ended up face first in the dirt. He managed to save himself though and picking up his gun, gave it a successful spin this time and slipped it into the holster.

Leaving the broken glass and discarded cartridge shells scattered about the area he then turned and made his unsteady way back down the hill and into the horse barn. He knew he should have been doing chores, should have been helping Jesse with the evening feeding but after reading that telegram from Kenny he just hadn't had the heart to face anybody and all he'd really wanted to do was get drunk.

Well he had certainly accomplished that alright and he'd probably regret it in the morning too, but that was then and this was now; he'd worry about the morning when the morning came. He sighed and then went down the isle of stalls to give a quick check on his young gelding only to find that Jesse had already taken care of the horse and had him settled into his stall. Jed opened the stall door and went in, running his hand along the horse's flank and then moving up to give him a pat on the neck. Young Gov was too busy munching on his hay to give the human much notice, but despite the strong smell of alcohol, he gave a quiet contented snort anyways and continued on munching.

Jed gave his horse a pat on the neck and then left the stall. He had just turned to latch the stall door closed when he heard a rustling behind him and he spun on instinct, nearly over-balancing himself in the process. He grabbed onto the top of the stall door for support and once steadied, sent a rather accusing glance over to whoever it was who had startled him.

Belle stood in the aisle looking a little apprehensive, but smiled quietly at him all the same in order to put him at his ease. Jed sighed and felt a little contrite, but uncomfortable as well and he pushed himself off the stall door and walked passed the woman in hopes of finding something to busy himself with in the front of the barn. He stood facing the wooden counter that held a number of the barn utensils and began to rummage around in them just to give his hands something to do.

"Thaddeus, what's wrong?" Belle asked quietly. "Is Joshua alright?"

"No." Jed answered tightly. His emotions rose up at the sound of Belle's voice and they threatened to choke him. He fought hard for control but he feared it was going to be a loosing battle. "No he isn't alright."

Belle felt fear touch her heart and she wanted to take her young friend into her arms and comfort him as she had done once before, but she also felt the anger emanating from him and knew that it was best to keep her distance. At least for now.

"What's happened?" She asked in barely more than a whisper. Jed had let them know that Joshua was struggling with things and now she was fearful of what the answer might be.

Jed clutched the edge of the bench until his knuckles where white and he fought to keep his anger from exploding out.

"Nothing has happened—yet." Jed answered through a tight jaw. "But if Heyes has his way..." He stopped, still not able to put this anarchy into words. His throat was burning and he felt the hot bitter tears behind his eyes threatening to come forth. He closed his eyes tight, but a tear came forth anyways and he angrily brushed it away.

"That bastard." He whispered, just barely loud enough for Belle to hear him. "What the hell makes him think that he's the only one suffering here? That he's the only one who's in...pain? What makes him think that all he has to do is step out of the picture and everything will be fine!?" Jed's voice rose now, becoming louder as his anger forced its way out from his chest and screamed at its own impotency to make a difference.

"What makes him think that we could all just carry on and be happy and find contentment in our lives with him gone!? HOW DARE HE SAY THAT HE'S DOING THIS FOR ME!"

"Thaddeus...don't..." Belle couldn't help herself in her anguish for her friend and reaching out a consoling hand she took a step towards him.

Jed spun violently and pushed her away. "NO!" His yell was feral, brutal—overwhelming. "DAMN HIM IF HE DOES THIS! DAMN HIM TO HELL!"

"No! Thaddeus please! Don't say that, you don't mean it!" Belle pleaded with him. "You know you don't mean it. Please..."

Jed turned away from her again, his fists gripping his hair, his face a picture of pure agony. He was lost in his anger and frustration and in his inability to have any effect on anything. His anger and his fear rose up and enveloped him and he felt as powerless as a rudderless boat being tossed about upon an angry sea.

"Please." Belle whispered and again reached out and placed a quiet hand on his arm. "Please don't say that Thaddeus. You don't mean it, you know you don't. You're hurting and you're angry—I know. But I also know that you love him dearly and that you don't mean it."

"NO!? You think not!?" Jed turned on her again. "He obviously doesn't care about me—about what he'd be putting me through, so why should I give a damn about him!?"

"Because you do." Belle answered sensibly and she squeezed his arm and stepped in a little closer. "I know that I offered this before and you didn't feel the need to accept, but I offer it again in this time of your need. Come to services with me Thaddeus. You might find comfort and support there. God can bring...,"

"GOD!?" Jed yelled back at her. "WHAT GOD!? THERE IS NO GOD! How could 'God' destroy families, butcher babies! How could 'God' abandon us into that hell hole of an orphanage and then call us 'sinners' for the life it threw us into!? Then after everything we've done to try and straighten our lives out, He sends Heyes into yet another hell hole and leaves him there to be broken and shattered until his will to live has been bled out of him and he's not even HIMSELF ANYMORE! What kind of a god does that and then still claims to love us!?"

Belle felt tears roll down her cheek. Thaddeus' words had hurt her to her very soul, but she did not step back from him in the face of his anger and instead, leaned in closer with her desire to bring comfort to him.

"Having faith in God doesn't mean that nothing bad is ever going to happen to you." She told him gently, trying to cover her own hurt. "It doesn't mean that you won't have tragedy in your life, or that you won't lose people whom you love. What it gives you is strength to cope with these hard things that come to us all. It offers you guidance to find your way through the dark times until you are able to see your way clear again. Please Thaddeus, come with me..."

"NO!" Came Jed's adamant refusal. "I don't want anything to do with your 'GOD'! You go and pray to Him if you think it'll make any difference, but as far as I'm concerned you'll only be praying to an empty sky!"

Then Jed turned his back on her again and she felt the wall come down between them. She pulled away from him then and wiping the silent tears from her face she turned and walked back through the semi-darkness towards the house.

Jesse met her half way and took her into his arms. She pressed into him and allowed the tears to roll freely and he held her tightly and stroked her hair until her quiet sobs ceased and her breathing settled. He kissed her on the top of her head and stroked her hair again.

"I better go have a talk with him." He reasoned. "He has no right to be yelling at you."

Belle pushed herself away from her husband and smiled gently up at him.

"Don't be angry with him." She said. "He's hurting, and angry because he doesn't know what do to. He's frightened Jesse, getting angry with him isn't going to help."

"I didn't say I was going to get angry with him." Jesse assured her. "I just said I was going to have a talk with him. I'll see you back up in the house in a little bit. Alright?"

Belle smiled and then nodded. "Alright."

Jesse walked into the barn to see that Jed had led his disappointed gelding out of his stall and had tethered him to the center post in preparation of tacking him up. He was busy running a soft brush over the horse's hide and pretended that he hadn't heard Jesse come into the barn.

Jesse stood silently for a moment, watching the proceedings with a growing irritation tightening his jaw.

"What do you think you're doing Jed?"

"I'm leaving." Came the obvious response. "Go spend the night in town."

"Well, that certainly is what you're good at." Jesse commented dryly. "Running away."

"I'm not running away." Jed insisted tightly as he started to brush his horse harder. "I just need to get away."

"Get away from what?" Jesse asked him. "You yell at my wife, hurt her when all she is trying to do is help you and you think that the only way to deal with that is to run into town and get even more drunk than you are right now?"

Jed turned on Jesse, anger in his eyes, but the stagger in his step taking away some of his intensity.

"I'm not running away!" He insisted. "I just need some time to myself!"

"So is this what you're always going to do?" Jesse asked him. "After you're married, and you have a fight with Beth are you going to just walk out on her? Leave her on her own for who knows how long just so that you can have some 'time alone'?"

"No." Jed answered, his anger suddenly deflated and his mood sobering. "No. I would never do that to Beth."

"But you already have Jed." Jesse pointed out. "Whenever there is a confrontation that you can't handle with your gun, you run away. That strategy won't work in a marriage Jed. You can't just run away and drown your sorrows in a whiskey bottle, you have to learn to deal with things as a man, as a husband and as a father. You can't just run away and get drunk."

Jed stood silently, gently swaying. Gov was becoming hopeful that he wasn't going to be expected to head out for a ride after all, especially now that darkness was coming down.

"Do you think that Belle and I have never fought?" Jesse asked him, then he gave an ironic laugh. "We've had our battles—believe me! And some of them have been whoppers! But I have never run out on her. I have never hit her, or turned my back. We might be yelling, but we talk it out. And that's what you have to do Jed—you have to stick around and talk it out."

"I've never heard you and Belle yell at each other."

"No." Jesse admitted with a smile. "Not anymore. You should have heard us when the girls were young. But we learned how to talk things out, we learned that it was okay to be mad as long as you remained respectful to one another and talked it out. All I've seen from you is a tendency to get mad and then run away. You can't do that in a marriage Jed, and expect it to work."

Jed looked a little contrite and then slumped his shoulders in defeat. "I didn't mean to yell at Belle." He conceded. "I'm sorry I yelled at her. She's the last person in the world I would want to hurt."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to." Jesse pointed out. "Come into the house and tell her that yourself. Belle isn't angry with you and Beth has been keeping your supper warm. Besides that, you try to ride into town now, in your state of intoxication you'll probably end up killing yourself and your horse. And he's a good horse—I'd hate to see you waste him."

Jesse had hoped to get a bit of a laugh out of the younger man, but Jed looked even more depressed than he had before the conversation. He turned and absently began to stroke his horse's neck, hoping to find some comfort there.

"I don't know what to do Jesse." Jed finally mumbled. "I've done everything I know how and it's not good enough." Jed stopped then and swallowed down the tightness in his throat. He stood quietly and continued to stroke his horse's neck and then he finally turned and met Jesse's gaze, his blue eyes full of anguish and his heart was breaking. "I'm loosing him Jesse." His voice strained with fear. "I'm loosing him and there's nothing I can do about it."

Heyes lay on his cot and stared up a ceiling that he could see, but saw nothing there but despair and resentment. He was shackled hand and foot and the door to his cell was kept locked day and night. He couldn't even get up to read a book, even if he'd wanted to. One of the guards, usually Murrey or Davis would come in about four times a day to allow him to use the 'honey bucket' if he needed to, and to bring him food if he wanted it.

Then the cuffs would go back on and he would be left in his cell to stare at the ceiling to wallow in his own impotency and time had no meaning. He felt nothing. Nothing but resentment. All his other emotions had been depleted from him and he just lay on his cot day in and day out and stared at the ceiling.

He ignored all efforts to get him to eat. Why would he want to eat? Abi had said in her letter that there were better ways to commit suicide than to starve oneself to death, but when all other options have been taken from you, well...

He tried to refuse fluids as well but that young doctor was sneaky. He always seemed to manage to get water down Heyes' throat whether Heyes wanted it or not. Often it seemed that Heyes' own body was betraying him in that its desire for water would override his brain's determination to die of thirst. It always seemed that once the fluid was forced into his mouth, his throat would suck it down despite his protestations.

Sister Julia came by and tried to engage him in conversation but he simply turned his head away from her and stared at the wall. He ignored her. Even when she left letters for him from the orphans he ignored her. His mind was in a world of its own and he felt nothing but despair and resentment.

One evening after Pearson had tried unsuccessfully to get food down his throat, the doctor came in to Heyes' cell to give him the usual sedative to help him sleep through the night and to be less agitated during the day. Pearson unlocked the cell door and let the doctor enter and Heyes actually turned his head from the wall and met the gaze of the young medical man..

"Time for another shot, Doc?" Heyes asked him.

"Ahh, yes." Miller responded, surprised that the inmate was acknowledging him. Up until this point he had only been met with stoic silence. "It'll help you to sleep."

"Hmm." Was Heyes' only comment.

Miller pulled up the sleeve of the tunic and looked for a vein to use for the injection. He frowned a little as he pressed the skin down since all he seemed to be finding were old puncture marks where all the previous injections had taken place. Finally he found a spot that wasn't too bad and pushed the needle in to release the sedative into the inmate's body.

Heyes just accepted it now as a fact of nature. He couldn't fight it, so why bother. He sighed as he felt the needle go in and then turned and smiled at the doctor.

"What would happen if you gave me three times that amount Doc?" He asked through heavy eyelids.

"Ah, well." He answered. "A triple dose would probably kill you." And then he inwardly cringed as he realized that this was probably the last thing he should have said. Sure enough, Heyes smiled at him.

"That's what I thought." He admitted. "How about it Doc? One less uppity inmate to worry about. It would be a pretty easy solution to all our problems."

Miller looked down at the inmate. This man whom he had read so many dime novels about, this notorious outlaw who had seemed to have the world in his hands, and here he was, asking him for release. Asking him for an out to all of his problems. But the doctor knew that he couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry." He said, and genuinely meant it. "I can't do that. It would go against everything I swore to uphold and I just hope that one day you will be able to thank me for not doing what you ask."

Heyes sighed, disappointed but not surprised as he felt the sedative begin to take effect. Dr. Miller stayed with him, sitting beside him on the cot with a hand on his shoulder until he drifted off to sleep and was released from his despair for a short time at least.

The next morning Heyes sat dispassionately on his cot, his manacled feet resting on the floor and his hands temporarily unshackled but setting quietly on his lap. He was staring at nothing and certainly not at the plate of food that was sitting on his table awaiting his attention. Officer Pearson stood back, leaning against the wall of the cell by the open door with his rifle at the ready just in case the despondent inmate suddenly decided to attack somebody. A heavy silence stood between them.

"C'mon Heyes." Pearson finally prompted him. "Eat something why don't ya'? It's been days—you gotta be hungry."

No outward response. Inwardly though Heyes' mind was as active as it had ever been.

_'Why don't you eat it then you bastard?'_ Heyes thought to his inner self. '_Don't tell me I must be hungry! Screw you—if I wanted to eat I would—don't go telling me what I need to do! Why don't you just go away?'_

Finally Pearson gave up and re-shackling Heyes' hands into the cuffs he picked up the plate of untouched food and left the cell, closing and locking the door behind him. Heyes didn't move but just sat where he was and continued to stare into nothing. Outwardly there was no indication at all that he was even aware of his surroundings—no eye movement, no heavy sighs, no acknowledgement to people moving by outside his cell. Nothing.

Finally he swung his legs up onto the cot and lay back down again to simply stare up at the ceiling and appear to all outward appearances to be asleep—except that his eyes were open. Inside his mind Heyes' resentment had built up into anger, into a rage that was seething and unforgiving. His silence became all encompassing and his refusal to respond to the most basic of human contact brought more fear to his friends than any outward act of violence would have done.

At noon Sister Julia was escorted into the cell by Pearson, in the hopes that she might have more luck with getting her friend to eat something. It did not go well.

"Joshua, please sit up and eat something." Julia was almost pleading with him. "It's a good stew. Marilyn made it herself. Please, won't you try some of it."

Heyes physical response was to simply turn his head away from the Sister and stare at the wall of his cell.

_'Why don't you just go away? Why do you people insist on harassing me? Why can't you just leave me alone. I'm not hungry, I don't want any damn stew and I don't care who made it. None of you understand anything—you're all just so stupid! And don't even think about sending Dr. Slosson in here because I won't talk to her either!_

_' All either one of you are going to talk about is how God loves me and how you're going to pray for me and why won't I come to services and find guidance in God's words and all that damn crap! GO AWAY! I know where I want to be—I know how to get there! But nobody will let me go! And I'm supposed to be thankful for this!? None of you understand anything! JUST GO AWAY!'_

"I've heard from Thaddeus." The Sister continued, hoping that news about his cousin would garner a response. "He's worried about you. He'd like to come and see you again. Don't you want to see him Joshua?"

_'NO!' The scream exploded silently inside his mind. 'Why would I want to see him!? That traitor! I waited! Intentionally waited before I left this place just so that I could talk to him and let him know that he didn't need to worry about me, that I was fine—that this was what I wanted! And what does he do!? He turns traitor that's what! He knifed me in the back! Gave me away to the enemy! THAT BASTARD!_

_'I thought he was my friend! I thought Kenny was my friend! But now I see them for who they really are! They've both turned against me—they're in it together, I know they are! Conspiring against me! Why would I want to see either one of them again? That bastard Kenny! I should have let Boeman cut his throat. I should have._

_'I've only got one friend now and everyone is doing everything they can to stop me from getting to him! Doc's the only one who cares about me. He showed me how I could be happy, how I could be free and now everybody is doing everything they can to stop me from going!_

_'DAMMIT! Why can't you people just let me go!? LET ME GO!'_

_Sist_er Julia continued to sit quietly beside her friend, holding on to the bowl of stew and wishing that she could find a way to reach the man laying on the cot. He was so totally unresponsive and she had never experienced anything like this before. She understood outright anger, fear, uncertainty and jealousy, but this, no this was something she had never had to deal with before.

Like everyone else she so much wanted to help her friend, but how do you help someone who won't respond to you? How do you offer hope to someone who is beyond hope and is no longer seeking it?She continued to talk quietly to the back of Heyes' head, to reassure him that she cared about him and that she wasn't going to give up on him and her only acknowledgement from him was silence. Finally Pearson had had enough.

"Sister, I'm sorry." He finally said to her. "I need to get on with my other duties. Perhaps you could come back and try again at suppertime."

The Sister sighed regretfully and then with a nod she stood up and then leaning forward she placed a hand on Heyes' shoulder.

"I'll leave you for now Joshua." She told him. "I'll come back and see you later, alright."

_'NO! Don't come back! I don't want you here—go away! Leave me alone!'_

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and then turned away and followed Officer Pearson back out of the prison proper.

She carried on her own way and retired to her little room that was just off the infirmary. Closing the door behind her she knelt down on the floor beside her bed and grasped the small gold cross which hung around her neck. She closed her eyes and lifting the small cross to her lips she kissed it gently and then holding it tightly against her breast, she prayed.

She prayed for her friend as she had never prayed before. She prayed for his mortal life as well as for his everlasting soul. She prayed for Him to give her strength, for Him to help her to find a way to bring her friend back from the edge. Then she prayed that if they all failed in their endeavours and that her dear friend succeeded in committing that terrible sin of taking his own life that the Good Lord in all his wisdom and forgiveness would still welcome his soul into the Kingdom of Heaven where he may at last find peace.

Heyes lay on his cot and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn't eaten in days and the only water he'd taken in was whatever the amount the young doctor could force down his throat. He wouldn't talk to anyone, wouldn't respond to anyone—he didn't care about anyone.

Kyle came in to see him as usual at the end of his work day. Supper would be done and everyone had the opportunity to relax and visit if they wished to, so long as they did it quietly. Kyle would often bring in a small stool or bench and sit down by the opened cell door and try to engage his friend in idle conversation. It never seemed to work, but Kyle continued to come by every evening and go through the same routine anyways as it did seem to help pass the time. OH, who was Kyle kidding; there were other ways to pass the time, but he knew just as others knew that Heyes was in jeopardy and he wasn't about to ignore his friend at this time.

"Hey ya' Heyes, how was supper?" This was the way the evenings' conversations would usually begin.

_'Fine. Go away.'_

"Those potatoes were ones we growed ourselves in that little garden outside the walls. They was good wasn't they."

_'Hmm.'_

Kyle sat quietly for a moment, not sure if he should mention his next bit of news, but since there was nothing else to really talk about in this one way conversation, he decided to go for broke.

"I've been in here for over a year now." He pointed out a little hesitantly. "So the Warden figures that since I've behaved myself real well that he just might see fit to give me an early release."

_'That's nice.'_

Kyle shuffled his feet and looked down at his hands, obviously uncomfortable with this topic, but feeling the need to get it out anyways.

"I'm not so sure I want to go though." He finally admitted.

_'Don't be an idiot—get out while you can.'_

"I don't think I should be leavin' ya' when yer in this kinda state."

_'I'm not in any kind of state. Just go why don't you!? And speaking of going—GO AWAY!'_

"Kid says that the big time rancher fella that he works for would be willin' ta give me a job." Kyle continued on. "Parently he's gone and bought his-self a new parcel a' land an' he needs some fellas ta winter up in the line cabin ta mend fences and watch the stock—that sorta thing."

_'Fine. Go for it. Just leave me alone.'_

"I donno though." Kyle shuffled again and looked uncomfortable. "I don't think I would like that kinda work." Then he grinned. "It ain't like robbin' trains is it!? I donno..." He gave a bit of a trepidatious look around just to make sure that no one was within ear shot. "I think I might just go join up with one of them gangs that's still runnin' in Wyoming—ya know. Get back doin' what I knows how ta do."

Heyes gave an inward sigh—Kyle never was one for thinking too clearly.

_'Go ahead. You want to do something stupid like that when Jesse is right there offering you the best opportunity you've ever had—fine, go ahead. You're gonna get outa here with a clean slate and you're just gonna throw it all away—whatever._

_'This better not have anything to do with Wheat. Is he still alive Kyle? Is that it? Are you going to throw away all your chances to live clean in order to go meet up with Wheat again? Is that what you're telling me?'_

Kyle's hope rose for a moment as Heyes turned his head and actually made eye contact with him. This was the first time there had been any form of acknowledgement between the two men in close on two weeks and Kyle hoped that maybe he had broken through. But then his heart sank again when Heyes' eyes once more glazed over and he turned his head away to once again stare at the empty wall.

_'I don't care what you do. Just go away and leave me alone.'_

Kyle signed in disappointment. Heyes' attitude was starting to wear thin on everyone.

"Wal, I'll be seein' ya' later Heyes." Kyle mumbled. "Almost time fer lock down anyways."

_'Fine. Thank you. Go away.'_

Out of remorse more than anything else, Jed did accompany Belle in to services that next Sunday. He felt badly for having yelled at her and decided that the least he could do was go along with her suggestion in order to help make up for his thoughtlessness. He hadn't really expected to get anything out of it so ended up being pleasantly surprised at the amount of support that was shown him and concern that the townsfolk apparently felt towards his partner's plight.

Jesse was away on some business of his own that weekend, but Belle, Beth, Jay and Jed took the surrey into town and joined up with David, Tricia and Nathan up near the front of the church. Miranda was also in attendance and seemed to be getting more than her fair share of the attention from some of the young men in the community. She ignored most of the polite advances and stayed close to her group so as not to give any of the gentlemen any hope of gaining access.

She smiled as the Jordan's' joined the group and gave Jed a warm greeting.

"Good morning Jed." She offered. "How are things going? I understand you've had some difficult times."

"Good morning Miranda." Jed returned the greeting while Beth latched onto his arm. "I'm not really sure how things are going, but thank you for asking. I suppose being here can't hurt."

"My sentiments exactly." She agreed with a small laugh, then she leaned in conspiratorially. "I never was one for going to services." She admitted slyly. "But I suppose, when in Rome etc. Etc..."

Jed knitted his brow. What did Rome have to do with going to Sunday services? Oh well. He let it go and just smiled at her.

"Come along Beth." Belle broke in on the discussion. "Why don't we ladies go find seating so that we can all sit together, let the men talk for a while."

"Oh." Beth wasn't sounding too enthusiastic about that, not wanting to leave Jed on his own but finally succumbed to parental pressure. "Alright Momma. I'll see you in there Jed."

"Yes, alright Beth." Jed assured her. "We won't be long."

Once the ladies with the two young boys had departed on their mission, Jed stepped in closer to David and allowed some of his true anxiety to show through. David smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"I know." The doctor sympathized. "This is a difficult thing to deal with. I'm mad too. I knew Hannibal was up to something but he wouldn't talk to me. Why won't people talk to me? I keep on telling them that talking out their worries will make them feel better but all I get back is 'I'm fine David!' 'I don't need to talk David!', 'You're imagining things David!', 'Stop being such a pest David!'. Then the bastard turns around and announces that he's going to kill himself! Goddammit!-oh whoops! Probably shouldn't say that here."

"Yeah, I know." Jed consoled him. "At least you and Kenny suspected that he was up to something but he had me totally duped into believing that everything was fine! ME! I'm his partner, I'm supposed to know him better than anybody! Why couldn't I see this!?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself." David told him. "You're too close to him that's all. The very idea of him doing something like that was just too painful to even look at so you simply didn't see it. We all do that to some degree or another Jed. Don't be too hard on yourself."

"Yeah, I suppose." Jed mumbled though still feeling put out. "But I swear David! If he does this—dammit! I will never forgive him!"

David sighed and put his hand on Jed's shoulder again. "I know. C'mon, let's go inside, I think they're close to starting now anyways. I'm still not sure if praying does help at times like these, but it sure doesn't hurt."

After services everyone was outside again and talking about getting together over at the Gibson's home for a light lunch when Jed suddenly spotted somebody over by the mercantile.

"You folks go on without me." He said to everyone in general. "I'll see ya' over there in a few minutes."

"Oh..."Was Belle's surprised response.

"Jed...?" Came from Beth.

But before anything else could be added, Jed was off and running across the street and was soon half a block down to his destination.

"Joe!" Jed called out. "Joe! Wait up!"

The young deputy swung around at the sound of his name being called, but as soon as he saw who it was a scowl crossed his face and he turned to continue on his way.

"Deputy! C'mon, stop! Let me talk to ya'!"

But Joe continued on, his shoulders tense and the scowl on his face becoming deeper. He was in no mood to talk to the ex-gunman. But Jed wasn't about to give up and as he reached the young man he grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to look at him. Joe's face was like thunder.

"You stay away from me!" He growled at the older man.

"C'mon Joe! He didn't do it!"

"Of course you'd say that!" Joe countered. "He's your friend! You'd say anything to protect him. But I know he did it!"

"He didn't!" Jed insisted. "Your uncle was Heyes' friend too! Heyes respected and admired him—he wouldn't have killed him!"

"Yeah right!" Joe practically spit back at him. "Your partner took advantage of my uncle's friendship with him and knifed him in order to break out of prison! He's a despicable bastard and he deserves to die!"

Joe tried to turn away then but Jed grabbed him again and pulled him around to face him.

"NO!" Jed insisted. "That's not what happened! Another inmate named Boeman did it! Heyes is not a killer—he wouldn't have done that!"

"Warden Mitchell says that he did." Joe was seething.

"HE'S LYING!" Jed yelled, causing a few passers-by to give them a wide berth. "Heyes liked your uncle—he wouldn't have done it!"

"Why would the warden lie about that?"

"I don't know why!" Jed let his frustration come through. "Mitchell's been out to get Heyes right from the start! I don't know why! Some nonsense about revenge, but there's more to it than that—there's gotta be! But I can't figure it out! C'mon Joe! You're a lawman! You know enough about Heyes' history! You know he's not a killer—you know that!"

Joe hesitated then, giving himself time to calm down and to think about it. Finally he nodded.

"I know he's never killed anyone during his outlawing days." He finally conceded. "But that don't mean to say that he wouldn't kill to get outa prison."

"C'mon Joe." Jed persisted, but calmer now that he was starting to make some headway. "Your uncle worked at that prison for years. Do you really think he would have befriended Heyes if there was any chance at all that Heyes was a danger to him? You're uncle liked Heyes, you know that. They were friends. In fact, Heyes was really cut up himself over that loss. He's hurting too."

The two men stood silently for a few minutes, both of them starting to calm down and one, at least hoping that he was getting the message across.

"Yeah, maybe." Joe finally conceded, just a bit. "I know Uncle Walter talked a lot about Heyes. Talked about how pissed off he got sometimes about how smart he was. Made his job look easy."

"Well, there was nothing easy about your uncle's job." Jed told him. "Heyes had a great deal of respect for him and believe me, Heyes doesn't give that easily. He was real sorry about what happened."

"Well, if Heyes didn't kill him...you say a fella named Boeman did it?"

"Yeah, he was another inmate and the one who instigated that escape attempt." Jed informed him. "But he's dead now himself so..."

"Oh." Silence again. Then... "You know we buried Uncle Walter at the cemetery here...I mean, he never did marry or anything, so we were his only family."

"Yeah, I know." Jed admitted. "I should go pay my respects, but I guess I just felt outa place. I didn't really know your uncle, not like Heyes did. But I'll go pay my respects, maybe in lou of Heyes for now."

"Yeah." Joe shrugged. "I suppose. What are ya' gonna do about your partner? If the warden claims that he killed my uncle, but you're sure that he didn't, well...what can you do about that?"

Jed slumped and sighed. "I donno." He admitted. "Just keep putting pressure on Mitchell I suppose. Our lawyer is going to have a word with him, so..." Jed shrugged, he really had no idea where else he could go with this.

"Okay." Joe answered. "If there's anything I can do, just ask. I want justice here, but if my uncle's killer is already dead I sure wouldn't want to see Mr. Heyes get punished for it if he didn't do it."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Then Jed offered his hand for shaking and Joe gave him a small smile and took it. "I'll see ya' later Joe."

"Yeah."

The two men parted company then and Jed made his way over to David's house. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but he was feeling in need of company and he knew that he couldn't do much better than the company of friends.

The next one to put in the effort to get Heyes to respond was Kenny—again. He walked into the cell casually shuffling through a small stack of letters. Heyes glanced over to see who was invading on his space and then with an inward snarl at the sight of one of his many betrayers turned his head to the wall again.

"Looks like you've got some mail Heyes." Kenny announced rather casually. "Let's see—there's a few here from the orphans, all of them hoping you'll get better soon. I don't think Sister Julia has had the heart to tell them that you're deliberately starving yourself to death."

_'You bastard! You think you're going to make me feel guilty? What do I care what they think!'_

"Ahh, let's see. There's one here from your friend Dr. Gibson." Kenny continued. "After all the effort he put in to save your life I would think that you might want to respond to him. No? Oh well. Then there's one here from Mrs. Granger. She's Miss Jordan's sister isn't she? She seems genuinely concerned about you."

_'Yes Kenny—I know you read all my mail. Why don't you just bore me to death and read the whole letter to me since you already know what they say? Or better yet—GO AWAY! And while you're at it—burn the damn letters! I don't want to hear from anybody!'_

Kenny had hesitated in his announcements and sent a quietly speculative look over to the inmate. Then he casually pulled out another letter from the pile and was very deliberate in his acknowledgement of this one.

"Here's one I really think you should read Heyes." He suggested. "It's from Topeka, Kansas. A Mrs Abigail Stewart."

He paused heavily at this point and eyed the convict, looking for any reaction at all. He tried not to let disappointment creep into his expression and hoped that the very slight tensing of the other man's shoulders wasn't just his imagination. Even though he wasn't sure about it, Kenny was right in reading Heyes' body language; the sound of that name had caused Heyes' heart to skip a beat, and though he regained control almost instantly, he was listening to Kenny's words with a little bit more interest now.

"You always seemed to appreciate her letters in the past Heyes." Kenny continued. "And I believe that this one could be of particular interest to you."

But then Heyes' brief spark of interest was once again covered over by hostility and the barriers went up once more.

_'Why would I want to read a letter from her!? She doesn't want me in her life! She doesn't want me in our daughter's life—I know that for certain now! Kid probably put her up to this—just play along Abi! Pretend you care! She's just another one who I can add to that list of betrayers. Another conspirator joining forces to prevent me from doing what I want to do._

_'What makes you think that what you have here is so much better!? Hug!? Nobody seems to be able to explain that! Nobody seems to be able to tell me why! All anybody ever says is ;You can't do this Heyes! This isn't right Heyes! Think of all the people you'd be hurting Heyes! Nobody's thinking about how I'm hurting! Nobody's thinking about what I want! So who's being selfish here!?_

_'GODDAMMIT! GO AWAY! Just go away.'_

Kenny put the letters on the table and then stood for a moment with his arms crossed, contemplating the prisoner. He was getting close to the end of his rope on this one and quickly running out of options. Though Dr. Miller and Sister Julia had been somewhat successful in their efforts to force soup down the inmate's throat, it was hardly enough nutrition to sustain the man.

Already weakened by his near death experiences since the breakout, his refusal to eat was definitely taking its toll and he was looking painfully sallow and gaunt. Kenny was rightfully concerned that if they didn't find a way to break through the barriers soon then Heyes was going to accomplish his end later rather than sooner, but still accomplish it none the less.

Half an hour later Kenny returned to the cell and Heyes was determined to ignore him. He kept his head turned to the wall and even though his curiosity had been aroused by the odd sounds that he was hearing, he was stubbornly refusing to be drawn out.

Then he heard the cell door close and Heyes was alone again. He cautiously looked around but what he saw only added to his consternation rather than relieve it. Kenny had placed a box that measured about 18x12 inches around and six inches high and inside the box was a layer of dirt. Heyes frowned.

_'What's he up to now? An indoor vegetable garden? Yeah right! Give the boy something to do—a project! That'll get him out of his slump! What a bunch of morons!'_

Then Heyes heard the cell door opening again and was just about to turn away when something caused him to pause and take a closer look. For an instant nothing happened, and then a small cat was dumped somewhat unceremoniously onto the floor just inside the door. The fickle feline, though very petite in stature landed with a loud 'thump—thump!' and then just stood there, flicking her tail with indignation. She sent a look back up at the human who had dropped her (probably Kenny) and voiced her opinion in a rather loud 'eeaaah!' and then took a couple of quick hops forward as the cell door closed on her butt.

_'A cat!? I don't even like cats! What does Kenny think he's doing, putting that damn thing in here? Maybe he thinks I'll get so pissed off with it that I'll kill the damn thing and eat it! Yeah right! Here I am shackled hand and foot to this bloody cot—how am I suppose to do that!? What's this thing supposed to eat anyways!? Don't go thinking I'm going to feed it. Bloody cat! What does he think he's doing!?'_

Heyes frowned and glared over at the feline but the feline was totally ignoring him. She stood and flicked her tail a couple of more times and then casually strolled over to the box with dirt in it. She sniffed the air in that general direction and then with minimal effort she hopped over the rim and began to intently scrape the dirt around. She did this for some time; walking around in a circle, pawing at the dirt, kicking it about and spraying it all over the cell floor. She seemed oblivious to the mess that she might be making and continued to circle and paw and dig until she finally became satisfied and then she nestled herself in and squatted.

Heyes sent a rather disgusted look over to her but she continued to ignore him as she sat with her ears slanted backwards and a very focused expression upon her face until she was done her business. Then she stood up and again began to circle and paw and dig and spread dirt around everywhere inside the box and out until such time as she was satisfied that it was a job well done.

Then she daintily hopped out of the box and onto the floor again. She had done her duty in marking this cell as her territory for now and then went about the business of scoping it out. She casually moved about, sniffing in all the corners, moving in and around the books and letters, walking under the cot and around the table legs and making a point of rubbing her scent on every piece of furniture in the small inclosure.

Having accomplished all of this, she then went and sat down beside her box and began to go through the methodical process of cleaning her coat. For the next fifteen minutes she purred and licked and made sure that every square inch of her body got the attention it so rightly deserved, and the whole while she never once looked up at the inmate.

Heyes on the other hand, was intently watching her. She was a small cat, he noted—nothing like the half wild ones they'd had running around Devil's Hole. Those cats had been feral to say the least but they had done a decent job of keeping the rat population down so they had been accepted as part of the gang. But this little thing? What could she possibly be good for?

She was a plain, unspectacular grey tabby cat with no white markings on her what-so-ever, just a little bit of fawning on her belly and around her whiskers. She was very short haired which probably accentuated her petitness although her dainty little paws made that clear enough. She was young, though appeared to be full grown even though Heyes surmised that she couldn't be much bigger than some of the rats he'd seen around the place. So again; what could she possibly be good for?

He came back out of his musings to suddenly find a pair of discerning and very intelligent green eyes contemplating him and apparently waiting for him to acknowledge her. They stared at each other for a moment, contemplating the next move and then the feline, already having established that this was her cell, decided to take the initiative. She opened her mouth and a rather inquisitive 'ack' emanated from it. Then she trotted the short distance over to the cot and hopped up onto it and stepped delicately onto the inmate's stomach.

Heyes frowned. He wasn't sure he liked this liberty being taken upon his person and he contemplated giving a quick twist in order to dump the cat back onto the floor. Before he could make up his mind to do this however, the small cat took another liberty and walked up towards his face and sniffed his nose. Heyes grimaced; the whiskers tickling him. He opened his eyes again and found himself gazing into those intense green orbs and then she stepped forward once more to sniff his eyelids and nearly choking him when she placed the weight of her one paw onto his jugular.

Fortunately she backed off again and sniffing his chin and then his throat, she turned her tail to him and began to rub her whiskers upon his shackled hands. Having satisfied herself with her scent application there she continued on until she was about half way down and then she caused Heyes to feel somewhat violated when she paused again to sniff his privates. But this was just her way of saying; 'Are you a guy or a gal? Oh! You're a guy! I'm a gal—howdy-doo!' Hmm, Heyes was not impressed.

She continued on down to sniff his feet and then began to rub her whiskers and the side of her face along his shoes and then to nibble on the laces. She then began to purr and rubbed the whole length of her body against his shoes and then casually made her way back up to his hands. Once there her purring intensified and she began to rub her whole face against his wrists and the shackles. She sniffed the shackles and the chain attaching them to the belt and then started to rub in earnest. She tumbled all over herself as she purred and drooled and rubbed the length of her body against his hands, her eyes closed to slits and a feline smile upon her face.

Heyes just continued to lay there wondering what in the world this cat was doing! Most of his experience with felines was either tripping over them, or throwing something at them in order to prevent them from stealing food. There were plenty of rats in the barn for goodness sakes! Go get your own dinner! Cats weren't allowed in the house—let alone on the bed! So this was an entirely new and confusing experience for the inmate. Just what exactly was he supposed to do with this?

While Heyes was busy contemplating this dilemma the feline had expertly forced her nose under one of his hands. Then she casually pushed her whole head under there as well so that before Heyes even realized what he was doing he had begun to stroke her soft coat. Then he was absently scratching her ears while at the same time continued to wonder just what in the world he was expected to do with this, it never occurring to him that he was already doing it.

The cat remained where she was for about ten minutes, thoroughly enjoying the ear rub and putting all of her weight into her nudging and prodding in order to get the most out of it. Once satisfied with that she then stood up and approached his face again and began in earnest to rub her cheeks and whiskers against his nose. Heyes grimaced and screwed up his eyes and mouth while she purred and drooled and continued to claim ownership of her new pet project.

Finally she completed that part of the take over and then started sniffing his chest and stomach before she settled in to needling his tunic which was fortunately a heavy enough material that her small sharp claws didn't penetrate right through. She circled a couple of times and then curled herself into a ball and still purring with contentment decided that it was time to fall asleep. Heyes sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

For some reason that Heyes didn't bother to question, he never even thought to simply dump the cat back onto the floor. He lay there for some time, feeling the warmth of the cat's body seeping through his tunic bringing with it the calming vibration of her purring and the reassuring rhythm of her breathing. After a little time Heyes felt his own eyelids begin to feel heavy and before he knew it, and without the help of the doctor's sedative, he also drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up again it was dark in the cell and the prison was quiet. The cat was gone, probably having slipped through the bars of the cell door and gone off to do whatever cats do at night. Heyes wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved, but what he was sure about was the lowering temperature; he was cold.

He also had to pee. Hmm, this could be awkward. Usually one of the guards came by throughout the day and evening to unshackle his hands so that he could tend to that business but since he had been asleep, whoever had checked on him right before lock down had apparently decided not to disturb him.

Now he had a dilemma.

He stood up but found that he couldn't even pull his own pants down with his hands shackled the way they were, and even if he had been able to, he couldn't reach the chamber pot. This could be embarrassing—he really had to go! He stood there looking out into the dimly lite walkway and listened intently for any sound of the night guard. In the past, when he had been trying to sleep but couldn't it seemed that the guard was always strolling by on patrol but now that he desperately needed him to show up, it seemed an eternity.

He was just on the edge of calling out and risking even more punishment when he finally saw the night shadows sway and shift with the coming of the guard's lantern. Oh finally! Heyes got as close to the door as his chain would allow and waited until he saw the shadow of the guard approaching and then took the chance that the man would be understanding.

"Hello." He whispered.

The swaying shadows stopped and the outline of the guard turned towards his cell.

"Jeez Heyes." Came the guard's whispered voice. "Ya' don't talk for days and then when ya' do, you're outa line. That's typical."

Heyes' heart sank just a bit. It was Thompson. He had been hoping it would be Davis, but you just never knew who was going to be on night shift. Heyes chose to ignore the sarcastic remark.

"I gotta go." Heyes' whisper had a touch of urgency to it.

"So you've been implying." Thompson pointed out. "But you ain't goin' anywhere, so settle down."

"No—I mean, I gotta pee." Heyes redefined. "Help me out, will ya'?"

"Oh." Came the caustic response. "Okay, just back off the door."

Heyes backed off to stand closer to his table and Thompson unlocked the door and pulled it open. He stepped inside the cell and with a cautionary look at the prisoner he dragged the chamber pot out from under the table and placed it in reach of Heyes' aim. Heyes looked at him rather skeptically and tried to hide his total disdain for this particular guard. He was on a mission after all.

"Well, unless you're going to pull down my trousers and hold my dick for me, I'm gonna need ya' to unlock the cuffs." He pointed out rather sardonically. "Ya' know what I mean?"

"Well then you're just gonna havta hang tight." Thompson informed him. "Cause I don't have the keys with me."

Heyes groaned. Thompson exited the cell and closed the door behind him. "I'll be right back." He announced and then disappeared into the darkness. Heyes stood there with clenched jaw and crossed legs and waited for the guard to return. He was just beginning to think that he wasn't going to make it and that there was going to be a mess on the floor of his cell when he finally saw the swaying shadow of the lantern coming into sight again. Oh thank goodness!

Thompson unlocked the cell door and coming in he placed the lantern down on the cot and then proceeded to unlock Heyes' hands from the cuffs. Heyes didn't hesitate. As soon as he felt his hands free he pushed down his trousers, grabbed hold of his weapon, aimed and fired. OH! The relief! He couldn't think of anything else other than the steadily decreasing pressure on his bladder! Nothing could have ever felt that good. Finally!

When he was done, he sighed gratefully and tucked himself away. Then, quick as a blink Thompson was manoeuvring his hands into the cuffs again and had snapped them into place. Heyes frowned; he didn't see why he had to be shackled hand and foot, after all what could he get up to in his own cell?

But then he shrugged with the inevitable and reaching down as best he could he pulled up the blanket from his cot and sent Thompson an enquiring look.

"Yeah, yeah." Thompson nodded. "Lay down—I'll cover ya' up."

Heyes smiled and got himself settled onto the cot again. Thompson draped the blanket over top of him and the inmate settled in to try and get some sleep. The guard picked up his lantern and exited the cell in order to continue on with his rounds. Heyes, feeling much more relieved and warmer than he had just shortly before settled in and with a deep, almost contented sigh drifted off to sleep away the rest of the night.

A few hours later Heyes slowly began to rise up from his slumber. He gradually became aware of those things that were a part of his outer world while his inner dream world drifted away. One of the things that followed him from his dream state up into his conscious state was the round patch of warmth that was laying upon his chest.

He wasn't quite sure what that was, but he felt nice and cozy so he didn't really worry about it too much. He shifted a little bit and moaned as sleep began to dissipate and wakefulness took over his realm. He frowned. The warm circle on his chest started to vibrate and he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Finally he gave in and opened his eyes.

The cat was back. She was laying on her chest on his torso, facing him. Her dainty paws were curled in towards one another and then tucked in under her chest as she rested there and contemplated her human. Her bright green eyes were closed to slits but her whiskers were pushed forward in a definite feline smile as she waited for her project to acknowledge her.

Heyes lay there and stared at her and she squinted and smiled back at him. Her purring increased until it was an all out rumble and she continued to wait for him to come to his senses and appreciate her and the gift that she had brought for him. When you take on the responsibility of a pet you need to take care of him after all.

Heyes woke up further and yawned. He knew that the alarm klaxon hadn't gone off yet so nobody was up and about. Indeed the prison was quiet and still wrapped in semi-darkness and Heyes tried to settle in and go back to sleep for whatever time was left of the night. Unfortunately someone's purring insisted on keeping him awake.

As Heyes lay on his cot waiting for the morning klaxon he felt his on-going depression begin to wrap itself around him again. The cat had been an unexpected diversion but now he wished that it would just go away. He intentionally kept his eyes closed so that he would not have to acknowledge the feline whom he knew was still perched on his stomach, settled comfortable between his cuffed arms. He was hoping that she would just get bored and go off to do cat things and not being too familiar with feline nature he didn't realize how patient one could be.

Finally the morning klaxon sounded and he knew that he could no long fringe sleep. He sighed and squinted open one eye and the purring instantly began again. He groaned. Why had this damn cat latched onto him? Why wouldn't she just go away? She continued to lay on his chest, purring loudly and apparently expecting some response from him. He opened both eyes and glared at her and she continued to smile sweetly back at him. Then he noticed something else that had been placed neatly on his tunic between them.

He looked closer and then grimaced and groaned with disgust. It was a dead mouse. Oh yuk! It had obviously been laying there for some time and the blood from its ripped open belly and exposed guts had spread out and dried upon the material of his tunic.

There was no hesitation this time and he sharply twisted his torso to the side and unceremoniously dumped the cat onto the floor. The feline landed with a loud thump-thump and with an indignant 'ack!' glared back at him and sent him a couple of flicks of her tail. The cell door opened and the cat instantly trotted out between the guard's feet in order to go nurse her wounded pride somewhere private, this was quite the insult after all!

Thompson watched her disappear down the isle way and then stuck his head into the cell to berate the prone inmate.

"C'mon Heyes! On your feet!" He ordered. "Just cause you're in 'solitary confinement' here doesn't mean ya' can...what the hell is that!?"

"It's a bloody dead mouse!" Heyes yelled in disgust. "Get the damn thing off me!"

Heyes had hoped that the dead rodent would get dumped to the floor along with the cat, but the dried blood was acting as a glue and it was well and truly stuck to his tunic. Heyes twisted and turned in an effort to dislodge the thing but all he accomplished was getting the corpse to dangle and swing from it's extended gut. Ohh, this was disgusting!

"Alright. Just—lie still!' Thompson ordered him. "I'll come back after the roll-call and get it off."

"No! Get it off...!"

"You talking outa line again Heyes?" Thompson snapped back at him.

The two men locked challenging glares for an instant, but then through force of habit, Heyes sighed and relented. There was no point in getting into a battle of wills over this and despite his dislike for this particular guard he let the man win and settled back to await release.

"That's better." Thompson mumbled as he began to move away."Looks like you're finally beginning to learn the damn rules. Only took four years..."

Heyes' lips tightened in irritation, but he lay back and glared up at the ceiling and forced himself to be patient.

Fifteen minutes later, after the other inmates had dispersed to the mess hall for breakfast, Thompson and Davis returned to Heyes' cell to assist him in his dilemma. Thompson had a rifle with him and stood just inside the cell door while Davis stepped forward and plunked a clean tunic onto the table and then unlocked Heyes' hands.

"Alright, sit up." He ordered the inmate.

Heyes did so, the mouse dropping and swinging from its gut. Davis snorted quietly in amusement and Heyes felt himself becoming even more irritated. He himself could not see the humour in this situation at all! Davis rolled up the offending tunic and then pulled the whole mess up and over Heyes' head and arms and then handed him the clean one.

"Put it on."

Heyes happily did so and then Davis re-cuffed his hands yet again.

"You gonna eat breakfast today?"

"No." Was Heyes sardonic reply. How could anyone even consider eating breakfast after that disgusting awakening? He felt nauseous, though if truth be known it was probably more the lack of food in his stomach than the bloody offering from the cat that was causing him to feel that way.

"Fine." Davis mumbled and then the two guards left the cell, taking the offending tunic with them.

Heyes sighed and lay back down on his cot again. He was getting tired of this game. Why couldn't they just take these shackles off of him? It's not like he could do anything locked in his cell. But then he remembered how he had been bashing himself up against the cell door in his rage at having his well laid plan diverted on him. He sighed. Why couldn't they just let him do what he needed to do? Why were they insisting on forcing him to stay here? He'd always been a thorn in the side of most of the guards here so why wouldn't they just let him leave?

"How's our pet prisoner doing today?" Came a familiar but hated voice from the vicinity of the cell door. "Still alive I see."

Heyes snarled over at Carson. "You bastard!" And he was on his feet in an instant and charged the guard, but he was brought up short by the chain attaching him to the cot. His legs were yanked out from beneath him and he clattered to the floor, bruising his elbows as he landed.

Carson hadn't even flinched and he stood there, laughing at the inmate while Heyes struggled to get back on his feet.

"Forgot you were chained up like a mad dog, did ya'?" The guard sneered at him, intentionally trying to provoke an aggressive response. "I always knew you were a bad egg, Heyes. Thanks for proving me right."

"You bastard!" Heyes repeated as he finally managed to get to his feet. His nose was bleeding. "You killed Doc—I know you did!"

Carson just laughed at him again. "Come off it Heyes. Morin told me himself before he bled to death that you're the one who knifed him. Now why would he lie about that?"

"He wouldn't!" Heyes snarled at him. "But you sure as hell would!"

"Yeah? Prove it!" Carson challenged him. "Don't worry Heyes—your execution has simply been postponed. You committed cold-blooded murder and you're gonna pay for it."

The two men glared at each other again and then Carson grinned before turning and continuing on down the isle way and out of Heyes' line of sight. Heyes continued to seethe, his self-righteous anger taking hold of him and causing him to start pacing in a circle until such time as Sister Julia, escorted by Pearson arrived at the door of his cell, carrying a bowl of oatmeal. Heyes groaned. Why couldn't these people just leave him alone?

"Oh! Joshua." She exclaimed. "Your nose is bleeding! What happened?"

_'Nothing.'_ He grumbled to himself, feeling even more dejected than he had the previous day._ 'Why don't you just go away—and stay away this time!'_

"Mr. Pearson, could you go and get something to clean him up with?" The Sister requested of the guard.

"No Sister, I'm sorry." Pearson answered her. "I can't leave you alone with him. I'll accompany you over to the infirmary if you like where you can get whatever supplies you need."

Julia smiled. "Yes, alright. That'll do." Then she absently set the bowl of oatmeal onto the small table and followed the guard out to run the errand.

Heyes signed. At least they were gone for awhile, but obviously they were going to be back. He looked disgustedly over at the oatmeal and then noticed again all the unopened letters still sitting there awaiting his attention. He pursed his lips and looked away. Why wouldn't these people just leave him alone!

Then he groaned—the cat was back! Apparently she had gotten over her tiff and she came trotting back into the cell with her tail up and a welcoming expression in her green eyes. Heyes' expression was anything but welcoming but she ignored it. Without hesitating she gave a quiet 'murr' in greeting and hopped up onto his lap.

Heyes sighed in resignation as she began to purr and rub her face against his chin. Then she left his lap and walked around him on the cot, rubbing along his back and his arms and then coming into his lap again she reached up and touched noses before he had a chance to pull away from her. She seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

Then her nose started to twitch as she picked up the scent of the oatmeal and without much ado she jumped over onto the table and began to help herself to breakfast. Heyes sighed again. If there had been any chance at all before of him eating anything, it was now a definite 'not gonna happen'!

So the cat continued to lap up her fill of the oatmeal and then when she was done she hopped down to the floor and went to her box of dirt to do her business and re-establish her territory. That done she settled herself onto the floor at Heyes' feet and set about her daily grooming, purring the whole time and completely ignoring the cold shoulder she was receiving from her pet project.

Sister Julia returned then with a small basin of water and a clean cloth and promptly shooed the cat away. Hmm, Heyes thought to himself; one gone, one to go.

The following afternoon Kenny presented himself at the door of Heyes' cell and proceeded to unlock the chain that was attaching the inmate to the cot. Heyes was trying hard not to let his curiosity get the better of hm and he just continued to stare at the wall while Kenny brought the end of the chain up and attached it to the belt around Heyes' waist.

"C'mon Heyes, on your feet." Kenny ordered him. "You have a visitor."

Heyes allowed himself to be pulled up off the cot and then shuffled out into the isle way. He didn't look around him at all, didn't pay any attention to anything or anybody and just simply allowed himself to be led off towards the visitor's room. Getting down the stairs with his feet shackled was a bit of a challenge, but with Kenny assisting him, he was able to hop down them without breaking his neck and they continued on.

Heyes' curiosity was quickly turning to anger and resentment. Kenny wasn't just escorting him to the visitor's room, but had stopped to pick up a rifle and was showing all intent of being the guard in residence during the upcoming visit. This was odd. Kenny had never been present during a visit before, that duty usually falling to one of the lesser guards. Why was Kenny stooping down to perform this lowly duty now?

Heyes' anger grew and his jaw tightened with the resentment. 'This is a conspiracy.' He thought to himself. 'This is something cooked up between Kenny and Jed, that's what this is! The two of them have joined forces and are going to start bombarding me with guilt trips—try to get me to do their bidding!

'Damn that Curry! I told him to stay away from me! Jeez—give him a chance to start thinking for himself and he doesn't even know how to listen anymore! I told him not to come back and now here he is, back again! And he and Kenny have joined forces against me! Damn them to hell! Well, I'll show them! I won't break—I won't give in to them! They'll see! Those traitors! They'll see!'

Heyes continued to fume and rage to himself as Kenny got him settled into the chair in the visitor room and then took up his place behind the inmate with his rifle at ease across the nook in his arm. The outer door began to open and Heyes sat up straighter, his mouth set in a hard line. He was ready—he was going to let Kid have it! If Jed was going to ignore what he wanted then he was going to pay the price for his insolence, for his arrogance! Heyes was gonna let him have it good.

Then the visitor stepped into the room and softly closed the door behind him. He turned and looked Heyes straight in the eye and all of Heyes' blustering and self-righteous anger deflated out of him and then shameful fear took hold of his heart and he broke eye contact and looked down at his hands.

It wasn't Jed who stood before him. It was Jesse.

Jesse stood quietly at the door for a moment, looking at his friend and doing a very good job of hiding his shock and dismay. He could not believe the wreck of a man who sat before him. No matter what Jed had told him, how much he had warned him, Jesse would never have been prepared for the physical and apparently, emotional degradation of his once strong and confident friend.

Jesse sighed and glanced over at Kenny and the guard nodded and sent him a slight smile. Jesse nodded back and then pulled out the chair closest to him and sat down, facing the inmate. Heyes was still looking down at his hands, he couldn't bring himself to lift his gaze and look his benefactor in the eye.

"Jed tells me that you've given up on us." Jesse quietly stated.

Heyes looked up sharply, that accusation taking him by surprise. His mouth opened to answer, but nothing came out so he closed it and looked back down at his hands again. Silence continued for a few moments until Jesse broke it again.

"We haven't given up on you Hannibal. Why have you given up on us?"

"I just..." Heyes' voice sounded shaky and strained even to himself. He coughed and shifted uncomfortably. "I just didn't think it would be this hard." His voice was no more than a whisper; he felt like he was going to start crying but he wasn't about to let that happen.

Jesse nodded. "It has been hard." He agreed. "On all of us. But you made me a promise Hannibal, and I expect to you live up to it."

Heyes sat silently, looking down. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed that he had let this man down, that he had disappointed him.

"I just..." Heyes began again and then took a deep almost shuddering sigh. "I didn't think it would be this hard. I...I shouldn't have made that promise Jesse. I didn't think it would be this hard."

Kenny stood silently against the back wall. He found himself feeling true sympathy for the inmate, listening to his heart wrenching admittance to failure. He hadn't been prepared for the raw emotion radiating from the man seated in front of him and he was finding it extremely difficult to witness. His admiration and respect for the visitor grew immensely as Jesse did not waver in his mission, despite the inmate's obvious pain and disillusionment.

"That's why we make promises." Jesse gently pointed out. "So that when it gets tough to stay true to the course we have something to hold on to; an obligation to other people who expect us to stay true to our word. I made a promise to you as well, if you remember."

"It's different for you." Heyes tried to defend himself. "You're stronger than I am Jesse. I've known that ever since I first met you—you're a stronger man than I am."

"That's nonsense." Jesse countered. "You have strength in you that you don't even know about yet. I told you before Hannibal; you're a strong man. You can be anything you want to be. You can survive anything you put your mind to. I'm no stronger than you are."

Heyes snorted sceptically. Then silence again. Jesse looked at his friend and could see his desperation; he was looking so hard for something to hold on to, but he had given up any hope of ever finding it.

"As I said; I had also made a promise to you." Jesse repeated.

Heyes nodded. "And you've stayed true to it. I know you have."

"Yes." Jesse agreed. "But I lost faith, I came very close to giving up on you."

Heyes felt a shiver of disappointed fear run through him. There it was again, this desire to please this man who sat before him, to make this man proud of him. The knowledge that Jesse had been so disillusioned that he had been ready to give up on him was like a dagger through his heart. Heyes swallowed and felt like he was going to throw up except that there was nothing in his stomach to assist him with that.

"It was right after your trial." Jesse quietly continued. "All the things that had come to light at that time about what a good con man you were. That you were considered a top contender in that game of manipulation and deception and I couldn't help but wonder if you hadn't simply duped me into thinking that you were an honourable man. That you had tricked me into promising my support, my friendship to a scoundrel."

Heyes slumped even deeper into his chair, the wound in his heart growing with every word that Jesse spoke.

"But then it took my wife and my daughter to show me the way." Jesse continued. "To give me the strength to stand by my convictions and to trust my own instincts."

Heyes looked up then, his eyes asking the question.

Jesse smiled and nodded. "Belle never lost faith in you and your desire to turn your life around. And Bridget! Even after everything she had heard at your trial, as soon as she saw you in distress she was right there for you. She defied my instructions to her and ignored the rules of the jailhouse in order to be there for you, to offer you friendship and support when you needed it the most." Jesse stopped and looked Heyes in the eye. "It took those two ladies to show me how weak I was. I'm not as strong as you think I am. It's my family and my friends who make me strong, who keep me true to the course.

"You need to look to the same support Hannibal. You need to look to your friends and to your family to give you the strength to see your way through this. Don't turn your back on us; we're still here, fighting for your freedom, fighting for your life. You can't give up on us Hannibal. You don't really want to die."

"Yes, I do." Heyes insisted. "You people just won't let me."

"No, you don't want to die." Jesse repeated. "You've just lost all desire to go on living."

Heyes shrugged his shoulders and sent Jesse a questioning look.

"There is a difference." Jesse insisted. "If you really wanted to die you would not have waited to tell Jed that you were going to do it."

"I told him because I didn't want him to feel guilty." Heyes insisted. "So that he could get on with his life and not carry that guilt around with him. That's why I waited."

"Pardon my language, but that's b***sh*t. And don't tell Belle I said that." Jesse commented. "You know just as well as anybody else—better even; that if you took your own life you would be destroying Jed along with yourself. He would never have recovered from it, he would have carried that with him for the rest of his life—and you know it!"

Heyes again looked away, unable to meet this man's gaze. This conversation was making him feel very uncomfortable.

"You know darn well that if you told Jed that you were planning on ending your life then he would do everything in his power to stop you." Jesse insisted. "You told him that because you were desperate for a way out of doing it—you were desperate for help. And Jed didn't let you down did he? He did what he had to do, didn't he? He did exactly what you knew he would do."

At this point, Jesse sent a quick glance over to Kenny who gave a subtle smile and nodded.

Heyes continued to look at the floor. He started to retreat again, this was more than he could handle.

_'You don't know what you're talking about.'_ He mumbled to himself._ 'You're just making this up as you go along.'_

"You can deny it all you want to." Jesse said as though he could hear what Heyes was thinking. "But I know darn well that if you truly wanted to end your life you would not have given any warning. You would simply have done it."

Heyes became sulky. He didn't like anybody, even Jesse second guessing him and the fact that Jesse might be closer to the truth than Heyes would like to admit didn't make him feel any better.

"I just..." Heyes began again, rather lamely. "I just don't think I can hang on in here any longer. There is no other way out."

"Yes there is." Jesse countered. "I told you before, I meant it then and I mean it now; You're a strong man Hannibal, all you have to do is tell yourself that you're going to make it through this and you will. It's as simple as that."

_'It's not as simple as that! You have no idea what it's like living in here! These are all just words—all just attempts to make me feel guilty You don't know what you're talking about.'_

Jesse saw the wall come down in Heyes' eyes and knew that trying to continue on with this argument wasn't going to do either of them any good. He had said his piece and now all he could do was hope that the words would gradually sink in and take hold. He watched his friend for a few more minutes but Heyes refused to look up and meet his gaze. Jesse nodded quietly to himself and stood up. He nodded over to Kenny.

"Thank you Officer Reece." He said. "That's all I have to say."

Kenny acknowledged him and then with one more quiet look to his friend, Jesse left the visitor's room and made his way home, hoping and praying that what he'd had to say might just make that little bit of difference to matter.

As Kenny escorted Heyes back to his cell, he noticed a very subtle change in the inmate's demeanour. He was quiet and sullen, which in itself was not unusual these days, but there was something else there too. The seething anger had been replaced by a thoughtfulness, resented at first, but taking hold and growing deeper with every step they took.

When they finally arrived back at Heyes' cell, the cat was curled up and asleep on the cot but she woke up as the two men entered the tiny room. She stretched and smiled at her project as he shuffled over to the cot and sat down in preparation for Kenny to chain him to the frame again. Her purring took over the cell as she stepped daintily onto his lap and began to need and drool. Heyes sighed and started to absently stroke her as best he could with his hands shackled the way they were. She didn't mind, she just leaned into position herself in order to make it easier for him.

Kenny stood up from attaching the chain to the cot and smiled down at the cat consoling the inmate.

"You two seem to be getting along quite well." He commented.

"Hmm. She's alright—for a cat." Heyes responded before he remembered that he wasn't talking to the guards. Then he totally forgot himself and asked a rather personal question. "What's her name?"

Kenny gave a quiet laugh. "Well we don't usually bother to name the cats here—there's so many of them." He informed him. "But right from the get go this one showed a definite talent for catching mice. She's too small to be a good ratter, but mice—yeah, the prison has never had a better one. Every morning she leaves a large pile of them in the middle of the mess hall floor just to show us all what a good job she's doing. Soooo...a couple of the trustees started referring to her as The Mouser, then it got shortened to The Mouse and now, well it's just Mouse."

Heyes nodded his understanding and continued to pat the purring, drooling feline.

"Then, a couple of months ago she started displaying another talent." Kenny continued. "She seems to have a natural affinity towards people in trouble. She'll pick up on something about them and decide that she's going to take them under her wing—so to speak and help to bring them back up from their despair. I tell ya' once she decides that you're worth the effort she doesn't give up either! So you may as well give up trying to shoo her away cause it's just not gonna happen."

"Yeah, I noticed." Heyes mumbled as he continued to stroke the small cat. Mouse in the meantime was leaning into his shackled hands and rubbing her whiskers against them before flipping over onto her back and practically demanding a belly rub.

"Do you want some lunch?" Kenny asked him.

"No."

"Well, how about I bring you a bowl of stew anyways." The guard suggested. "The Sister couldn't make it in today so it really is going to be up to you whether you eat it or not. Though Doc Miller might have a thing or two to say if you don't eat supper."

Heyes didn't respond but simply stared into the middle distance while he continued to rub the cat.

Two hours later Heyes was still seated in the same position in the middle of his cot. Kenny had returned with the bowl of stew and then left Heyes to figure out for himself how to get the spoon from the bowl to his mouth with his hands left shackled. Kenny knew he could do it if he really wanted to and perhaps the challenge would give him something to strive for.

Unfortunately Heyes just sat and stared and left the bowl of stew untouched. Mouse didn't mind though, because as soon as she got a whiff of the tantalizing aroma she gave up on the message and hopped up onto the table to help herself to some lunch. He was vaguely aware that the cat was stealing his food, but he had too many other things on his mind to be incensed by it and he was being stubborn about not wanting it anyways.

Finally Mouse had lapped up her fill and had then returned to the middle of the cot, prodded and needled the blanket until it was to her satisfaction and then curled up into a ball and purred herself back to sleep. Heyes continued to sit and stare at nothing.

Then he gave a deep sigh and his eyes came back into focus. He glanced over at the bowl of stew and considered it for a few moments. Finally he shuffled over to it and picked it up. He sat back down on the cot and leaned into the bowl and took a deep sniff of the meat and potatoes and gravy. He grimaced slightly, not quite sure if he wanted to eat or not and also vaguely aware that the cat had already helped herself to a large portion of it herself and he wasn't too sure if he wanted to be eating the cat's left-overs.

Still, he picked up the spoon and awkwardly raised a small portion of the stew to his mouth. But as soon as the aroma of the meat reached his nose he stated to gag and he quickly replaced the spoon into the bowl and manoeuvred himself to put the food back up onto his table. He felt nauseous. Then he berated himself for being so weak. He had decided that he wasn't going to eat—not unless they forced it down his throat, so what was he doing even considering the option!

He sat for a moment, breathing heavily and trying to calm his stomach when his eyes fell upon the stack of letters that had been sitting there now for over a week. He sat back down and continued to stare at them as though it were the first time he'd been aware of them.

Once more he stood up and grabbing hold of the sheets of paper, he sat back down and began to shuffle through them until he came to one in particular. Once he found the one he was looking for he absently allowed the others to slide to the floor while he focused his attention completely onto this one. He sat for a moment and ran his fingers gently over the hand writing that he knew so well and he felt both fear and anticipation at opening this letter.

He was afraid of it, afraid of what words she would have to say to him. He knew how sharp her tongue could be a times and he just didn't feel up to dealing with a reprimand. It was just so much easier to stay inside his self-made world of exile and destruction and he was afraid that she might present him with an undeniable reason to keep on holding on.

But finally curiosity got the best of him and he pulled open the re-sealed envelope and slid out the folded pages of her letter. Then to his surprise another oblong piece of paper slid out from the sheets and fluttered heavily to the floor. Heyes sat and stared at it for a moment, almost afraid to pick it up. It was a photograph, he knew that, but it had fallen face down and he found himself hesitant to turn it over to see the image.

But again, curiosity finally won out and he slid down to his knees and leaning over he awkwardly picked up the card stock and then pushed himself back up onto the cot again. With a knot in his throat that he thought was going to choke him he flipped the photo over and his heart nearly broke in two when he saw his own dimples smiling back at him.

He gently caressed his thumb over her soft face and along her thick, dark hair. He stared into a pair of smouldering dark orbs that he knew without a doubt were the same rich chocolate brown as his own and he felt such an overwhelming rush of paternal pride that he was sure it was going to choke him. He couldn't take his eyes off of her image.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're so beautiful." He whispered. "You're so beautiful—my daughter."

Finally he pulled his eyes away from the image and unfolded the pages of the letter that had been sent by her mother. He began to read.

_My Dear Mr. Heyes,_

_What a terrible time you have been having recently. Tragedy piled upon misfortune. What can I say or do to make this better for you?_  
_I am doing everything I can to help you, just as your many loyal friends continue to do. It may seem as though we are not making progress, but we have managed to get them to consider parole after ten years. We see that as one of our small victories on the road, not the destination. We fight on._

_I know you are a deep thinker, and that is a curse as much as a gift. It is too easy to dwell on the darkness and infamy until they plague us. We can miss the light shining in the distance. To that end I have enclosed a photograph of Anya Rebecca Stewart._

_She is known formally as Rebecca or Becky Stewart, but only those intimate to her get to call her Anya. It is my treasured pet name, used only by those closest to her and she loves it. The name is never used to scold or reprimand her; it's the name used to bring her comfort and love. I hope it brings the same to you._

_She has my big mouth, sadly, but her father's eyes _(Heyes couldn't help but smile at this; another talker in the family. Well, he reasoned, she comes by it honestly)._ Her colouring is very dark, just like most of my father's family, but none of my side have ever had dimples._

_She is so very clever, inquisitive and quick. I do wonder what she will make of a world which tries to constrain her and box off her options. She is not good at taking, 'no,' for an answer; as her school recently found out when they told her that little girls should not be progressed to more complex arithmetic, because they will only get married and have no use of an advanced education. I had to intercede with the headmaster, as Anya pointed out (quite rightly in my opinion) that the woman who had told her this was 'really old' and hadn't got married. Where do you think she gets all that from? Where indeed? (Oh oh, trouble brewing there!)_

_The teacher in question is about forty-five. Whilst I agreed that Anya should not have described her as old, I had to support the pure logic and the ideological basis of her stance. Thank goodness I am used to living in a world of tutting and raised eyebrows. Whoever heard of a school restricting access to education? I simply won't stand for it. I wonder what she'll grow into?_

_Anyway, back to you. We have a saying in Scotland,' Triùir a thig gun iarraidh – gaol, eud is eagal.' It means that three come unbidden – love, jealousy and fear. You have experienced far too much of the latter, but remember that love can also find a way to creep through those dark cracks and provide chinks of light. It is there. Dwell on that, apply your mind to something positive and try to make sure that this dreadful time does not become who you are. You are better than this. You have a good mind and a strong spirit which can carry you through to the future._

_I do hope I have managed to raise your spirits a little. I will think of you again tonight as I promised. (Heyes groaned on reading this; he had forgotten all about sending out evening wishes to Abi every night. Life had just become so complicated lately. He was going to have to change that)._

_Try to stay strong, mo ghràidh. Think of the future. Dwell on the life you will build and in that way, I'm sure you can persevere and endure._

_Abigail_

Heyes read the letter over numerous times until he practically had it secured in his memory, just as he had done with her other letters. Then he lay it onto his lap and picked up the photo of his daughter again. He just couldn't get over her. She was smiling at him as though she knew that he was gazing upon her and needed so much for her to love him—and to forgive him. And he sat and he stared into her eyes for an eternity.

Kenny strolled by the cell just to do a quick check on the inmate but then stopped and stepped quietly inside the doorway to get a closer look at what Heyes was doing. It didn't take him long to see what Heyes was looking at and he smiled and waited patiently for the inmate to acknowledge him.

Heyes was vaguely aware of Kenny standing there but he was too absorbed into the photograph to pay him much mind. He kept stroking the image with his thumb as though by doing so he was actually having some physical contact with the child herself, as though she would then know him and know who and what he was. Suddenly he felt that rush again of paternal pride wash over him and this time he thought for sure that he was going to be sick.

He managed to keep himself under control however and finally he sighed deeply and though still staring at the photo he spoke quietly to the man standing before him.

"Do you remember when we were out on our little hike and you asked me if I had any children?"

Kenny nodded, feeling a slight thrill of hope sweep through him; Heyes was talking, calmly, reasonably—lovingly. Maybe, maybe they'd finally broken through.

"Yeah." Kenny answered. "Your response was rather non-committal. I recall you saying something about the life of an outlaw not being conducive to raising a family."

Heyes smiled sadly and nodded. Then, still not looking up at the guard he motioned for him to take the photo he held. Kenny had of course already seen the picture when he had gone through Heyes' mail. At that time he couldn't help but notice the familial likeness between the child in the photograph and the inmate sitting before him but he knew a genuine peace offering when he saw it. The guard stepped forward and took the photo.

"She's beautiful." He stated, as though this were the first time he had viewed it. "What's her name?"

"Anya Rebecca." Heyes answered him.

"Anya. That's pretty. It suits her."

Heyes nodded again. "It was my mother's name."

"And Rebecca?"

Heyes didn't answer right away and a great sadness clouded over his dark eyes. Kenny had a feeling that his caustic response to the guard's previous query into Heyes' family life was about to be expanded upon. He was not mistaken.

Heyes swallowed the knot in his throat. That pain in his heart, that incredible ache of loss and loneliness just wouldn't go away even after all these years.

"Anya would have had an older sister." Heyes finally forced out through his constricted throat. "She died while still an infant—because of me. A bullet meant for me, missed and hit her instead."

Kenny groaned. He and Sarah had been so lucky compared to others in their place and time; they had never had to bear the loss of any of their children. Kenny could not even imagine—didn't even want to try and imagine what that would like. Heyes sat, staring into nothing with his hands clutching the pages of Abi's letter.

"Her name had been Rebecca." He finally continued, then sighed deeply. "When our second daughter came along, well, Abi's younger sister who had also died young was named Rebecca so Abi wanted to keep the name in the family. So..."

Kenny nodded and then returned the photo to Heyes' shackled hands. "Do you see them often? Does your daughter know you?"

"No." Heyes admitted, and the pain and regret in that one word hit Kenny like a sledgehammer. "After what happened to Becky, Abi wouldn't let me stay and be a part of their lives. I was so angry with her for denying me that contact—I hated her for years. I refused to even mention her name. But I gradually came to understand why. Becky wasn't the first child that Abi had lost and she was terrified of losing a third, and she was right to be concerned. I understand that now."

"Yeah." Kenny agreed. "But from what I've read in her letters to you, it seems that she still cares a great deal about you. Why else would she give the child your mother's name? She obviously wants to keep that connection."

Heyes looked back down at the photograph of his daughter again. "Yeah, I suppose."

"It seems to me that you're holding in your hands a really good reason to carry on, Heyes." Kenny pointed out. "You may not know your daughter now but you don't know what the future holds. You get this part of your life behind you and you may come to discover that you have a valuable friend in her."

"That's kind of what Kid said." Heyes recalled. "That I don't have the right to deny Anya the opportunity of getting to know her father."

"He has a point." Kenny agreed. "You lost your parents at a young age, so you know what that's like. Just think of all the things you could be denying both of you."

Heyes creased his brow and sent the guard a very sceptical look. "Are you sure you haven't been comparing notes with my partner?"

Kenny gave a quiet laugh. "No, I haven't. But obviously he's a very wise man." Then he turned serious again. "I just know what it means to be a father. Sons are an honour to have, but daughters—hmm, daughters are a gift. And not one to be taken lightly. Don't you think she is worth hanging around for?"

Again Heyes sat silently for a few moments, looking at the photograph and softly, lovingly caressing the image upon it. "Yeah." He finally admitted quietly. "Yeah, I suppose she is."

Twenty minutes later Kenny was quickly walking into the kitchen and approached the trustees who were busy preparing chicken stew for dinner.

"Is the stew ready?" The guard asked the startled inmates. "HURRY UP! IS IT READY!?

"OH! Ahh, yessir." Answered the quicker of the two. "It's just simmering until it's time for supper."

"Good! Give me a bowl of it—and some bread!" Kenny ordered. "A pitcher of water and a drinking cup as well."

"But we shouldn't be serving supper until..."

"ARE YOU QUESTIONING A DIRECT ORDER!?" Kenny bellowed. He was in no mood for stupid questions.

"Oh! Nossir!" Came the quick denial from both trustees and they then scampered around to fulfil the order from the guard without any more adieu.

Once it was ready, Kenny put a spoon in the bowl of stew and plunked the bread on top of it, then he dropped the tin cup into the pitcher of water and laden down with the meal he turned and made a bee line back into the cell block.

He slowed down as he got closer to Heyes' cell so that by the time he turned in to the tiny room he appeared all calm and collected and sent the inmate a reassuring smile as he set all the dishes down on the small table. Heyes sent a startled look over to the food and wasn't quite sure how to respond. It wasn't suppertime.

Kenny turned away from the table and took out the key to the handcuffs.

"Think you want to eat something?" He asked casually.

"Oh." Was the hesitant response. "I donno. I'm not really hungry."

"How about you just give it a try." Kenny suggested as he unlocked Heyes' hands.

Then while Heyes sat and quietly contemplated the food, Mouse had been awakened from her afternoon nap by the tantalizing aroma and was not hesitating at all to take advantage of the offered meal. She hopped up onto the table and was just about to tuck in when her pet project grabbed her around her body and dumped her unceremoniously onto the floor.

She gave an indignant 'ahhhgg!' and glared up at the inmate while sending him a series of adamant tail flicks.

"No you don't!" Heyes told her. "Not this time!"

Then Heyes turned to the food on his table, and with his hands trembling as though he were reaching for the forbidden fruit, he took the bowl with the spoon and bread along with it and he contemplated the stew.

"Are you going to eat?" Kenny asked, trying not to reveal his anxiety.

Heyes looked up at him, his dark eyes filled with uncertainty. He looked back down at the bowl in his hands and then with shaking fingers, he clasped the spoon and dipped it into the savoury gravy and meat. He brought the spoon up and for the first time in over two weeks, he willingly put food into his own mouth. He slid the spoon out from between his lips and began to chew and then swallowed.

Kenny was watching him with a quiet intensity. "Well?" He asked. "How does it taste?"

Heyes nodded. "Surprisingly good." He admitted. Then he took another spoonful and sent it down after the first one.

He picked up the piece of bread and dunking it in the gravy, he took a bite of that and swallowed. Then another spoonful and he was barely chewing before he swallowed, then another spoonful...

"Whoa...whoa, show down." Kenny touched his arm to stop him. "You're going to make yourself sick. Here, drink some water." He poured out a cup and handed it to the now starving man. "Here...slowly! Don't gulp it. There, good. Eat, but slow down."

Heyes shovelled another spoonful into his mouth and then while he was chewing it he glanced down at a rather pathetic looking Mouse. She sat at his feet and stared up at him with her green eyes imploring him for a share of the tasty stew. Hadn't she been willing to share her mouse with him? Even with his now ravenous hunger Heyes took pity on the little feline and taking some chicken and gravy into the spoon he tapped it out onto the floor by her feet. Loud purring instantly filled the cell as she instantly began to dig in to her supper and it would be hard to say which one of them finished their meal first.

When Jed went in to town again and checked in at the telegraph office to see if there were any messages, he was both hopeful and scared to death that there would be something for him from Kenny. Then when he found that indeed there was a message waiting there for him from the guard, his gut tied itself in a knot and he almost couldn't get himself to open it. This was either good news or bad and if it was bad he just didn't know how he would be able to carry on.

Finally though, he had to know and he opened up the folded piece of paper. Instantly relief washed over him and he found that he had to sit down on the edge of the boardwalk or collapse right there in the middle of the street.

_'Jed Curry, Brookswood Colorado. He's eating. On his own. We did it. K. R.'_

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's note; The letter and photograph from Abi to Heyes was kindly delivered across the pond by Silverkelpie.

* Referring to Silverkelpie's story; Compos Mentis. With her knowledge and approval, of course!


	33. Chapter 33

Healing

It was cold on the morning when Steven made his way into the Wyoming Territorial Prison. He was on his own during this visit since he didn't want Bridget coming on a trip like this during the crucial early months of her pregnancy, especially in this cold! There wasn't actually any snow on the ground yet, but it was definitely threatening and Steven just hoped that he could accomplish the numerous things he had to do here before he got snowed in.

He entered into the prison and went through the usual routine of getting in to see an inmate and then went to sit in the alcove to wait until the inmate was ready to receive him. A number of things were going through his mind while he waited. He really didn't know what to expect when it came to speaking with Mr. Heyes. Jed had told him that Heyes was calmer now; that he had turned away from that self-destructive course and therefore should be able to give an accurate accounting of that day in the infirmary. But Steven felt sceptical; he'd just have to wait and see, see how responsive Heyes was—and how credible.

"Mr. Granger. You can enter now."

Steven looked up to see that the receptionist, Mr. Grant had approached him unnoticed and now stood waiting expectantly for the lawyer to respond to the summons. Steven did not disappoint and he got to his feet and made the move towards the visitor room door.

"Thank you, Officer." Steven then took a deep breath and entered the room

Heyes was sitting at the desk as usual. He looked up as Steven entered and sent the lawyer a ghost of a smile before dropping both his gaze and his smile once again and stared listlessly down at his hands. Officer Reece was in attendance as well and he greeted and acknowledged the lawyer with a little bit more animation than the inmate.

"Officer Reece." Steven greeted him. "Good to see you again."

"Good morning Mr. Granger. Glad you could make it before the snows came."

Steven nodded emphatically. "Hmm—me too!"

He sent the inmate a speculative glance and then sitting down, he opened his brief case and set out his pad of paper, a pen and an ink jar. All the while he was keeping an eye on his client, trying to get any indication of the man's fragile state of mind. Finally it was Heyes himself who broke the silence.

"Bridget not with you today?" He asked quietly.

"No." Steven answered him. "I didn't think it would be wise, given her condition."

Heyes frowned. "Her condition?"

"Bridget is in the family way, Mr. Heyes." Steven explained. "We're expecting."

"Oh." Was the only response he got.

Steven sent a quick speculative glance to Kenny then looked back to the inmate again.

"Are you comfortable with Officer Reece being here?" He asked. "You are entitled to complete confidentiality if you would prefer."

Heyes sighed and he and Kenny locked eyes for an instant. Then Heyes looked back to his lawyer again.

"No, no." He said. "I would actually prefer that Kenny stay. He is a part of this, after all."

"Fine." Steven agreed and inwardly he was actually relieved. Though Steven was well acquainted with his client he could tell that there had been some significant changes in his demeanour and the presence of the guard would probably make this whole interview go a lot smoother.

"Alright Mr. Heyes." Steven continued as he dunked his pen into the ink. "If you would just go ahead and tell me what you remember about that day in the infirmary."

Heyes nodded and then, his voice a quiet monotone he related those events that led up to the Doctor being stabbed. At that point Heyes' throat tightened up on him and he had to stop to collect himself. The memory of those events were so painful to the inmate that both men witnessing the recital found it difficult to listen to and neither of them could meet the others' eye. Heyes took a deep breath and continued on until such time as the escaping inmates were leaving the actual prison and then Steven stopped him and looked to the guard.

"Is this how you recall these events, Officer Reece?" He asked. "Is there anything here that you wish to elaborate on?"

"No, Mr. Granger." Kenny answered. "That's pretty much how it happened. Though I didn't actually witness the assault upon Dr. Morin, what Heyes says happened fits the circumstances. For one thing, Doc wouldn't have been trying to console Heyes, if Heyes was the one who had knifed him."

Steven nodded. Heyes was hanging his head, the memories of that day cutting him to the quick yet again.

"So both of you are pretty much in agreement that it was Hank Boeman who inflicted the fatal wound upon Dr. Morin." Steven asked for confirmation.

Kenny nodded. "Yes." He stated.

Heyes continued to stare at the table in front of him and gave no indication of response. Kenny and Steven both looked at him.

"Are we in agreement, Mr. Heyes?" Steven finally asked again.

Heyes slowly looked up, a dull pain clouding his eyes. He looked over at Kenny, as though asking for help but Kenny didn't know what was wanted of him. Then Heyes looked back to Steven.

"I don't know." He admitted in a whisper.

"You don't know?" Both Steven and Kenny were taken by surprise. They had thought that this was the one aspect of the case that was a shoe in. "You just stated yourself that you saw Hank Boeman stab Dr. Morin in the side with the scalpel. Do you wish to retract that statement?"

"No." Heyes assured him. "I'm just not sure that it was the knife wound that killed him."

There was a stunned silence for a moment, the pen in Steven's hand held poised above the paper and the ink drying on its tip.

"I see." Said Steven, trying to buy a moment to collect his thoughts. "What do you think killed him then—if not the blood loss from that wound?"

Heyes sat silent for a moment again, his lips parted to answer but his countenance weighed down with uncertainty. He looked up at Kenny again, seeking reassurance and Kenny met his gaze and nodded for him to carry on. Heyes looked back to his lawyer.

Steven sat and watched this exchange, shocked at the change in this man. All the confidence was gone from him. The cocky arrogance that had gotten him into so much trouble during his trial had been so totally beaten out of him that the lawyer would never have recognized him as the same man. A submissive younger brother perhaps, but certainly not the man who had once led the Devil's Hole gang to such infamy.

"I don't know if I should say." Heyes confessed.

"If you have any doubts about what happened that day then now is the time to bring them up." Steven assured him.

Heyes bit his lower lip, a picture of child-like consternation. "At one point there, I was certain of what I knew, but now...I'm not so sure."

Steven put his dry pen down on the table. "You may speak freely of any doubts you have." He assured his client. "I won't write any of it down and it will not be taken as your final testimony. Nor will anything you say at this meeting be held against you. I want you to feel free to voice your concerns."

Heyes still hesitated. He was no longer delusional which actually made what he had to say even more difficult; he was aware now more than ever how it was going to sound to the other men here. He knew that he could be blowing his credibility altogether with this one statement, but he had to have his say, if for no one else, then for the Doc.

"I have reason to believe that it was Mr. Carson who actually killed the Doc." He finally forced out and then he waited with baited breath for the reaction.

The reaction was stunned silence. Steven recovered quickly and looked over at a confused Kenny.

"Was Officer Carson in the infirmary with you?" He asked the guard.

"No." Kenny was positive. "I left Carson back in the cell block. He was no where near the infirmary at the time of the escape."

"It was afterwards." Heyes explained and then looked up at Kenny. "Remember, Doc told me not to worry because someone would come looking for us soon enough and they'd help him—remember?"

"Yeah." Kenny nodded. "I figured that he was right. If we didn't show up back in the cell block within a certain amount of time, Carson would have sent someone to check up on us."

"Well he didn't send anyone." Heyes informed them. "He came himself. But instead of helping Doc, Carson took one of the pillows and suffocated him. Then he told Warden Mitchell that I killed the Doc."

"Why would he do that?" Steven asked.

"He and Doc never liked each other." Heyes reasoned. "He may have seen it as an opportunity to get rid of a thorn in his side. I donno." He shrugged. "He knew that Doc had supplied some pretty damning written testimony for my hearing—maybe it was revenge."

"Yes, but so did I Heyes." Kenny pointed out. "And I actually testified in person. Why didn't he come after me too then?"

"I donno." Heyes admitted, his mind still in a fog. "Maybe he didn't want to go after another guard. I donno. But why else would he say that I did it, when I know I didn't?"

Kenny and Steven exchanged sceptical looks. Heyes looked and felt dejected.

"Do you have any proof to support this accusation Mr. Heyes?" Steven asked him.

"Doc told me."

"Excuse me?" Steven asked, not sure he'd heard right. "Ahhmm, what do you mean?"

Kenny groaned; Heyes' delusional rantings instantly coming back to mind.

"I know it sounds crazy!" Heyes suddenly spoke up, defending himself. "And I know you'll probably think that I'm a candidate for the lunatic asylum—hell, sometimes I think I'm a candidate for the lunatic asylum! I just...it's just that it seemed so real! At least it did at the time." Heyes slumped again, feeling dejected and no longer certain of what he thought he knew. "I was so certain that I was with Doc and that I was talking to him just as surely as I'm here talking to you. But now; I just don't know anymore."

"Heyes, you nearly died in that dark cell." Kenny pointed out. "When we pulled you out of there you were raving, you were delusional. I know when a person is that close to death, the hallucinations you have seem real, but..."

"I know." Heyes admitted. Then he smiled with just a hint of his old cockiness flashing through "So not really admissible in court then, huh."

Steven smiled. "No. I'm afraid not."

Heyes nodded acceptance and then sat silent again for a moment. Finally he sighed and looked up.

"Then 'yes' Mr. Granger." He said. "I am in agreement that Hank Boeman inflicted the fatal wound that killed Dr. Morin."

An hour later found Steven with his next appointment for that day, no matter how distasteful he might find that task to be. He sat in the warden's office, contemplating the man who was contemplating him and trying very hard to hide the unpleasant taste in his mouth.

"Mr. Curry has informed me of some interesting statements made by you that I feel need to be substantiated." Steven finally announced. "I'm very interested to hear what you have to say about that Mr. Mitchell."

"I believe that Mr. Curry has wasted your time Mr. Granger." Mitchell countered with a rather condescending smile. "He would say anything to try and divert guilt from his friend."

"Hmm." Was Steven's calculated response. "You do realize that you are in a rather haphazard position with your accusation."

"No Mr. Granger, I don't realize that at all." Mitchell countered. "On the contrary, a statement made by the dying man to my senior guard presents a very solid case against Mr. Heyes. It is only natural that the inmate would deny it."

"I believe it was Mr. Dalton was it not, who pointed out the flaw in that reasoning?" Steven reminded him. "And now with the statements you made to Mr. Curry, well..." Steven shrugged theatrically and then smiled. "Am I right in assuming that the escaped inmate, Mr. Harris as not been re-captured at this time?"

Mitchell shifted a little uncomfortably. "Unfortunately that is correct." The warden admitted. "But rest assured he will be re-captured—one way or another."

"I certainly hope so." Steven stated. "And if Mr. Carson is speaking the truth then I'm assuming that you will do everything possible to assure that Mr. Harris is captured alive since at this point, he is the only one capable of breaking the stalemate that we seem to find ourselves in."

Mitchell's colouring deepened in indignant anger. "Are you suggesting that I would have the escapee deliberately killed in order to prevent him from testifying?"

"Only if his testimony would contradict what Mr. Carson has stated." Steven specified. "He would be a totally unbiased eyewitness to what actually happened that day in the infirmary. So until Mr. Harris can be re-captured and brought forward to testify all we have is hearsay that is questionable at best. Hardly enough to convict a man of murder especially when there are such strong conflicting opinions of what actually transpired that day.

"At this point it would seem to me that it would be in your best interests that Mr. Harris be re-captured alive. That way he could support your accusations beyond any doubt and this matter could finally be put to rest. On the other hand if Mr. Harris is unfortunately killed while trying to elude re-capture, well it could appear suspicious that his testimony would not support what Mr. Carson has stated and that the poor hapless convict was simply 'gotten rid of' to prevent the truth from coming to light. And yet, the man's death would still be for not, since I hardly expect that Mr. Heyes could be convicted of murder on such flimsy evidence that you have presented."

"I have my senior guard's word on a dying man's accusation!" Mitchell pointed out. "That is hardly flimsy evidence!"

"It is hearsay!" Steven threw back at him. "There is no proof that Dr. Morin made such a statement! It is Mr. Carson's word against Mr Heyes' and Mr. Reece's! And given the relationship that Mr. Heyes had with Dr. Morin it is highly doubtful that Mr. Heyes would have killed him! I also have Mr. Curry's statement that you openly admitted to him that you know that Mr. Heyes is innocent of these charges but that you intend to push it forward out of some misguided need for revenge!

"So, again Mr. Mitchell; unless you are able to re-capture Mr. Harris and present him to testify in this case I would strongly recommend that you drop it for lack of any real proof!"

Mr. Mitchell was doing his best to keep his own tempter under control and the effort was making itself very apparent.

"We shall see who's word carries the most weight, Mr. Granger."

"It is my understanding that Mr. Dalton has already indicated which way the Board of Directors will lean in this matter, Mr. Mitchell." Steven pointed out. "It is you who is walking on thin ice here and I suggest that you turn around and head for safer ground before you drown yourself."

End of discussion.

After Steven had left the visitor's room Kenny removed the shackles from Heyes' extremities and then escorted him through the work area and onwards in the direction of the infirmary. Heyes was mildly surprised since he had given no indication of wanting to continue on as the medical assistant, in fact when asked he had stated otherwise. It seemed that as usual, his opinion did not matter. His jaw set in an irritated line.

"C'mon Heyes, don't be like that." Kenny reprimanded him. "You'll thank me in a minute."

Heyes highly doubted that. The infirmary held too many bad memories for the inmate at this time and he had no desire to spend more time there than necessary. But he was still too well aware of the rules to openly complain to the guard and allowed himself to be led over to that haunted department.

Kenny opened the access door and ushered Heyes inside, then followed in himself and they continued on over to the main counter.

"Hey Doc." Kenny greeted the new doctor. "Here he is, by your request."

Miller looked over and smiled. "Ah yes, thank you Officer Reece." Then he looked at Heyes who was still looking slightly pissed off. "I want to give you a quick physical Mr. Heyes, just to make sure your condition is still picking up. You're looking much better."

Heyes groaned. Yeah, thanks Kenny!

"Just have a seat over there and I'll be with you in a minute." Miller indicated.

Heyes sighed and went over to the cot in question and sat down while Miller and Kenny continued on with their own discussion for a few minutes. Then Heyes creased his brow when he saw Kyle come walking out of the small office to head over and sit beside him on the cot. Heyes thought that this was odd behaviour but decided not to mention it.

"Hey ya Kyle." He mumbled quietly.

"Howdy Heyes!" Kyle responded with a big toothy grin "You lookin' good!"

"Hmm. What are you doing here? You the Doc's new assistant or something?"

"Wul—no." Kyle admitted a little shame-faced. "I'm not like you Heyes; I ain't smart enough fer that."

"Sure ya' are Kyle." Heyes told him. "You'd do fine. Maybe I should recommend ya."

Kyle's smile dropped. "Oh! No, don't do that Heyes."

"Why not? You'd do fine."

"Wul, it's jest—I'm leavin' today."

Heyes perked up and swung around to look at him full in the face.

"You're leaving?" He asked with a hint of incredulity. "But you've got another nine or ten months to go!"

"Ya, but—remember I told ya' Heyes; The warden was gonna let me go early cause I've been real good."

"Oh, yeah." Heyes nodded. "That's right, you did tell me." Then Heyes was surprised to feel a touch of sadness settle over him. It'd been good to have one of his 'boys' in here with him and Heyes was going to miss his companionship. Then he gave a sigh and smiled over at the little man. "Yeah, that's good Kyle. Any ideas as to what you're going to do?"

"Wul, yeah." Kyle answered as though it should have been obvious. "Your memory really is on a slow horse these days. You better eat somethin' Heyes. I told ya' that rich rancher fella that Kid is workin' fer has offered me a job watchin' stock over the winter."

"Oh, yeah." Heyes conceded again, then he frowned. "I also remember you saying something stupid about going back to robbing trains instead!"

Kyle looked a little shame-faced. "Oh wul—no." Kyle retracted that while sending a quick look over to the guard. "I wus jest needling ya' Heyes. Tryin' ta get ya' to talk to me. That's all that was."

"Oh. Good." Heyes nodded. "I'd hate to see you throw this second chance away. Remember Big Jim. And if Jesse's offered you a job then you could do a lot worse for yourself than to take it. He's a good man, Kyle; he'll treat ya' fair."

Kyle gave a lopsided grin. "Yup, I know! That's what the Kid says too."

"Good." Heyes repeated. "Sooo...you're not going to go and hook up with Wheat and start robbing trains again, now are you?"

"Shoot Heyes! Wheat's dead." Kyle reminded him. "How could I go meetin' up with a dead man?"

Heyes sent Kyle a suspicious look. Kyle smiled back at him and started chawing on his tobacco.

Kenny put in an appearance then and interrupted them.

"Alright Mr. Murtry." He said. "Best you finish up here. I do believe that Mr. Granger is waiting on you and you do have a train to catch. And we still have to get you processed out of this place."

"Oh yeah." Kyle sounded disappointed. "Wul Heyes, I guess I gotta go. I feel kinda bad leavin' ya here all on yer own like this."

"Naw, Kyle." Heyes tried to cover up his own disappointment with a grin. "I'm fine now—you just get on out there and get on with your life. I'm glad you're getting out."

"Yeah." Then Kyle smiled again and standing up he offered Heyes his hand.

Heyes was startled for a second, but then stood up himself and grasping the offered hand, the two friends said their good-bye's. Kenny took Kyle's arm then and the two men walked away, leaving Heyes suddenly feeling very lonely. He just hoped that Kyle wasn't going to go and do something stupid out there; he'd lost enough friends these past five years and he didn't want to loose any more.

He sat back down on the cot with a little bit of a heavy heart just as Dr. Miller pulled up a chair opposite him, stethoscope in hand.

"Alright Mr. Heyes. Off with the tunic."

Heyes' shoulders slumped and he groaned.

The following morning the south-bound train pulled in to Brookswood Colorado. Amongst a number of other disembarking passengers a couple of men stood out from the norm simply because of their conflicting attire and demeanour even though they were obviously travelling together. The first; a young and handsome gentleman dressed in a tailored suit and carrying a brief case just didn't fit in with the older, smaller vagabond with chewing tobacco who seemed to have latched on to the former's coat tails.

Steven strode along the station platform with all the confidence in the world while Kyle scampered along behind wondering why they were heading in the opposite direction from the livery stable. Surely they would be renting horses or perhaps a surrey to continue on with the journey. But no; the lawyer was actually leading them away from that establishment, and doing it with a purpose in mind.

But then Kyle's face lit up with a genuine grin when he spotted a friend striding along the platform towards them.

"Hey Kid!" Kyle called out a greeting. "Whatcha doin' here? Gonna escort me the rest of the way to the ranch?"

"Hiya Kyle." Jed answered him, obviously pleased to see him. "Nope, got something else to discuss." Then he smiled at his friend. "How does it feel to be a free man?"

Kyle gave a lopsided grin. "Good—I guess. Weren't so bad in prison though. Three meals a day and a bed at night—don't havta share with nobody either!"

"Yeah well, obviously some find it easier than others." Jed prophisized. "Come on over to the saloon for a beer. We want to talk to ya'."

The smile dropped from Kyle's face and was replaced by suspicion. "What fer?"

"Nothing bad." Jed assured him and then placing a friendly arm across the smaller man's shoulders, began to encourage him across the street towards the drinking establishment. "Bet you could really do with a beer about now."

"Wul, yeah..."

The three men made their way over to the welcoming building and were much relieved though not surprised to find the inside relatively quiet being the middle of a week day as it was. Jed and Kyle made their way over to an empty table that was conveniently situated close to the wood stove while Steven angled over to the bar to order their beers.

It was warm and comfortable by the stove, and pretty soon everyone's coats were coming off and the three men were relaxing and enjoying their beer although Kyle was still a little concerned as to what this little meeting was all about.

"So Kyle." Jed finally got around to starting the real conversation. "What are your plans for the winter?"

"Wul, I thought I was gonna go work fer yer boss, Kid." Kyle answered, suddenly feeling as though he was being backed into a corner. "Ain't that what I'm doin'?"

"Well, I donno Kyle." Jed responded. "That's what was offered and that's what you said you were going to do, but what are you really planning on doing?"

"Whatcha gettin' at?"

"It's just that I can't see you spending a winter all alone up at a line cabin." Jed explained. "That just isn't you. Now when you have some of your buddies with you, you do fine sitting out the winters. You know, some card playin' and story tellin'-stuff to blow up, that sort of thing. But all on your lonesome? Just isn't you."

Kyle was looking worried now and he sent a look from one man to the other and then took a swallow of beer.

"A man's gotta do what he's gotta do, Kid. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah I know." Jed nodded, but then he leaned towards the other man with a sly smile on his face. "But c'mon Kyle, you were planning on meeting up with Wheat, weren't ya'?"

Kyle smiled nervously. "What makes ya' think that Kid?" He said, his voice a touch higher in its tone. "You know how many bullets Wheat done took. How could any man survive that?"

Jed leaned back again, shrugging his shoulders. "I donno. But one thing I do know is that whenever anybody asks you about Wheat you find a way to scurry around the question and answer it without really answering it."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Is Wheat still alive?"

"If them bullets didn't kill 'im than he's more n' likely drowned in the river."

"Kyle!" Jed leaned forward again, his temper starting to show just a bit. "Yes or no! Is Wheat still alive?"

Kyle took another swallow of beer and then a self-satisfied grin spread across his face as blue eyes met blue. Both Steven and Jed sat back in their chairs and grinned with relief.

"Ha ha!" Kid laughed. "I knew it!"

"What's ya' gonna do?" Kyle asked, suddenly afraid for his partner now.

"It's not what we're going to do Mr. Murtry." Steven pointed out. "But what you are going to do."

"Me?"

"What were your 'real' plans for this winter, Kyle?" Jed asked him.

Kyle sent slightly concerned looks back and forth between the two men again.

"It's alright, Mr. Murtry." Steven assured him. "Anything you say will be held in confidence."

"What do that mean?"

"It means that we won't tell anyone else what you say." Steven explained. "It'll just be between us three here. It also means that whatever you say cannot be used against you, ahh—to send you back to prison, things like that."

"Oh." He still hesitated.

"C'mon Kyle." Kid encouraged him. "We know you're planning on meeting up with Wheat, we just need to know when and where."

"Why?"

"KYLE...!"

"No, no Jed." Steven put a placating hand on his friend's arm and then turned to the little ex-con. "You needn't worry about your partner's safety Mr. Murtry. We're not trying to entrap you or him. We were hoping that you would be interested in helping out Mr. Heyes and for you to be able to do that, we need to know what you and Mr. Carlson are planning."

"Oh!" Kyle perked up and smiled. "Yeah—I'd like ta' help out Heyes. Why didn't ya' say so?"

Jed sent an exasperated sigh over to Steven, but the lawyer simply smiled.

"We need to know what your plans are for this winter." Steven reiterated.

"Wul..." Kyle began, looking a little sheepish. "I was gonna go do that job fer Mr. Jordan. At least until I'd saved up enough money fer a stake then get a horse and supplies and meet up with Wheat over by the Montana border."

"Is it possible for you to get in touch with Mr. Carlson?" Steven asked him. "Let him know that you've come in to some money and that you can meet up with him now?"

Kyle frowned. "Yeah—but, I ain't got no money though."

Steven brought his briefcase up onto the table and clicking it open, he produced a wad of bills that made Kyle's eyes light up like a stick of freshly thrown dynamite.

"Oooeeee!" He exclaimed. "Where you done get all that...!"

"Shhhh!"

Steven quickly closed the briefcase on the money and did a quick look around. He wasn't used to this covert stuff. Jed and Kyle smiled at each other.

"It's alright Steven." Jed assured him through a quiet laugh. "Nobody else is around."

"Oh, okay. Right." Then he smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"So what are ya' wantin' me ta do?" Kyle asked, getting down to business. "Ain't too dangerous is it?"

"No, no." Steven assured him though he thought that an odd question from a man who liked to play with dynamite. "We just want you to meet up with your friend and do whatever you usually do to get through a winter."

"Wul, Kid'll tell ya'." Kyle explained. "We just hunker down in the hideout and keep ourselves occupied until spring."

"So Mr. Carlson has a place to stay for the winter?"

"Yeah, sure!" Kyle was adamant. "Ya' gotta have a place to hole up fer the winter! He's got hisself in with one of them Montana gangs and if I showed up packin' a stake like that, wul they sure ta' let me join in too."

"Good." Steven smiled. "That's what we were hoping."

"Yeah, but—whatcha want me ta' do?"

"Just settle in with the gang and keep your ears and eyes open." Steven explained.

"Huh?"

Jed smiled and leaned forward again. "You know Heyes has been accused of killing Dr. Morin, right?"

"Of course!" Kyle almost sounded insulted that Kid would think he didn't know about that. "I also know that Heyes didn't do it!"

"No, of course he didn't!" Jed agreed. "But the Warden and Mr. Carson are still trying to stick it on him and right now it's just their word against his."

"Yeah."

"There's only one person who can break that stalemate." Jed continued to explain. "And that's the escaped inmate, Carl Harris. He was in the infirmary when it happened—he could clear Heyes."

"Yeah." Kyle was getting suspicious again. "But nobody knows where he is."

"That's where you come in." Jed told him. "You can get into places and talk to people that the law wouldn't have a chance in hell of even getting close to. All you need to do is watch and listen and whenever you hear about anything that might lead us to Harris, well all you have to do is send us a telegram. We'll do the rest. You don't have to do nothing else."

"I donno." Kyle was looking a little stressed. "That sounds kinda dangerous to me. That Harris struck me as bein' kinda not right—if'n ya' know what I mean."

"It won't be dangerous if you're careful." Jed assured him. "And we don't want you to approach him yourself, just find out where he is and let us know."

"Wul..."

Steven opened the briefcase again, just enough so that Kyle could see the wad of money hidden in there. Kyle grinned.

"I'll do it!"

The morning klaxon sounded loud and annoying and Heyes was startled out of a deep, dream filled sleep. He had been dreaming about the Doc and it had seemed so real that he was sure that it had all been a big mistake and that Doc was alive and well and they were sitting in the infirmary and sharing a pot of tea—just like always. Heyes even remembered that while he had still been in the dream he was saying to himself; 'No, this is too real, this can't be a dream. Doc is back and all is fine.'

Then the klaxon had sounded and he had awakened and the reality of the dream had been pulled away and Heyes knew that his mind had been playing tricks on him again. The prison cell was the reality and Doc was dead and Heyes felt hurt and disappointment wash over him as that truth was brought home one more time.

He yawned and stretched and then instinctively tucked his feet back again when he felt the warm lump at the foot of the bed. The cell was instantly filled with contented purring. Heyes opened his eyes and looked down the length of the cot. Sure enough he was met with green slitted eyes and a feline smile that radiated 'good morning!'.

Heyes groaned and shifting his feet to the other side of the cot he stretched again and then tried to convince himself that it was time to get up and start the day. Mouse had no problem with greeting the morning; she lay on her side and stretched out her four paws, extending all her toes as far as they could possibly go. Then she gave a huge yawn that ended with a subtle 'aack' and sitting up she commenced to perform her morning toilette.

Then Heyes jumped again as a bully club hit the bars of his cell door and he felt the weight of his depression settle over him once again.

"C'mon Heyes—outa bed!" Came Davis' voice. "Now that you're back to the land of the living, it's time to get up!"

Heyes groaned for the second time but he did get himself sitting up and then pulling the blanket out from under a protesting Mouse, he wrapped it around himself for the warmth before standing up to approach the cell door for the morning roll call. The cat jumped off the cot and trotted out of the cell to go in search of her own breakfast.

Heyes got up and stood bleary eyed and shivering at the door of the cell until roll call was finished with and then commenced to make his bed and tidy up his cell before they all headed down to the mess hall for breakfast. It was cold in the prison that morning and Heyes, along with other inmates who had the extra clothing, quickly pulled on sweaters and extra socks before heading out to start their day. Snow would be coming soon.

Breakfast was gotten over with fairly quickly. The oatmeal was okay and the coffee actually tasted pretty good, and then everyone headed back out to the work floor to commence making brooms or candles or cigars—whatever. Heyes was still in a bit of a fog about what he was supposed to be doing. As far as he was concerned he wasn't even supposed to be here—he should have been gone. Gone to wherever Doc was, if that was even a real place and not just some product of his own hallucinations.

He didn't care anymore. He had been convinced to go on living for the sake of others if not for himself and he had been willing to do that. But life itself still had no real meaning to him, no real attraction. He was just putting in time. Making a sacrifice. He mechanically went to his work station and went about his duties as though in a trance and now that Kyle was gone as well he just simply did not acknowledge anyone else other than with a simple 'yessir—no sir' when asked a question by the guards.

He was nothing. He was nobody and Gunther began to blossom in his role as the new dominate, until such time as somebody else would come in and challenge him, that is. Heyes didn't care. Gunther tried to push him into a confrontation at one point but Heyes just submitted and backed off—he wasn't interested anymore. Who cares.

Finally Kenny had had about enough of this and he approached the inmate out on the work floor and interrupted his all important cigar stuffing.

"Convict. Follow me."

Heyes groaned. What now? Still, Heyes had no choice but to obey the command and follow the guard to wherever he chose to lead. It didn't take Heyes long to realize that they were heading back over the infirmary again. This was not exactly Heyes' favourite place to be anymore and Kenny knew that and he found himself resenting the guard for dragging him over there; what was the point after all?

"Dr. Miller has been expressing his desire for an assistant." Kenny informed the inmate. "He has heard good things about your abilities in that capacity and has requested that you recommence with those duties."

Heyes didn't say anything—he wasn't permitted to anyways since there was no direct question in there, so he kept his mouth shut despite his growing apprehension.

"Personally I think it's a good idea." Kenny continued. "You need to get back to it again Heyes. You need to get interested in something again. Just give it a try. Miller's okay—you might even find that you like him and I'm sure you can show him a thing or two. Just give it some time Heyes. If, after a month you still don't want to do it well, then we can re-consider. But I think it'll be good for you to get back at it again. Okay?"

Hmm, a direct question. "Yeah, I suppose." Was the non-committal response.

Kenny sighed. "Jed has been in touch." He changed subjects. "He would like to come out to see you before the weather gets too nasty. What shall I tell him?"

Heyes shrugged. "Whatever."

Kenny stopped and turned towards the inmate, blocking his path.

"That's not good enough Heyes." He said. "C'mon, talk to me. Do you want to see him or not?"

Heyes looked down at the floor. He shrugged. "I guess."

"HEYES! Do you want to see him or not!?"

Heyes continued to look at the floor. "Does he want to see me?"

"I just told you that he did." Kenny reminded him. "He's worried about you. He wants to see you before the snows really set in. How about it?"

Heyes sighed and still wouldn't meet the guard's eye. "I expect he's pretty mad at me." Heyes surmised. "I pushed his patience to the limit I think."

"You did that to all of us." Kenny stated point-blank. "But he understands what you were going through. How about it? Shall I tell him to come out?"

"Yeah." Heyes nodded, still looking at the floor. "I guess. It would be good to see him."

Kenny nodded emphatically. "Good! I'll let him know."

Then the guard turned and carried on down the hallway. Heyes followed.

Once in the infirmary, Miller was happy to see them and quickly put Heyes to work doing inventory and getting him back in to the swing of things. Kenny left them to it and returned to the work floor with assurances that he would be back at supper time. Heyes sighed and accepted his fate. Dr. Miller tried to make friends.

"You know more about how this infirmary is laid out Heyes." He stated. "Why don't you show me around?"

Heyes just smirked.

"You've been here long enough." He pointed out. "I think you probably have it down by now."

"Well, what were your duties while you were here?"

Heyes shrugged. "Just clean up, inventory and help the Doc with whatever he needed help with. Sister Julia did a lot of that too though."

"Yes, I know." Miller admitted. "She is very helpful around here. But still, she isn't here all the time and having you come in once a week will certainly help. Especially now that the colder weather is setting in and we can expect some colds and flues to take hold."

"Hmm."

And so it went that first day. Dr. Miller tried to make a connection but Heyes basically rebuffed him at every opportunity; he just wasn't interested in making friends. When Kenny came to get him that evening, the atmosphere in the infirmary was strained to say the least, but Miller wasn't prepared to give up on it yet and insisted that the inmate return the following week. It might take some time, but the doctor was determined to get Heyes engaging again and he was willing to put up with the cold shoulder in order to meet that goal.

A few days later, Heyes was still sullen and moody. He spent most of his leisure time sitting in his cell and reading his books. Letters had arrived for him from Clem and from Bridget but he wasn't terribly interested in receiving even more reprimands from those two ladies so he basically left them to lay unopened on his table.

Mouse continued to keep him company. She knew her job wasn't completed yet and she stayed close, rubbing against him and demanding attention, or simply curling up on his lap and going to sleep as he reclined on his cot and read his books. Heyes was becoming accustomed to her presence and was actually beginning to find some comfort in her company. But as for anyone else? Well, he still just wished they would all leave him alone.

"Convict. Follow me."

Heyes groaned. What now? It's not that stuffing cigars was such an enterprising occupation, but Heyes was getting tired of all this special attention he was getting from this particular guard. Kenny was becoming just as much a nuisance as David was when it came to being a pest.

The inmate found himself heading over towards the infirmary again which didn't really make much sense, since Heyes had put in his day there and nothing much was happening so why were they heading back there again? Besides, as far as Heyes knew, the Sister and her novice were at the prison this day so really, there was no need for Heyes to be putting in an extra day—nothing was going on.

Kenny wasn't being helpful either. He didn't say a word, or give the inmate any excuse to ask questions but just kept on walking over towards the infirmary with an irritated Heyes in tow. When they reached the medical ward, Kenny ushered the prisoner in and closed the door behind them, apparently intending to stay and officiate whatever was going to be happening here.

Heyes viewed the other occupants of the ward, and as expected along with Dr. Miller, Sister Julia and Marilyn were also in attendance, each busy with their own duties and other than a smile or two in greeting, not terribly interested in the new arrivals. Heyes looked around at Kenny but got nothing other than a blank expression. He faced forwards again and found himself looking into the brilliant blue eyes of his partner. Heyes felt a slight chill of guilt go through him as those blue daggers bore into him and he swallowed just a little nervously and looked away.

"Heyes." Curry acknowledged him.

"Hey Kid." Heyes tried to be light.

"Heyes, I swear; if you ever put me through something like that again I'm gonna shoot ya' myself."

Heyes smiled cockily. "Well, it's not too late." And then instantly regretted his snide remark when the ice daggers turned to steel.

Three people were on the move almost simultaneously. Jed made an angry rush at his partner and then Kenny, taken by surprise at this totally unexpected hostile move on Jed's part was a split second later in leaving his mark. Heyes on the other hand who was not hindered by any misjudgement of character, reacted instinctively and was on the run the same instant as his partner.

But again, Heyes had no where to run to and found himself with his back up against the wall and his partner's hands grabbing the front of his tunic and leaning into him for all he was worth. Kenny was there trying to get Jed to back off, but then realized that his best option at this point was simply to mediate and give the two men the opportunity to work this out themselves.

Jed bore into his partner, anger emanating from every pore and Heyes submitted, knowing darn well that he had overstepped his boundaries and was feeling squeamish with the onslaught.

"Do you have any idea what you put me through!?" Jed demanded through a tight jaw. "DO YOU!?"

"Kid, I..."

"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME!?"

"Yeah...Kid—I'm sorry..."

Kid shook him roughly like a pittbull with a rag doll. The tension in the infirmary was palpable and Kenny wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, still he was willing to let it play out but stood ready to break it up if the confrontation turned bloody.

"PROMISE ME HEYES! GODDAMMIT! PROMISE ME YOU'LL NEVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!"

"Yeah...I'm sorry. I won't..."

Another rough shaking. "PROMISE ME!"

"YEAH! I PROMISE! I won't Kid—I promise; I won't ever do that to you again! I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

Silence filled the room. Tensions were still high and nobody moved for what seemed like an eternity. Heyes was holding on to his partner's wrists, but was not fighting against him in any way and just looked to the floor, unable to meet those angry blue eyes. Jed was still furious but he knew that it was the memory of over-whelming terror that drove it so gradually his anger dissipated and his ragged breathing began to settle down.

Heyes looked lost and totally dejected and was still whispering; "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." until every heart in the room couldn't help but go out to him. Even Jed eventually sighed and released Heyes from his intense glare, and then he almost looked repentant and his angry stance relaxed and he sighed. He cupped Heyes' face in one of his hands.

"Jesus Heyes, you scared me to death." Jed admitted quietly. "Don't ever do that to me again."

Heyes still couldn't look up to meet Jed's eyes, but he subtly shook his head in compliance and swallowed down his regret.

"No, Kid." He whispered, his voice shaking. "I promise. I'm sorry. I won't."

Then everybody in the room felt a knot in their throat as Jed took his partner into an embrace and rocked him gently as he would a small child. Heyes submitted completely and though he would later deny it if asked, at this moment in time he felt protected and loved and the safest he'd ever been since further back than he could remember.

The inmate sighed deeply, partly in contentment and partly in shame and regret over his previous behaviour. Then Jed surprised even himself when he impulsively kissed his cousin on the forehead and then pushed him up to stand straight again. Then the two friends did look one another directly in the eye and Jed smiled.

"Good ta' have ya' back again Heyes."

Heyes smiled himself. A soft, gentle, almost embarrassed smile—and he nodded. "Yeah."

There was a collective sigh of relief from the onlookers and Kenny backed off the two men and walked over to the counter. He went to stand beside Dr. Miller who was still standing like a statue with his mouth partly open in disbelief and complete uncertainty. Fortunately Sister Julia had no such qualms and she quickly smiled and approached her friend.

"Come Joshua!" She encouraged him. "Come and sit. Thank the Lord you've come back to us! You had us all scared to death."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Heyes' voice was small and uncertain, but he allowed the Sister to come in and give him a heartfelt hug. It was then that he noticed David in amongst the onlookers and his shoulders slumped. What was this? Hometown reunion week?

"Hey David." Heyes acknowledged him as the Sister stepped away. "You here to ream me out too?"

"No, I think Jed did a good enough job of that for all of us." David assured him with a smile. "No, I wanted to take a look at your shoulders and since Jed was coming out to visit anyways, well...thought it best to get it done before the snows fly."

"My shoulders?" Heyes questioned. "They're fine."

"Oh I'm willing to bet that David will find something to poke and prod at." Jed predicted with an evil smile. "You're gonna really appreciate this Heyes."

"Come on, take a seat over here." David motioned him over to one of the stools.

"What for?" Heyes was instantly suspicious.

"I just want to examine you."

"What for?"

David smiled again. "I can see why you and Jed are partners. Please, just sit down and pull off your tunic."

"I'm fine David. What's all..."

"Heyes." Kenny interrupted the protest. "Just do it."

Heyes' mouth set into a hard line and his expression turned sulky. "Yessir." He snarked and obediently sat down on the indicated stool. Kenny rolled his eyes; somebody was in a mood—again.

"Your tunic Hannibal." David reminded him. "Please, remove it."

Heyes sighed but did as requested, flinching just a bit with the movement of his arms that was necessary for the completion of the task. He pulled the tunic over his head and then looked around the ward to find that all eyes were on him. He frowned.

"What?" He asked of everyone and no one in particular.

"It hurts, doesn't it." David said. "Stretching your arms up like that."

"I donno. I don't really notice it." Heyes lied and he heard Jed give a snort.

"Huh hmm." David wasn't fooled either. "It's been close to a year and it's still causing you pain, isn't it."

Heyes looked away. "Well, I suppose." He grudgingly admitted. "Occasionally."

This warranted quite a loud and universal response of disbelief from the other people in the ward. Even Kenny wasn't buying it.

"Really Joshua!" Sister Julia brought him to task. "We both saw you flinch when you stooped to pick up that pan that had fallen to the floor!"

"And just the other day when I asked you to put the towels up on the top shelf over there, you could barely manage it." Miller pointed out.

Heyes was seething now, his submissive stance with Jed having totally dissipated. He was being backed into a corner and he knew it.

"Fine!" He conceded sarcastically. "You're all ganging up on me—again! What choice do I have but to go along with it!" Then he turned to Kenny. "And you...!" Kenny turned an inquisitive look towards him, but Heyes quickly thought better of antagonizing that particular guard and quickly cut off whatever accusation he'd been about to throw at him. "Fine!" He mumbled.

"Good! I'm glad we're in agreement!" David announced. But then his expression turned professional and he stepped in closer to his friend. "Let me see your hands."

Heyes lifted his hands up and David took hold of them and gave the wrists a quick examination.

"Hmm, yeah." He mumbled quietly. "Not too much we can do about the scaring there." Then he let one arm drop back down again but turned the other hand over, palm up and began to slowly work his way up the lower arm, pressing his thumbs into the flesh and the muscles until he reached the elbow

Heyes' expression tightened just a little at this intrusion but it didn't really hurt too much and he sat quietly while David continued on. Then David started to apply pressure to the upper arm, working his way towards the shoulder and Heyes was becoming a little distressed.

"Is that hurting?" David asked.

"Well, a little." Heyes reluctantly admitted.

Then David quite deliberately pushed his thumb into the muscle in the front of the shoulder, just above the armpit. Heyes instantly tensed up and sucked his teeth.

"Oh! There he goes." Jed mumbled.

"Yeah alright!" Heyes conceded. "Now that hurt!"

"Yes, I thought it might." David admitted.

Then he picked up the other arm and began to give it the same treatment he had given the first and got pretty much the same result. Heyes was getting a little resentful of this. Why did David have to keep on prodding him when he'd already confessed that it hurt!?

In the mean time the remaining people in the ward had quietly made their way over to the examination and were watching intently to see what Dr. Gibson was doing. Heyes began to feel like a guinea pig and he didn't much care for the way his physical situation was being exposed for all to see. But David seemed oblivious to the scrutiny and continued on with his examination.

He moved around behind the patient then and ran his hands along the scars on Heyes' back. Heyes tensed again.

"Does that hurt?" David asked him.

"No." Heyes said. "It's just...no, never mind. It doesn't hurt."

David nodded. "I don't mean to be putting you on the spot." He assured his friend. "But I think that it's important that you get the care you need even if I'm not here to do it. Dr. Miller and the Sister need to know what the problems are and how to treat them if you want to get better."

"I'm fine." Heyes insisted, but without quite the same level of conviction as earlier on.

"Really." David stated with just a touch of irony. "Do you want to be in pain for the rest of your life?"

"It's not that bad."

"And it's only going to get worse as you get older." David continued. "So stop being a hero and let me get on with this."

"Give it up Heyes." Jed advised him. "He's not going to back off—believe me; I know!"

Heyes sighed and accepted defeat. Dr. Miller joined David behind the patient and looked approvingly at the scars left behind from the whipping.

"I'm amazed at how well this has healed." He stated. "You can barely feel any welting. I would say that eventually all that will be left of that injury will be the white lines, there should hardly be any scar tissue build up at all."

David nodded. "Yes. Hydration, Dr. Miller. If you keep water running over the injury, and soaking the wounds in salt water, it will not only prevent infection but promotes healing and keeps the scar tissue to a minimum." Then he sighed regretfully. "I just wish I could have been here to do something with those wrists. I'm afraid those scars are there for good now."

"Doc Morin did the best he could." Heyes protested, feeling the need to defend his friend.

"Oh, no. I meant nothing against Dr. Morin, Han." David assured him. "I know he did very well under difficult conditions. And there's always so many new ideas coming along in medicine, it's impossible to keep up with it all.

"Yes." Miller agreed. "I still feel as though I've just barely scratched the surface."

David smiled. "That's because that's all you have done." He commented. "Hopefully what I can show you today will help you to scratch a little deeper."

Miller nodded, willing to accept the slight reprimand from the more experienced doctor and turned his focus back towards the patient. David began to work his way across the back of Heyes' shoulders, again pressing in with his thumbs and causing the inmate to tighten up and gasp in pain with almost every touch.

"Jeez, David!" Heyes protested. "Have you ever considered becoming a prison guard? You sure wouldn't need a bully club to get the job done. OUCH!"

David ignored the protests and brought the younger doctor in closer.

"Okay, Dr. Miller. Press your thumb into the muscle here, right where I am. Feel that knot in there?"

"Oh, yes!" Miller actually looked pleased. "There is definitely a hard ball in there—right in the muscle!"

Heyes sat with clenched teeth. He couldn't believe how much this was hurting.

"Huh huh. And now, over here. Feel that?"

"Oh my goodness! Yes, they're all through the muscles in his shoulders!"

"Yes." David agreed. "It's those knots that we have to work on. That's old scar tissue that has built up and is preventing the muscles from stretching out and doing their job. That's why there's so much pain whenever he tried to reach for anything, either downwards or up. The muscles have very little elasticity in them so they were fighting against the movement rather than assisting it."

"That's incredible." Miller was actually ecstatic at the opportunity to be learning new things. "Come, Sister, come feel this."

Sister Julia came over and took her turn at poking and prodding the patient.

"Oh yes." She commented. "Yes, I can feel that. Here Marilyn, come feel this."

"Oh c'mon!" Heyes finally protested, he'd about had enough. But then he regretted his outburst as soon as he saw the disappointed look flash across Marilyn's face. Her curiosity had been aroused as well and she also wanted to have a turn. "Oh alright." Heyes relented. "Since we're all here, you may as well have a go too."

Marilyn's expression brightened up and she quickly came around to join the group at Heyes' back before he had a chance to change his mind. At least her touch was a little bit gentler than the others had been and Heyes finally accepted his role as the class project for the day.

He glanced over at Kenny. "How about you?" He asked with a hint of resignation. "If you want revenge, now's the time."

Kenny smiled. "No, that's alright Heyes. Thanks for the offer though."

"How do we go about breaking these down?" Miller finally asked.

Heyes groaned. He didn't need to be an expert to know that this was going to hurt. No wonder the Kid had complained so much about the treatment he had received from David, but then again; Kid did get his shooting arm back, so...

"OUCH!" Came the unbidden protest and Heyes tensed up again.

"Try to keep breathing Hannibal." David told him.

"I didn't know I'd stopped."

"Yes." David informed him. "Just try to relax and keep breathing normally. Now raise your right arm up as high as you can. Okay. That's as far as you can go?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Dr. Miller put your thumb right in here where mine is. Can you feel that? Good. Now apply pressure to it." Heyes sucked wind. "Good, that's right. Now Han, slowly bring your arm down—and keep breathing, try to relax the muscle."

Heyes brought his arm down again and tried to keep breathing but he couldn't believe the pain. It made him feel light headed, almost to the point of passing out.

"Okay, good." David complimented both doctor and patient. "Now, bring your arm up again."

"Oh, no." Heyes protested.

"Come on Hannibal." David encouraged him. "I know it hurts but the more we do it, the easier it will get."

"It'll be worth it Heyes." Jed quietly encouraged him and then smiled. "Trust me."

Heyes laughed a little sardonically but then allowed the treatment to continue with as little protesting as he could manage.

And so it went. David showing Dr. Miller the way and between the two of them, with Sister Julia and Marilyn standing by to assist, they worked every muscle in the upper arms and shoulders, front and back until Heyes felt totally wrung out and reaching the threshold of how much pain he was willing to take.

Finally, just as he was about to start screaming his protests, David called it quits for the day.

"Alright, that's enough for now." He said and Heyes just about fainted with relief. "Sister, if you could rub some of that salve on those muscles it'll help them to calm down."

"Of course, doctor."

Marilyn went and got the jar of ointment and the two ladies have Heyes a rather pleasant massage. Now this, he could handle. The more they rubbed the warming salve into his muscles the more heat was generated in his shoulders and before he knew it he was practically falling asleep where he sat.

"How often should we be doing this, Dr. Gibson?" Miller asked. "Every day?"

"No, no. That would be too hard on him." David explained. "If he can stand it three times a week that would be great. But no less than twice a week. And he'll be tired after these treatments so don't expect too much work out of him when you're done." Here he turned to the guard. "Would it be possible for him to just stay quiet for the rest of the day? Either here or in his cell."

"I'll make sure of it Doc." Kenny agreed.

"Good. Alright Dr. Miller. I will leave you some books that you can glance through whenever you get the chance. Hopefully any questions you have can be answered in them. And as for myself, I'd better be heading home before my wife's weather predictions turn out to be true." Then he turned to Heyes and put a hand on his shoulder. Heyes looked up at him through sleepy eyes. "I'm off for home Han." He said. "Keep up the stretches, alright? It's important."

"Yeah, okay David. I know." Heyes agreed.

"Good." Then David sighed and stood for a moment, just looking at his friend and trying to get any kind of a reading from him as to his state of mind. He just looked tired. "Are you alright now Hannibal?" He finally asked. "Are you going to make it?"

Heyes gave him a quiet smile. "Yeah David, I'm alright. And I mean it the way you want me to mean it this time. I'm not gonna try anything."

David grinned and gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "That's good to hear." He assured him. "Just stay with us. We're all still here for you, okay—don't forget that."

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks David."

"Alright." David accepted that. Then he turned to Jed. "I have some things to talk over with Dr. Miller and Sister Julia so if you want to have a visit with Hannibal, now would be the best time, but make it short. He's going to be tired after all that and we don't want to miss that train!" He smiled a little whimsically. "Tricia would have my hide if we got snowed in here."

"Ohh, that's for sure!" Jed agreed. "Alright David. I won't be long."

So the medical staff retired to their end of the infirmary while Kenny retreated to sit quietly by the door and let the two friends have some privacy for their visit. He was still watching them though. Apparently even Jed could be unpredictable.

Curry pulled up another stool and sat down facing his cousin. Heyes was looking a bit dejected again, his mood dipping down into melancholy as the tiredness of his body took over his thoughts. Jed smiled and tried to lighten the mood. He knew that this was probably the last visit before winter really set in and he didn't want it to end with Heyes feeling depressed.

"You should see Ned." The Kid began. "He's turning into a real fine colt. Jesse couldn't be more pleased with him."

"Ned?" Heyes asked rather nonchalantly.

"Karma's colt from last spring." Jed informed him. "He's turning out to be a real looker. Just like his ma."

"Oh."

"Daisy's coming along fine too." Jed continued. "Beth is really looking forward to this spring so that they can start her breaking out. That filly is going to be a real nice horse for Beth."

"Hmm."

Jed sighed. Heyes' moods were such a roller coaster ride; submissive and repentant, then moody and snarky and now, sullen and depressed.

"You going to services again?" He finally asked, hoping to get Heyes engaging with more than just one word answers.

"No."

"Maybe you should." Jed suggested. "You used to enjoy listening to them. Listening to the music and getting your new words every week. Don't you want to do that anymore?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Now it was Heyes' turn to sigh. "It's not really important is it."

"I thought it was." Jed insisted. "I kinda enjoyed getting those new words from you all the time. I kinda miss it. Don't you miss it Heyes?"

"No."

Jed sighed again. "C'mon Heyes, talk to me!" He was practically pleading with him. "I know damn well that your mind is going full speed ahead, you're just not letting it out. Talk to me! I'm not mad at ya'! Well, I guess I was, maybe a little." Heyes snorted. "But I'm not mad anymore—ya' just scared me is all! I'm kinda frustrated too, cause I just don't know what to do with this." He sat quietly for a moment then, scrutinizing his cousin and Heyes sat, allowing himself to be scrutinized. "I'm just glad you're still with us." Jed finally admitted. "So just—talk to me."

Heyes continued to stare at nothing and silence settled over the ward. Kenny, who could overhear this conversation waited in anticipation for it to continue on. He was interested as well as to what the inmate was thinking these days—Heyes had not made it easy to fathom where he was at.

"I don't want to be here." Heyes finally stated. "I feel like I've been tricked and I'm kinda angry about it."

"Tricked?" Jed asked quietly.

"Yeah." Heyes nodded, still staring at nothing. "It's like you all conspired against me—even Abi; using my daughter to force me to go on living."

"We weren't conspiring against ya' Heyes" Jed pointed out. "We were conspiring with ya'. Don't you think that Anya is a good enough reason to go on living?"

"Yeah." Heyes admitted. "That's just it. I was all ready to go, wanted to go until everybody threw my daughter in my face. Now it's impossible for me to do anything but go on living, whether I want to or not. And I kinda resent that."

Jed sat back and contemplated his cousin. As usual Heyes was offering up a whole new slant on things.

"We did what we had to do Heyes." Jed finally commented. "I make no apologies for it."

Finally Heyes looked up and met Jed's eye. "I know. And I know I put you through a real hard time. I just wish...I wish there was some way I could..." But then he dropped his eyes and shook his head, feeling defeated.

"What Heyes? You wish you could what?" Jed encouraged him to open up. "C'mon. It's not like you to get tongue tied. You wish you could what..."

Heyes shook his head again. "No. It doesn't make any sense."

"So what Heyes? Just say it." Jed pushed a little, remembering back to a similar conversation he'd had with David oh so long ago. "So what if it doesn't make any sense. Just tell me what you're thinking."

"I just wish...that I could go to where Doc is. I know! I know it's not a real place—that it was just part of my delirium and that it doesn't really exist. But still...I wish I could go there but at the same time not hurt anybody by going. Can you understand that Kid?"

"Yeah, I guess." Jed admitted. "If it was that nice a place." Heyes nodded. "But ya' can't. You know that Heyes, don't ya'? You can't go there without hurting the people you leave behind."

"I know that Kid. I do." Heyes assured him. "And I should be thanking you too, but...I just don't feel very grateful yet. Can you understand that Jed?"

"Yeah, I guess." Jed admitted again. "I know things aren't that pleasant for you here and I can certainly understand you not wanting to stay—especially if what Doc Morin seemed to be offering was as nice as you described. But it's not real Heyes. We're trying to get ya' back to a good life that is real. We had a good life before, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Heyes nodded.

"Well, then you know it's out there." Jed reasoned. "Just don't you go giving up again! Cause we're not going to give up—ya hear me!?"

Heyes nodded. "Yeah, I hear ya." Then he looked up and he smiled. A sad smile, but a smile none the less.

Jed grinned back, and taking whatever he could get at this point, decided that it was time to change the subject.

"Did you know that Steven and Bridget are expecting?"

"Yeah." Heyes admitted. "Steven kinda let the cat out of the bag when he was here."

"Oh."

Silence.

"How's Jay?"

"Good." Jed responded. "He's on the move a lot now, and talking real well. He just loves ole' Buck to pieces and I was taking him for rides away from the yard quite a bit this past summer."

"Yeah?" Heyes continued. "And you and Beth? Still courting?"

"Yeah." Jed answered. "Everything is fine there."

"Hmm."

"Met Tricia's cousin a while back." Jed commented. "Geesh! She sure is a fire cracker! A little spinney if ya' ask me—but in a nice way."

"Oh yeah?" Heyes asked, trying to be interested. "I suppose it takes all types."

"I suppose."

"Any word from Lom?"

"No." Kid shook his head and then smiled. "I guess married life is agreeing with him!"

"I suppose." Again, another valiant effort. "How's Kyle doing?"

"Oh." Jed sat up a little straighter then. "Ahh, he decided to head over to Montana after all. I guess he figured that working a line cabin all on his lonesome wasn't for him."

"Oh." Came Heyes response, laced with a bit of bitterness. "Going to just fall back into outlawing is he? Even with a clean slate behind him now?"

"I donno Heyes." Jed admitted. "I hope not."

"Well, if he didn't take up Jesse's offer, what else has he got?" Heyes reasoned. "Especially if Wheat is still alive then of course Kyle's gonna run straight back to him."

"Isn't that what you and I would do?" Kid pointed out. "They're partners after all."

"I suppose."

"Isn't that what you're gonna do?" Jed needed some reassurance. "Once you get outa here, we're still partners aren't we?"

Heyes met Jed's eye for the second time.

"Yeah." He agreed. "Yeah, Kid. We're still partners."

Jed smiled, feeling some relief. "Then you're not that mad at me?"

Heyes grinned until his dimples shone through. Jed suddenly reminded him of that yellow haired, blued eyed younger cousin who so much wanted Hannibal's friendship and approval. How could he resist?

"No Kid." He admitted. "I'm not really mad at ya'. I guess it was just my ego telling me I was supposed to be mad. You know how I hate it when other people thrash one of my well laid out plans."

Jed's smile turned into a grin. "Yeah, I know Heyes. But even with your brains, sometimes your plans just have too many holes in them to be feasible."

"I donno Kid!" Heyes continued to grin allowing a little bit of cheekiness to sneak into it. "If it's a 'Hannibal Heyes' plan it's gotta be good!"

Kid snorted. "Yeah? What about the Ansleyburg Plan where we only got $10 a piece outa that safe. And what about the Handford plan, where I got shot in the leg? And what about...'

"Alright, alright!" Heyes admitted defeat. "You're never gonna let me forget about that one are ya'?"

Jed smiled at his partner. "Anything to keep ya' humble Heyes."

That evening when Kenny was doing his final walk by before heading home himself, he stopped at the door to Heyes' cell and couldn't help but smile.

The inmate had bundled himself up in warm sweaters and socks, his scarf and a toque not to mention wrapping himself in as many blankets as he could find. Then he had settled into this warm cocoon and had instantly fallen asleep. And even though Kenny couldn't see Mouse anywhere on the cot, from somewhere within those layered depths there emitted a contented purring that reverberated throughout the cell.

It was a good thing that Jed and David got that visit in while they still could. Three days later the sky clouded over into a steel-gray and the first snows started to fall. Everyone hunkered down for yet another winter and travel was instantly limited to local visiting or only if it was vitally important to be somewhere.

Belle as usual was busy getting Christmas presents ready although the ones for Joshua had already been delivered by Thaddeus even though Joshua himself would not be receiving them until the day. But, of course with all the extra necessities that come with holidays, there's still all of her usual chores to be done and she was very thankful that Beth was still living at home and could help out.

Jay was getting to be quite the mischievous little boy and was now at an age where snow meant fun and hadn't progressed into hard work yet and was constantly pestering any of the adults to come outside to play.

Even when the Gibson's would come to visit, it was hard for Jay to be patient with his younger friend and even though Nathan did his best to keep up he still just wasn't quite as quick on his feet as Jay was. Jed felt some sympathy for the youngster and watching the toddler trying so hard to please his older friend brought back a flood of memories for the ex-outlaw. Life just seems to travel in circles sometimes.

Thanksgiving was pleasant enough with the Gibson's coming out for the day and everyone helping out with the meal preparations and clean-up—not to mention consuming of. After the noontime meal, the two boys went outside to play in the yard, much the the enjoyment of Ellie, the new hound dog. Her excited barking mingling in with the high-pitched laughter of the boys just seemed to make this particular Thanksgiving special for Jed. It brought back the memories of him and Han playing out in the yard in the snow, on the holidays and he could not help but hope that soon, maybe Heyes would be with them again and he would be able to find some pleasure in this world like they used to.

"Hello Jed!" Miranda called out to him. "You're long ago and far away! What were you thinking about?"

"Oh! No, sorry. Nothing." Jed lied.

"He was thinking about Hannibal again." Beth informed the room. "Whenever he gets that far-away look you know he's thinking about Hannibal."

"Oh." Jed stated again, a little sheepishly this time. He hadn't realized that he was that transparent. "Sorry. It's just days like this, when we're all sitting around the table after a nice dinner with good company—yeah, it does get me thinking about Heyes and how much he would enjoy this."

Belle smiled. "Well hopefully he will be able to join us here soon. I'm just so relieved that he's found a way to hold on now and that's what I'm giving thanks for on this day of thanksgiving!"

"I'll drink to that." Jed agreed and everybody raised their glasses of hot cider to toast the fact that Heyes was actually still alive. Heyes himself would probably be quite embarrassed if he realized all this sentiment being spread around the table on his account.

"It's a good thing he's back to helping out at the infirmary." David commented. "I know it's hard for him right now—full of sad memories, I'm sure. But that will pass and he'll begin to feel better for it. Feel useful again."

"Yup." Jed confirmed. "Kenny had to push him into it, but like you say; at least he's doing it again. Hopefully he'll settle into the routine and start to get something out of it. Miller seems like an okay fella."

"Yes." David showed some enthusiasm. "He's very bright and learns quickly. The only down side to that is that he may eventually find the prison infirmary too limiting and move on to open his own practice elsewhere. Still, you can't blame a young man for wanting to move ahead."

"I suppose." Jed agreed. "As long as he gets Heyes on the mend first."

David smiled at Jed's limited focus; Hannibal Heyes was the only one that mattered to Jed Curry. After Heyes was doing better, Jed didn't really care what Miller did.

"He will." The doctor assure his friend.

"Is Joshua going to services again?" Belle asked.

"Ahh, I don't think so." Jed told her. "He's still not himself. He's really depressed. Says he's just hanging on now for the sake of others because he just doesn't care anymore."

"Oh, that's sad." Miranda sympathized. "I mean, I do realize how depression can take hold, goodness knows when I lost my husband it just seemed as though there was nothing left anymore. But if he can just hold on—life could get good again."

"It's pretty hard from inside a prison." Jed commented. "Not much hope to hold on to. Everything we've done to try and get him released just hasn't worked and it's getting harder and harder to stay positive. For him and for me."

"Don't you go giving up on us Jed." Jesse gave him a slight reprimand. "I just finished giving Hannibal a pep talk, do I need to broker one for you too?"

Jed smiled. "No Jesse, I'm still in the game."

"So am I!" Beth announced as she gave her man a smile and held his hand under the table. Jed grinned.

"Well I'm certainly still sending out prayers for him." Belle assured everyone. "Even if he doesn't want to acknowledge them himself."

"I'm still in the game." David put in his support. "I'd like to see him released just so that I can start working on those damaged muscles of his. Dr. Miller is certainly going to be doing a lot for him but I would still feel better if I were doing it."

Tricia rolled here eyes. "There you go again." She jokingly accused her husband. "You have to do everything yourself, don't you. Just can't leave one of your patients in the care of another doctor. You just finished saying that Dr. Miller is quite competent and yet you won't trust him."

Her husband smiled in recognition of his own trait. "Yes okay!" He conceded. "I suppose even I can't be everywhere at once."

"Very true Dear." Tricia praised him for actually accepting that. "Besides, you left him your book on the matter, didn't you?"

"Yes. I just hope he'll have time to read it."

"Your book?" Jed asked. "You mean, one you bought or one you wrote?"

"Oh, it's one I wrote." David admitted. "Most of the treatments I've done on you and now on Hannibal are quite new. There just isn't much documented about it, so yes; I wrote a manual describing the technique."

Tricia snorted at her husband's modesty.

"Not much documented!" She repeated with a touch of disdain. "David there was nothing documented! You developed that technique all on your own! Take some credit for goodness sakes!"

Everyone at the table looked incredulous.

"That was all your own technique?!" Jed asked.

David nodded. "Well, to some degree. I read up on what other physicians wrote about damaged muscle tissue and then just took the treatments a couple of steps further."

"Geesh!" Jed exclaimed. "No wonder none of the other doctors who treated me knew what I was talking about! And calling you a looney!"

"Yes, well." David smiled a little self-consciously. "When you developed new ideas there are always going to be those who disagree, or don't understand it. I've received both praise and criticism for that book I left with Dr. Miller. Still; I know it works—so..."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Miranda offered. "I don't even know the man, but I'm feeling somewhat at loose ends here and he sounds like someone who is worth helping."

"You can help me send out more fliers." Beth suggested. "And letters to the governor—it worked before. I'm sure that if we just keep at it, they're going to get fed up and start paying attention. Bridget was helping me, but I suppose she has other things on her mind now."

There was general amusement around the table on that comment.

"I do think that is a fair assumption Missy." Belle agreed with her younger daughter. "Having a husband and a household, and now a little one on the way..." Then Belle stopped smiling and she became contemplative herself. "I do wish she was here and not in Denver. I worry about her being there on her own."

"She's not on her own." Jesse reminded his wife. "Steven is with her and though David here is the best doctor in the whole territory, I do believe they have some fine medical men in Denver as well."

David laughed. "Thanks for your vote of confidence." He said. "But yes, you're right. There are some fine doctors and midwives in Denver. Try not to worry too much about her Belle; she's young and healthy. She'll do fine."

Belle smiled and nodded, but was still going to worry none the less. Then the front door burst open and two exhilarated but cold boys tumbled into the front room and demanded attention.

Half an hour later the two boys were drinking hot cider and the three men were settled in the living room to discuss ranch business and plans for the spring sales while the four women visited in the kitchen while doing the cleaning up. It did seem that four pairs of hands were a bit superfluous but it was the discussion that was taking presidence and the cleaning up was just an excuse to compare notes.

"So what is Mr. Heyes like?" Miranda was asking the group in general. "I remember reading about the trials of course and I thought that he sounded like quite a scoundrel and probably deserved to go to prison—despite those rather entrancing dark eyes. But now, hearing the way you all talk about him—is there more to it than that?"

"Well, I never met him." Tricia admitted. "But I know I was very sceptical of Jed at first. You know, his reputation as a gunman and all that. I really wasn't comfortable at all with David befriending him the way he did. But once I got to know him, well—he's actually very different from what you would expect. Is that what one could expect from Mr. Heyes as well Belle? After all they are partners."

Belle became contemplative, thinking about the best way to answer that question.

"Yes, they are partners." She conceded. "But I would say that the similarities between the two men end there. Considering Thaddeus' background, it seems contradictory to describe him as gentle, but for a man—he is. He's quiet, keeps to himself and is usually quite level headed—though he can show a temper at times." She looked up from the dishes then and thought about the dark haired enigma. "Now Joshua—there's nothing quiet about him. He walks into a room and you know he's there, he doesn't even have to do anything; he has such a powerful presence. But he can be kind too and gentle. Still, he's a natural leader and will take control of a situation without even realizing he's doing it. That's probably why he and Thaddeus had such a successful partnership! It's certainly not that Thaddeus defers to Joshua, I think it's more that they each acknowledge and respect the others abilities and they simply complement one another."

"Well if Joshua—Hannibal...what should I call him?" Miranda sounded frustrated. "You all refer to both men by different names! How in the world do you keep it straight!?"

Mother and daughter exchanged humorous looks and Belle laughed.

"I know!" She sympathized. "I suppose it would be confusing to someone who hasn't known them long. I got to know them first as Joshua and Thaddeus who were just two drifters who brought some light into our lives, so I suppose I like to think of them in that way. I know everyone else has switched over to their legal names, but—well, I don't think either of them mind which ones you use. Which ever one you're most comfortable with."

"I know the Sister out at the prison still calls them Joshua and Thaddeus." Beth piped in. "I think they kind of like it. And Clementine refers to them as Heyes and Kid, which I think is a little strange since she has known them since they were children, but..." Beth shrugged. "I guess it's just what she's used to."

"When I first met Jed, he gave me a whole list of names I could call him by." Randa recalled with a smile. "But I suppose I've settled onto 'Jed'. But 'Hannibal'! I don't know. I remember looking at his picture in the newspaper and thinking that his name was such a mouthful and well...too big for him, if that makes any sense."

Belle laughed again. "Wait until you meet him! You might change your mind. Like I said, he takes over a room simply by entering it. He may be average in stature but he's large in personality." Then she became quiet again, and a little sad. "Still, I don't know what prison has done to him. I know Thaddeus says that he's changed, that they broke him. I hope not. I hope that once we get him home again we can help him to heal."

"For a man who is used to being in control like that, prison must have been very hard for him to adjust to." Miranda surmised. "I hope we can bring about his release soon." Then she smiled. "You'll note I said 'we'! I guess I'm committed to the cause now! Besides, you all have my curiosity aroused and I'm just going to have to meet this man!"

Beth liked the sound of that.

Kyle took the train into Montana. He usually couldn't afford such luxury but the retainer that the lawyer had handed over to him was more than enough to allow some splurging. On top of that, if he was going to meet up with Wheat before the snows began to fall then he would have to be quick about it and the train was a lot faster than coach or horseback.

He arrived at the small town of West Bend, Montana just in time for the first snow flakes to start falling and hoped that he hadn't left things too late. Still, the first snow didn't usually pile up to be too much so he should still be able to meet up with his partner and get settled into the hideout before the weather got too inconvenient.

He booked himself into the hotel, almost using an alias out of habit, but then realized that he wasn't a wanted man anymore so could use his real name without cause for concern. It felt weird but kinda nice too and he gave a toothy grin as made his mark. Truth be known, anyone reading the ledger wouldn't have been able to make heads or tails out of Kyle's so-called writing anyways so it really wouldn't have matter what he wrote. But to his mind, it was his name.

The next morning he bought himself some breakfast and then headed over to the livery to look into buying a horse and then supplies for the ride into the hills. It was cold as he bundled himself up and stepped out-of-doors and decided to head over to the mercantile first to buy himself a winter coat and some gloves before going to stand around a cold barn looking at horses.

He'd just finished that task and was comfortably settled into his new lined coat when a rather scruffy looking individual approached him and stopped him on the street corner.

"You Murtry?" The man asked.

"Yeah, what of it?" Kyle asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Nothin'!" The stranger snarled back. "But a friend a' yours sent me ta meet up with ya'! If ya' don't wanna come—well that's yer business."

"A friend a' mine?" Kyle asked, wondering who this tramp was.

"Yeah." He answered, then leaned in close and lowered his voice. "You know—Carlson."

"Oh! Wul why didn't ya say so!" Kyle shot back at him. "An' why didn't he come hisself?"

"He ain't up to it." The man answered. "Cold weather an' all—you know."

"Whaddaya mean? Ain't up to it?" Kyle asked suddenly concerned. "What's wrong with 'im?"

"He just don't feel good!" The man snarled, getting irritated. "You comin' or not?"

"Wul yeah, I'm comin'." Kyle answered, feeling a little put out that this stranger was yellin' at him. "I still gotta git me a horse though."

"Fine, let's go."

The ride up into the hills wasn't exactly the most pleasant since Kyle's companion was not exactly the socializing type. He volunteer that his name was Harold but that's about as far as it went and most of that cold trip was made in silence.

When they finally did make it to the hideout, even the horses were relieved to have arrived—somewhere. They were hungry and cold too and there was the definite warning of more snow in the air so the sooner they all got under cover the better.

The hideout itself didn't look too bad. It was laid out pretty similar to what Devil's Hole had been, just not quite as many outbuildings as the Hole had sported. Still, the buildings that were there were a good size and appeared quite solid so wintering here shouldn't be too much of a hardship so long as there were enough supplies.

The two saddle horses and one pack horse all made a bee line for the barn just as more snow began to fall and the two men made haste to stiffly dismount and get everybody all under cover. Harold pushed open the barn door and they were met with the welcoming nickers from a number of horses who were already settled in for the evening. The barn smelled of hay and horses, and surprisingly enough for an outlaw residence, it smelled clean as well. Kyle hoped that bode good things and happily led his horse into the allotted stall and began to untack him. Harold did the same with his animals and then threw everybody some hay and a bit of grain after their hard ride, and then began to stack the supplies he'd brought back with them over in the corner to be put away in the morning.

Both men then headed outdoors again and Harold motioned Kyle over towards the leader's cabin. Night was closing in on them and the snow was beginning to come down in earnest now and everything smelled clean and fresh, but after their long ride all Kyle wanted to do was get settled somewhere and have something hot to eat. The leader's cabin looked very inviting though Kyle doubted he would be spending very much time in there. Probably just going to meet the boss.

Sure enough, the two men stepped up onto the porch and Harold knocked a couple of times on the front door and waited for the response to come in. Once they stepped inside they got hit with a wave of warmth coming from the wood stove over in the cooking area followed by the enticing aroma of simmering beans and fried bacon, not to mention coffee.

A middle aged man got up from the table where he'd been reading a paper and came over to greet the newcomers.

"Mr. Roberts, this here is Kyle Murtry." Harold introduced him.

"Mr. Murtry! Glad you could make it." Roberts greeted him and shook his hand. "Welcome to 'Robert's Roost!" He added, with a grin at what he thought was an amusing name for their hideout. "You hungry?"

"Wul, yeah." Kyle admitted, but feeling a little dubious. "But war's Wheat?"

"He's just laying down." Roberts explained. "He'll be out in a minute. C'mon, take off your coat, have a seat."

"If that's all Mr. Roberts, I'll be headin' over to the bunk house." Harold said. "Supplies are in the barn. Put 'em away tomorra'."

"That's fine Harold. Thank you for your help."

"Yeah."

"Come Mr. Murtry, have a seat." Roberts guided Kyle over to the table and encouraged him to settle in. "How was prison life? You don't seem to be much the worse for wear."

"Naw, it was okay." Kyle commented, still looking around and feeling a little awkward. "Nice place ya' got here."

"It does." Roberts agreed. "Nothing like Devil's Hole though—or so I've been told."

"Yeah."

"Too bad about all that."

"Yeah."

"How's Heyes?"

"Alive."

"Oh yes. Well, that's good. So...Carlson tells me you've got a bit of a stake with ya'."

"Yeah." Kyle nodded as he sat down and started to tuck into the beans and bacon. "Enough ta pay for my keep."

"Plus a bit more. Or so I understand."

"Yeah, a bit more."

Roberts smiled. "Good. It could be a tough winter, and with two more people to feed, well every little bit helps. Not to mention your partner's medical expenses tended to add up."

Kyle frowned. "Whatcha mean?"

Just then one of the doors to a side bedroom creaked open and Wheat put in an appearance, slowly making his way over to the table. Kyle's face lit up with pleasure at seeing his partner and he got to his feet to greet him.

"Hey Wheat!" But then the grin on Kyle's face dropped back to the frown and he furrowed his brown with concern. "Jeez Wheat, you don't look so good."

Indeed, Wheat Carlson was not quite the same man whom Kyle remembered from eighteen months ago. He had dropped weight and his complexion was pale and tired looking. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was walking with a limp so he was using a cane in order to assist him in getting over to the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down before returning his friend's greeting.

"Howdy Kyle." He mumbled. "Glad you could make it."

"Yeah." Kyle answered as he sat back down himself. "You doin' okay Wheat?"

"Better than I was." Wheat answered him. "How about you? Don't look like prison was too hard on ya'."

"No, it was alright." Kyle told him. "Looks like you mighta done better there yourself. You gonna be alright?"

"Yeah." Wheat assured him. "Just need a little more time is all. Take it easy through the winter and next spring I'll be right as rain."

"Uh huh." Kyle didn't sound too convinced. "Dang Wheat! What all happened to ya'!?"

Roberts put a plate of beans in front of Wheat and passed out coffee to the two men and then one for himself.

"I'll leave you two fellas to get caught up." He offered. "I got some reading to do anyways." Then he grabbed the newspaper and got himself settled into one of the armchairs to let the two friends get reacquainted.

"Well, I'll tell ya' Kyle." Wheat began. "I thought for sure that I was dead. The last thing I remember was sinking down into that river and the darkness overtaking me—and I was just fine with that. I hadn't expected anything else so...that was okay. But then sometimes life just don't go the way you expect...

"You remember that youngster; Quint Redmond?"

Kyle looked blank.

"C'mon—ya' gotta remember him!" Wheat prodded. "We all thought that his name was a joke cause he was so covered in freckles and red hair; we all called him 'Red Man'!"

"OH Yeah!" Kyle grinned, pleased with himself that he actually remembered the fella." Yeah! He was during Big Jim's time."

"Yeah, that's him." Wheat agreed. "Remember he quit—decided that outlawing wasn't for him and he up and got married and settled down there along the Colorado River,"

"Wul, yeah—sorta. Lost track of 'im though. Thought he moved on."

"Well, he did." Wheat informed his partner. "But then he and his family ended up settling on some land not too far from Devil's Hole. And wouldn't ya' know; that's who found me looking like a drowned rat and all hung up in some dead fall in that river. He drug me outa there and then went for help. He's got two sons now and a daughter and they came back for me with the buckboard and got me back to there place.

"They remembered me from the old days and of course had heard all about that bastard Morrison and what he done to our little hideaway!" Kyle nodded regretfully. "So when they come acrost me all full of holes and near drowned, well they thought nothin' a haulin' me home and patchin' me up! They didn't feel inclined to report anything to the local sheriff either."

"Wul that sure was lucky!" Kyle stated the obvious. "We all thought you was done fer—until ya' got that message to me that is. I dang near fell over; gettin' a letter from ya' while I's in prison." Then he chortled with amusement at how everybody else had been so hood winkled. "Ole' Heyes and Kid they both thought I should be greivin' more, but you know how I am at fakin' things!"

"Yeah, I know." Wheat practically cringed. "Fortunately we pulled it off anyways."

The grin dropped from Kyle's face. "Wul, sorta." He mumbled.

"Well now, what's that supposed to mean Kyle!?" Wheat demanded, then started to cough as his stress level rose. "You sayin' there's people know I'm still alive!?"

"Wul, yeah I guess." Kyle squirmed uncomfortably. "I guess Kid did kinda figure it out." Wheat groaned, but Kyle brightened up and started grinning again. "Yeah, but they ain't gonna tell nobody! They want it to stay quiet."

"They?" Wheat questioned suspiciously. "Who else knows!?"

"Oh, well...I suppose Heyes knows if Kid does—ya' know that kinda goes hand in hand." Kyle reasoned. "And wul, I suppose that lawyer fella knows..."

"Lawyer fella!?" Wheat's voice rose until he started coughing again. He took a swig of coffee and tried to calm down. "My whole plan was to stay dead. Rest up here for the winter and then maybe head to Canada. I don't need no lawyer fella knowin' I'm still alive!"

"Canada?" Was all that Kyle had latched onto. "Watcha wanna go ta Canada fer, Wheat?"

"Cause I wanna disappear, that's what fer!" Wheat stated in a half whisper. "I was mainly hanging around until you got out—but if you don't wanna go..."

"Oh I didn't say that!" Kyle was quick to put in his denial, not wanting his partner to sneak off and leave him behind. "It's just that..."

"What?"

"Wul, Kid and that lawyer fella wanted me to hang around these parts fer awhile." Kyle hesitantly explained, not sure if he was supposed to be telling anybody about this arrangement, even his partner. "They want me ta stay on the look out fer somebody."

"Who?"

"Wul, it seems they need ta get hold of one of them inmates who broke outa the prison last summer." Kyle explained. "On account a' he knows somethin' that could help Heyes."

"What's that arrogant little blow-hard got hisself into this time!?" Wheat complained. "He's always gettin' hisself into trouble and we're always gettin' 'em outa it! What the hell he's gone and done now!?"

"Wul nothin'!" Kyle felt the need to defend his 'boss'. "That's jest the point. Seems the prison Doc got killed during that break-out and everybody's blamin' Heyes fer it! But this Harris fella was there and he seen what happened! He could clear Heyes, but he's disappeared so now Kid and this lawyer fella has asked me to settle in fer the winter and keep my ears open—that's all."

"Harris? Carl Harris?" Wheat asked somewhat incredulously.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Dang it Kyle! You don't havta go lookin' fer him—he's right here!"

"What!?"

"Yeah, yeah." Wheat reiterated. "He rode in a couple a weeks ago—lookin' ta' winter with us and since he had some supplies and money with him; well, the more the merrier sometimes. He's just over in the bunkhouse."

"What!?" Kyle repeated. "Wul—I should go talk ta' him!"

"Naw, naw." Wheat put out a hand to stop the little man from going off half cocked. "Let's just wait and see what the morning brings. We don't wanna spook 'im and have him go runnin' off before we can find out what he knows. Let's just wait until the weather gets too bad fer any long distance excursions and then we'll just see if we can get him talking."

Kyle sat back down at the table and grinned.

"You sure is smart Wheat." He praised his friend. "Yeah. We'll jest wait and find out what he knows later on—once he trusts us."

"How about some more beans and bacon Kyle."

This was met by a big toothy grin. "Sure!"

Heyes was back in the laundry room, once again taking over those duties whether he wanted to or not.

Although, truth be known he was kind of glad to be doing this job on this day since the temperatures inside the prison and out were dipping down to freezing and the snow that was already on the ground would soon be covered over by even more. Another winter had settled in, another Christmas just around the corner. Life went on.

Heyes didn't really know how he was feeling about things in general, he was still getting used to the idea that he was actually still here and carrying on. He had gotten his mind so conditioned to the idea of ending everything that his life now seemed almost surreal, that he was an interloper, treading on forbidden ground; as though he wasn't supposed to be here.

Sister Julia commented that he should see each new day as a gift now, considering how close he had come to not having anymore 'new days' but he found it hard to view living on in this place as a 'gift'. It was more like a penance—a price to be paid for having allowed his friends to break passed his defences and forcing him to acknowledge that his life was more than just about him. To accept that there was a whole network of people out there who would be devastated by his departure, especially in that way and that now, in finally realizing that fact, it had become impossible for him to carry on with his plan. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

On this particular chilly day in December, Heyes was busy folding sheets and allowing his mind to wander wherever it wanted to go. Mouse was in the corner busy grooming herself after a morning of hunting; she knew her pet project wasn't right yet so she was never far from him for long; she took pride in her responsibilities, after all. It was only when the feline's loud purring abruptly stopped that Heyes realized that she had been purring at all and he glanced over at her, wondering what had caused the cessation.

Heyes frowned when he saw that Mouse had taken on a defensive stance; her ears were back and her hackles were rising and Heyes could hear a quiet rumbling coming from deep in her throat—then she hissed. He followed the cat's antagonized glare over towards the door and then his own blood turned to ice and a knee weakening fear washed over him. Carson and Thompson were standing there and smiling at him, their bully clubs out and ready for use!

Oh no...what had he done? Heyes racked his brains to try and recall some transgression to somehow explain this new assault, but he couldn't think of anything. His eyes went to the broom that was resting in the corning, but almost as quickly as the thought of using it as a weapon came into his mind, it was vetoed as being inappropriate. Any aggressive move on his part would only make the beating worse—oh Jeez! They might even hang him again! OH NO! Be submissive—don't look at them, don't provoke them in any way.

Carson smiled, seeing the range of emotions flash across Heyes' face before finally settling on surrender.

"Morning Heyes." The senior guard acknowledged him with a bit of a condescending edge to his voice. "Just thought I would take this opportunity to come and have a word with you. Had to wait until Officer Reece had a day off; that man has been getting a little bit above himself these days."

Heyes didn't respond but this wasn't sounding good. He took note of Thompson moving around to block him from making any move towards the door and he had been effectively backed into a corner. He could still hear Mouse growling and her tail had begun to lash back and forth, but the two guards ignored her.

"I seem to recall you accusing me of cold-blooded murder Heyes." Carson pointed out. "So I couldn't help but be curious as to whether or not we're going to have a little problem with this. Are we going to have a problem with this Heyes?"

"No sir."

"No sir." Carson mimicked with a touch of scorn. "And why not? Are you going to accept responsibility for it in order to help you on your way to the other side? It would be most convenient if you did."

"No sir." Heyes answered again and then took the chance that he had permission to elaborate; Carson had asked 'why not?' after all. "I didn't do it. Boeman did it. It's as simple as that."

"It's as simple as that." Carson again repeated Heyes' words. "Then why in tarnation did you start yelling accusations at me? Those were dangerous words Heyes, words that could get me into trouble."

"Yessir." Heyes admitted, still staring at the floor. "I was wrong to do that and I apologize. I was confused sir—not in my right mind. I know now that it wasn't you, it was Boeman."

"Well, alright then." Carson relented. "Glad you're back to seeing reason. The warden and I have discussed this situation and we have decided to back off the accusation that it was you who did the deed so long as we are agreeable that Boeman committed the crime and that he did it on his own—no inside help. Are we agreed?"

Heyes hesitated. He knew darn well that the prison break had been an inside job. For some reason or other Carson had set it up and Boeman had simply been the puppet, the stooge. And obviously the plan, whatever that had been, ended up backfiring and Boeman had simply been gotten out of the way. Heyes felt stuck. He knew there was more going on here than met the eye, but to make a stand about it now would only result in punishment and he just wasn't up to taking any more of that. He did the smart thing and he relented.

"Yes sir." He whispered quietly, though it stuck in his craw. "We are agreed."

"Good." Came the response. Then Carson smiled again. "Glad to see you've finally learned the rules around here Heyes. It took some doing, but we finally got ya' to understand. Just keep on remembering who's boss and you'll do fine."

"Yessir."

Then, much to Heyes relief, Carson and Thompson backed out of the laundry room and went about their daily routine. Heyes sighed and leaned back against the wall. His knees felt like melted butter and he was bathed in a cold sweat. He hated feeling so afraid, so helpless but there was nothing else for it. He had finally come to realize that if he was going to survive in here then he was going to have to submit because fighting back was only going to get him killed—or crippled. And all of a sudden, he realized that he really didn't want either of those things to happen.

His knees finally gave out on him and he sank down to the floor to recover from the scare, and taking deep breaths he gradually was able to calm down the shaking and convince his stomach to stay settled and not turn over on him. Mouse came over and with her purr in full swing once again, she rubbed against his legs and then stepped onto his lap and leaned into him until he unconsciously began to stroke her and he started to calm down.

Christmas came and went and Heyes took some pleasure in the services and in receiving his gifts, not only from home but from the orphans and the convent as well. Many of the warm articles of clothing that he had received his first year here had begun to wear out so it was greatly appreciated to be given replacements for them. And of course Belle's homemade cookies and Christmas cake was always a treat. Heyes even managed to sneak some over to Kenny this time around.

Things seemed to have settled down again for the deep freeze. The warden had backed off of his line of offence, deciding that the pressure on him to produce proof of Heyes' guilt was getting too hot to make it worthwhile. If the plan had gone smoothly then Heyes would have been dead himself and therefore nobody around to contradict—except Harris that is. Damn! How could a man just so totally disappear from the landscape?

Again, it would have been so easy if all of those escapees had been disposed of, but no; one of them just had to get away on them—and then disappear! Now he was a loose cannon and if the wrong people got hold of him first, well then everything would get shot out of the water and Mitchell would be exposed as a liar! Besides, Mitchell had no idea how much Harris actually knew—how much did Boeman actually tell him?

If Mitchell continued to press this issue then Heyes' friends would work that much harder to find the escapee and then goodness knows what that man would say to save his own skin! Can't have that! Better to cut the losses now and get onto the winning side. Why not agree that Boeman had done the killing? Two people who were still alive saw him stick the doctor and since Boeman was dead himself and couldn't raise a protest, well, it seemed the logical thing to do.

The weather was cold and crisp when 1889 made its appearance. Heyes had been in the prison now for over four years and he was coming up on his thirty-ninth birthday. He felt old and decrepit and useless and he had given up any hope of ever finding a way out of this misery called a life. And though he knew that he didn't really want to die anymore, the alternative to go on living was proving to be just as difficult as initially expected.

He tried to make the best of it. He put in his time at the infirmary, did his day in the laundry room and even tried going to services again on a regular basis. He'd read his books, respond to his letters and even let Dr. Miller and associates poke and prod his shoulders, but his depression was acute and overwhelming. It's not that he wanted to feel that way; he didn't want to. He was tired of feeling lethargic and useless, that every day was just one more day that he had to drag himself through, but he just didn't know how to bring himself out of it.

Mouse was about the only one who could bring a smile to his face these days and she did everything she could to keep him entertained. She had introduced a new game for them to play together simply by snatching up a pair of balled up socks and batting it around the cell floor. Heyes would watch her and laugh at her antics and then he picked the ball up and threw it into the air and she'd jump up and grab it in mid leap.

Then upon landing she would trot over to her project and drop the socks as his feet, like a dog waiting for the ball to be tossed again, and Heyes would comply. He marvelled at her dexterity as she'd leap into the air and grab the socks with her front paws, twisting and turning in aerial acrobatics and then landing with a loud 'thump' and trot over to him and ask him to throw it again—and he would.

He'd even gotten into the habit of bringing his supper back to his cell in the evenings rather than stay in the mess hall. This way he not only had the dinner companion of his choice, but he liked to be able to share whatever was on the menu and Mouse was more than happy to oblige him.

He never would have thought it possible but that little non-discript gray tabby cat had become his life-line. The one thing that gave him a sense of purpose, gave him something to look after and who would give her affection unconditionally and without any expectation of him having to conform to any rules. The fact that as far as Mouse was concerned, she was the one looking after him never came up between them. Of all the things that they discussed, that was not one of them. He was quite content to have something to look after and she was quite content to let him believe that he was.

And so the winter crept by. Heyes' birthday came and went along with some birthday parcels from home that actually made it to the prison albeit a little late. Still it was nice to get the letters from everyone; to hear about how the various youngsters were doing and Bridget's joy and frustration with her familial condition. He'd laugh over the described antics of the horses out playing in the snow and Karma chasing her children around like they were still foals with ole' Buck, the quintessential uncle, doing his best to keep up.

He appreciated the replenished supply of writing paper and pens and ink (well wrapped up against breakage, of course.) and more cookies and more sweaters and hats to replace those that were wearing out. Kid even sent him a new deck of cards, rightly assuming that the initial deck would also be worn out by now.

Yes, Heyes appreciated these things being sent to him, but it also made him melancholy. How many more times would he need to have writing paper replenished, sweaters and socks and mitts to be replaced? How many more children were going to be born that he would never see grow up? How many more lifetimes would pass him by while he sat in here and wasted away?

And he'd lay on his cot and munch his cookies and read his letters and pat 'his' cat and he'd feel old and decrepit and useless. And the winter crept on.

Spring finally put in a wet appearance and Jed was anticipating his first trip of the year back into Wyoming to visit his cousin. Kenny had sent the occasional telegram just to let them all know that the situation was status qua. Heyes was no longer suicidal and was settling back into his normal routine, but he was anything but 'fine'. A depression still lingered and was showing no signs of abating, in fact the only one to really get more than a one word response from him was the cat.

Jed would get a bit of a chuckle out of that last bit because Heyes had always kind of disliked cats, but any port in a storm at this point. If Heyes was finding some comfort in the company of a feline then Jed certainly wasn't going to argue it.

Then two communications came to him that were disappointing, almost to the extent where he wanted to go out and get drunk again. But then he would remember the lecture he got from Jesse on that account and decided to go vent to David instead.

The first communication was from Kyle, though it was written by Wheat since Kyle couldn't write so I suppose it would be fair to say that it was from both of them.

_Kid;_

_Harris was here threw most of the winter, but done took off as soon as the snow started ta' melt. Dont knew where's to. Mabe Canada?_

_We tried talkin' ta' him about prison an' all that, but he would just clam up and say nothin' much. Whenever Heyes' name got mentioned he d just snarl and call 'em an a**hole. Especially if'en we was sayin' good things about 'em._

_If ya' do find 'em and get 'em ta be of help to ya—it shore ain't gonna be willin'._

_Ky_**_le_ **

Then the telegram from Lom came and Jed found himself instantly deflated and feeling about as hopeless as ever in this rollercoaster ride of a rescue mission.

_Kid. P. Harrison re-instated F. Warren as Gov. of Why. Have appointment for Apr. 10th. BE THERE! Lom._

Jed groaned and scrunched up the paper in disgust and threw it in the waste basket. Of all the bad rotten luck! Warren again! What bloody good was he gonna be to them!? He was just gonna throw them out of his office yet again and have nothing to do with any of them! And how long was he going to be Governor now? He could hold the office for years! Dammit!

Clayt stood behind his desk and watched this theatrical performance of anger and frustration play out in front of him, but he knew better than to ask what was up when this particular man was in a mood. He'd hear all about it sooner or later; he always did.

Jed ignored Clayt and stomped out of the office, thinking that he needed a drink but then as mentioned before he thought better of it and headed over to David's place instead. It was Saturday—maybe he'd be home.

Knock, knock knock! "Hello! Anybody home?"

"Yes Jed!" Came Tricia's voice. "Come on in!"

Jed followed instructions and entered into the kitchen area to find Tricia in the middle of giving Nathan his mid-morning bath. Nathan was having a great time splashing water everywhere and wiggling and squirming and trying to stand up in the wash tub as though his mother had nothing better to do than try to keep him from falling onto the floor.

Miranda was sitting at the table enjoying the spectacle and at the same time feeling somewhat relieved that she and her husband had never had children. She turned sparkling eyes and a bright smile towards the visitor while Tricia's greeting was somewhat more bedraggled.

"Good morning ladies." Jed greeted them.

"Morning Jed." Came the unified feminine response.

"Un'ka Ed!" Came from the wash tub.

Jed smiled at the boy's attempt to articulate. "Hey there young man! I think you've got more water outside the tub than ya' do in!"

"YEAH!" Came the joyous response followed by some more boisterous splashing and flying water.

Trish sent Jed a look and Miranda found the whole situation quite amusing.

"Is David home?" Jed finally asked.

"Yes, he's in the study." Tricia informed him. "Go on in."

Jed nodded to them and then made his way down the hall to the study and knocked on the door.

"Hi Jed, come on in!"

Jed opened the door and went inside.

"Morning David. How did you know it was me?" Jed asked as he headed over to one of the chairs.

David stretched and pushed himself away from his paperwork.

"I heard your voice." He informed his friend. "What's up? Any more news from the prison?"

"No." Jed admitted with a frustrated sigh. "But I did get a telegram from Lom."

"Oh oh." David mumbled, having taken note of the scowl on his friend's face. "Not good news I take it."

"That's for sure." Jed complained. "Jeez! Things just keep going from bad to worse! No wonder Heyes is depressed! I don't blame him! And he doesn't even know about this yet!"

"What?"

"Frances Warren, that's what!" Jed told him. "That bastard's been re-instated as governor of Wyoming! I mean—that's it; we're done for!" And Jed slapped the arms of his chair and then stood up and started pacing. "That's the same bastard who sent Heyes to prison in the first place! 'One of you had to be thrown to the wolves Mr. Curry—just be thankful it wasn't you!' Goddammit! We're done for! He's not even gonna want to see us let alone listen to reason!

"I don't know what else to do David! All this talk about a new President and how he's probably going to be replacing a number of the territorial governors, so just hang on. 'There's bound to be someone new coming into office who might be willing to see things our way.' Yeah right! Now with all this talk of Wyoming moving into statehood the last thing Warren's gonna want to do is give Hannibal Heyes a pardon!" Then Jed threw up his hands in frustration and sat down again with a humph and snarl. "We're done for!" He repeated.

David had sat quietly throughout this verbal barrage and allowed his friend time to vent and get everything out that he needed to get out.

"So what does Sheriff Trevor's say?" He asked once he was sure Jed was done. "Does he have a plan?"

"Yeah." Jed sighed. "He's already set up an appointment for us to meet with Warren next month—for all the good it's gonna do."

"Well, obviously Sheriff Trevor's hasn't given up, sooo..."

"It's grasping at straws." Jed mumbled.

"Still, what else are you going to do?" David reasoned. "You may as well try. What's the worse that can happen?"

"Just throw us out of his office." Jed snapped. "Refuse to see us!"

"If he was going to do that, why would he have agreed to an appointment in the first place?" David continued to be reasonable. He knew Jed well enough to know that sometimes all his friend needed was someone to haul him back down to earth. "I think it's safe to say that the governor knows what the meeting is going to be about. If he wasn't willing to even discuss it then it's likely that he would not have agreed to meet with you in the first place. Why would he waste his time?"

"Yeah." Jed conceded that there might be some truth in that. "I suppose."

"C'mon." Said David as he pushed himself to his feet. "I could do with some coffee and it's almost lunch time. Why don't you stay and have a bite to eat before you head back?"

"Oh. I donno, I told Sam I'd help him with some fence mending this afternoon." Jed commented.

"We won't take long." David persisted. "Besides, Miranda is riding out there to help Beth put together some fliers and I for one would feel better if she had a chaperone."

"Oh." Jed responded, not sure if he was comfortable with that arrangement, but still it was a reasonable request. "Yeah, alright."

So that is how it came about that Miranda got the opportunity to get to know Jed Curry a little bit better and though it was a damp and chilly ride out to the Jordan ranch, it turned out to be pleasant enough.

"When do you and Beth plan on marrying?" Miranda asked as they were heading out of town. "Or are you even betrothed yet?"

"What? OH! Ahh." Jed hesitated, feeling a little uncomfortable, like maybe everyone thought they were taking too long about it. "No, we're still just courting."

"Oh." Then she smiled. "I'm sorry, I've done it again haven't I?"

"What?"

"Oh, speaking out of turn." Randa explained, with a little bit of lighthearted frustration. "Everyone's always telling me that I ask 'inappropriate' questions at 'inappropriate' times! And I can tell by your reaction that I've done it again."

"Oh, no. You just took me by surprise is all." Jed assured her. "I'd rather people ask what they want to know rather then gossiping about it behind my back."

"That's my thinking exactly!" Randa agreed. "If you want to know—just ask! So; do you plan on getting married?"

Jed laughed out loud. Well, he had given her permission after all!

"Yes, we do plan on it." He informed her. "But we both agreed to wait until Heyes got released from prison first."

"Eeww." Miranda frowned. "That could be another seven years couldn't it?"

Jed sighed, his earlier smile dropping and again Miranda felt that she had over-stepped.

"It's looking more and more like it could be." Jed finally admitted. "I donno. Everybody keeps dangling carrots under our noses! 'Just wait until there's a new warden' or 'President Harrison will be replacing some of the Territorial governors so that should go in our favour'! Yeah, and then everything just turns against us again. It's getting pretty frustrating."

"Yes, I can see where it would be." Miranda conceded quietly. "So you don't think the new governor in Wyoming will be of much help?"

"No! It's the same damn governor who sentenced Heyes to life in prison in the first place! Or at least he supported that sentence and wouldn't back off of it." Jed shook his head, looking dejected and Miranda felt some sympathy towards him. "I don't see him changing his mind about it now, especially with all the hoop-laa going on about statehood."

"Oh. Do you think that you and Beth can hold out for another seven years?"

"I think the more pressing question is; can Heyes hold out another seven years." Jed corrected her. "We almost lost him last year."

"Yes, I know." Miranda again sympathized. "That was frightening—and I don't even know him!"

"Hmm."

"Well, I'm quite determined to help Beth with the fliers and letters again." She emphasized her commitment. "Beth said that it made quite a bit of difference in your case and she's not giving up—she's very tenacious!"

That got Jed laughing again. "Oh boy! You can say that again!" He agreed. "Still, I think that's one of the things I love about her. She doesn't give up."

"Yes. And you do love her don't you." Randa stated with a knowing smile.

"That's an odd thing to say." Jed frowned. "I'm courting her aren't I?"

"Oh, yes." Miranda agreed. "But many people court and marry even if they're not in love. Sometimes it's for money, sometimes it's just to get married because of family pressure. But that's not the way it is between you and Beth. You love her—I can tell."

"Oh you can tell can you?" Jed teased her.

"Yes." Randa reiterated, quite seriously. "It's in the way you look at her, the way to talk to her. The way you assist her down from the surrey, or off her horse. It's respectful, but loving and protective as well. And all you have to see is the way she smiles at you—the way her eyes light up when she looks at you..." Miranda smiled knowingly again. "Yes, you two will marry for love and you'll do fine."

Jed smiled over at her. "And you don't think the age difference is a big deal?"

"Oh good heavens, no!" Miranda sent back. "My husband was much older than me and I loved him dearly—he was one of the kindest men I'd ever known." But then her smile faded and a gentle sadness washed over her. "I miss him so much." She admitted and then sighed. "I mean, I was twenty years younger than him so I always assumed that I would out-live him, but I didn't think I would loose him quite that quickly."

Jed nodded. "How long were you married?"

"Twelve years." She smiled brightly in remembrance. "Twelve glorious years! Oh we had so much fun together—he was my best friend!"

"I'm sorry." Jed commiserated, and meant it. "To find someone that special and then to loose them so soon. That's hard."

"Yes." Randa agreed. "It's been a year and I still expect him to come walking around the corner." Then she smiled and reached over to put a gentle hand on Jed's arm. "I think Beth feels a little bit of jealousy over me."

"Oh?" Asked the oblivious male. "Why would you think that?"

"She's young and feeling a little insecure I think." Randa explained. "She loves you so much that she can't imagine other women not feeling the same way, so she feels, perhaps a little threatened—that I might have designs on you myself."

"Oh." Jed frowned. "And do you?"

"No!" Miranda was adamant. "Not that you're an unattractive man by any means! But I'm still in mourning—I know I am. I still miss my husband so much. I'm not interested in any new relationships just yet. I just thought I would let you know that so you can reassure Beth that she has nothing to worry about from me. And I suppose that's another reason I'm willing to help her with the fliers. If we can become friends then maybe she'll relax and know for herself that I'm not interested."

Jed nodded agreement. "Thank you." He said with a smile. "I suppose I hadn't really thought about that."

"Well, you've had other things on your mind." Miranda assured him. "But rest assured! I am on board 100% in our mission to get...Oh dear..." She hesitated and frowned again. "There I go stumbling over that again! I have no idea what to call your friend! It's just not fair—most people have two names and you refer to them with one or the other depending on your level of familiarity. But you two have so many different names and I really have no idea..."

Jed laughed again. This conversation really was going in ups and downs and Jed was getting the definite impression that this was typical of this particular young woman.

"Well..." Jed contemplated the answer. "I know more and more people are calling him 'Hannibal' lately, but that's not really his favourite handle. He accepts it from certain people because he knows that they care about him and they have earned the right. He prefers 'Heyes'—not 'Mr. Heyes' from his friends, just 'Heyes'. But he'll also accept 'Han'. That was my childhood name for him and I suppose it's like an endearment for someone close to him to use it now. He likes 'Joshua'. He doesn't mind at all that there are certain friends who still prefer to call him that."

He was interrupted by a heavy sigh. "That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Miranda pointed out in frustration. "He has so many names! I'm not his friend—good heavens we don't even know one another! But I'm surrounded by people who are his friends and who love him dearly! But you all call him something different! It's so frustrating!"

"Well I have just as many names as he does—more even!" Jed pointed out. "But you didn't have any trouble settling on one."

"But I'd met you." She explained. "Once I'd met you 'Jed' just came naturally."

"Okay." Jed conceded. "So why don't you just refer to him as 'Heyes' for now and then if another name starts to feel more comfortable, then switch. Besides that, if you do ever meet him—and hopefully you will, the name that fits will come to you then."

"Yes." She found that she had to accept that. "That's kind of what Belle said. Once I meet him I'll know what name fits. So 'Heyes' it is, for now!"

"Yup! And here we are." Jed needlessly announced as they trotted their horses into the Jordan barnyard with Ellie and the two small dogs charging out with their raucous greetings. "I hope you and Beth have a very productive afternoon."

"I'm sure we will Jed." She agreed. "Thank you for your company."

"Yes ma'am."

Jed's first visit with his cousin after the winter hiatus seemed a little strained for both of them. Heyes was still feeling the depression holding him down and he felt guilty about it whereas Jed wanted to bring good news but didn't feel it was the right time to tell his friend who it was that was back in office. All in all it was an awkward hour, dispersed with silent intervals and filled in with forced casual chatting that meant nothing and went nowhere.

By the time it was over and they each went their separate ways Jed felt just as depressed and hopeless as the inmate and Heyes simply returned to his cell to take commune with the cat.

Finally April 10th rolled around and Jed found himself once again wearing his finest suit and sitting in the plush and opulent waiting room in order to be received by yet another governor. Or perhaps more appropriately, one who had come full circle just so Jed could be ridiculed and made to feel inconsequential yet again. The only up side to this whole frustrating affair was that both Steven and Lom were there with him and feeling just as uncomfortable and dismal as Jed was himself.

Finally the secretary opened the door leading into the office area and gestured for the three men to come forward.

"Governor Warren is ready to see you now." He announced somewhat unnecessarily. "Please follow me."

Jed, Steven and Lom all stood up and followed the secretary out of the waiting room, even though all three of the visitors were quite familiar enough with this routine and with the layout to be able to escort themselves to the Governor's office. Still, one must follow protocol.

Mr. Higgins opened the office door and ushered the three gentlemen in to the large and plush room and indicated the three chairs that had been conveniently placed in a semi-circle around the front of the large cherry wood desk that accentuated the familiar countenance of Governor Frances Warren.

The three men seated themselves down and waited, not quite as patiently as they tried to appear, for the governor to look up from his paperwork and actually acknowledge them. Mr. Warren however seemed to be quite engrossed with said paperwork and continued to occupy himself with reading over various passages to himself and then finally scratching his signature onto one, two and then three of the pages. Only then did he bother to glance up and smile a slightly irritated smile at the three men who awaited him.

"Well, gentlemen." Warren began. "I must admit that one of the redeeming factors of my previous exit from this office was the fact that I would no longer have to be dealing with you and your rather persistent followers! Indeed, during the three years when I did not hold this office I had blessedly forgotten all about you. And yet I'm back in this chair for hardly two weeks when—what do you know!? Sheriff Trevors is once again back to harass my secretary into granting you yet another audience with me! I mean really gentlemen! I'm not even back in office a month and you're right back to hounding me on this matter!?

"Not only that but now I am again finding my office being swarmed with mail! Letters, fliers, telegrams! I would have thought that damn rancher in Texas would have died by now! This won't do gentlemen! No, no, no, this just won't do!"

Jed felt his heart sinking even further, if that could have been possible and even Lom and Steven sat sullen and silent in the dread that the meeting was going to be over before it had even begun. Warren sat at his desk, shaking his head and muttering to himself and then yet again going through small pile of papers set before him. Finally he motioned Mr. Higgins to approach the desk and then handed him the whole pile and instructed him to pass them over to Steven.

"If you would please read these documents over carefully." Warren requested. "Feel free to discuss them with your associates and then PLEASE sign them!"

Mr. Higgins handed the documents over to Steven who took them with some consternation and then with a quick glance over to both Jed and Lom, he slowly began to brows over the printed pages. As he read down the first page his mouth slowly opened and his brow creased and then he flipped over to the second page and quickly browsed through that. He then stared up at the Governor with his mouth open in disbelief and actually quite speechless.

"Is that to your satisfaction, Mr. Granger?" Warren asked him with a slightly irritated edge to his voice.

"Ah, well...I would need some time to discuss this with Mr. Curry and Sheriff Trevors, but ah..."

"What?" Jed couldn't stand the suspense anymore. "What's it say?"

Steven looked over at Jed still appearing to be somewhat in shock.

"It's a parole." He stated, his voice still edged with disbelief. "A parole for Hannibal Heyes. Effective immediately."

"WHAT!?"

"WHAT!?"

Steven got hit on both sides with the same expletive.

"As I stated." Warren interjected. "I've had it up to here with you people! You were a thorn in my side during my last tenure and with all the extra hubbub of trying to bring this territory into statehood the last thing I need is a repeat of the circus you and your friends created four years ago! Take note; it is NOT a full pardon, but a conditional parole! Please read it over carefully and then let me know if it is to your satisfaction! But I tell you right now it is the best YOU ARE GOING TO GET!"

Jed couldn't believe it and he sent the governor the most incredulous of looks.

"You mean this is all it took!?" He demanded. "Make up a few documents, sign it and there you go!? You could have done this four years ago! You could have saved Heyes four years of LIVING IN HELL!"

"Like you say, Mr. Curry." Warren seethed. "All it is are a few documents. Quite easy to rip up and throw away if you'd rather."

"Oh!...No." Jed instantly backed off. "No sir, Governor Warren. Ahh, thank you. We'll just take some time to look these over and then let you know."

"Fine!" Warren snapped. "I'm going to go for lunch. I'm hoping that half an hour is all you gentlemen will need to come to a decision."

"Thank you, Governor Warren." Lom stood up as the governor moved around his large desk and made a hasty exit from his office, followed by the trusty Mr. Higgins.

The three gentlemen left behind stood or sat in stunned silence for close on to thirty seconds and then, as though by some hidden cue, pure pandemonium broke out and all three were laughing and hollering and slapping each other on the back!

"I can't believe it!"

"We did it!"

"Finally! I can't wait to see Heyes' face!"

"This is cause for celebration!"

"I just don't believe it!"

"This is Beth's doing! She and Bridget and now Miranda! They're the ones who did this! Oh! I havta let Uncle Mac know! Having a friend as big as him comes in handy when you need to start throwing some weight around! Ha ha! I don't believe it!"

"Okay, okay, settle down!" Steven, though still breathing heavy with excitement himself was the first to try and bring the meeting to order. "Like the governor said, this is a conditional parole. We better read the conditions before we start celebrating too much."

"So long as Heyes gets out of that prison, what difference does it make?" Jed asked, but starting to calm down as well.

"I know, but let's just make sure." Steven suggested.

"Steven's right." Lom backed him up. "We need to go over the documents and make sure that everything is straight forward and that you think Heyes would be agreeable to."

"Lom at this point I can't see Heyes being disagreeable to anything that will get him out of there." Jed reasoned, but then he nodded and agreed. "But yeah, you're right. We need to know what it says. Okay Steven, let's get down to business."

So all three men pulled their chairs up to the desk and then sat down in a huddle to go over the document one point at a time.

"Okay." Steven began as he took up page number one. "As official Governor of the Territory of Wyoming, I; Frances Emroy Warren hereby authorize a conditional parole to Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes to become effective immediately on this date of April 10th, 1889.

Conditions of parole are as follows;

Parolee must have a permanent place of residence.

Parolee must have a permanent place of employment."

"Well that's no problem." Jed interjected. "Jesse will take care of that part of it."

"Yes, I'm sure he will." Steven agreed. "but we'll probably need to get a written statement from him concerning that in any case. Ahh, anyway, let's see...

Parolee must report to local law enforcement on a weekly basis.

Parolee must inform local law enforcement of any plans to leave county of residence and to provide reason for leaving, intended destination, date of departure and intended date of return.

Parolee must report to local law enforcement at town of destination, must explain his reasons for being there, how long he intends to stay and where he will be lodging during the visit.

If for any reason the Parolee is delayed in returning to county of residence he must inform the primary law enforcement by telegram the reason for his delay and a new date of return.

Parolee must not have any contact with any known criminals or associate with persons known to be outside the law.

Parolee must obey the laws in this or any other Territory or State bound by the borders of the United States of America.

If, for any reason any of the above conditions are broken the Territory of Wyoming holds the right to secure the Parolee back into custody and to return him without benefit of trial or legal counsel to the Territorial Prison where he will then serve out the remainder of his sentence without opportunity for a further parole.

Conditions of the parole will remain in place for the duration of the remaining sentence. Once the sentence has reached its conclusion, the Parolee will present himself to the Wyoming Penal Board and a decision will be made at that time as to the ability of the Parolee to maintain a lawful lifestyle and whether or not he is eligible to be released from above conditions."

Steven stopped reading and sighed. Lom whistled. Jed didn't say anything.

"Well, they're certainly going to be keeping him on a short leash." Lom finally commented. "I hope he can stick to that."

"He better." Steven cautioned. "Cause if he doesn't this document gives the law the right to grab him off the street and throw him back in prison without any recourse open to us to fight it."

"Geesh!" Jed ran his hand through his curls. "And what about that 'no associating with known criminals'? That doesn't mean me does it?"

"No, no." Steven assured him. "No, you're not a criminal anymore Jed. The same for Mr. Murtry—so long as that gentleman doesn't commit any crimes while he's doing his little undercover job for us."

"Kind of hard for him not to." Jed pointed out. "I mean, he's back in with Wheat and we told him to go there. If the gang he's with is going to be robbing trains you can bet he'll be right in there with them."

"Yes, I know." Steven admitted. "I don't know. If it comes down to it we can say that Mr. Murtry was working for us. It certainly wouldn't be a lie."

"What in the world are you two talking about?" Lom demanded, feeling like he'd been left out of the loop—again!

"Well, when Kyle got out of prison, he was already planning to go meet up with Wheat again." Jed explained. "So we simply agreed that he should and to keep an eye and ear open for that Harris fellow who might be able to clear Heyes of killing Dr. Morin. Course now it looks like Mitchell is dropping that charge anyways—well obviously, or Heyes sure wouldn't be getting a parole, no matter how strict it is."

"What do you mean 'planning to meet up with Wheat again'?" Lom asked incredulously. "Do you mean to tell me that Carlson is still alive!?"

Steven and Jed exchanged guilty glances.

"Oh yeah." Jed mumbled. "We kinda forgot to tell ya' that, didn't we."

"Goddammit Kid!" Lom complained. "Don't ya' think that mighta been worth telling me!?"

Jed looked sheepish, but then Steven interjected.

"Don't blame Jed, Sheriff." The lawyer offered. "It was my fault just as much as his. It wasn't an intentional omission, believe me. There's just been so much going on. And really, the fewer people who know of Mr. Carlson's continued existence, the better at least for now."

"Yeah, I'm sorry Lom." Jed apologized. "I shoulda told ya'. I just didn't think."

"Well okay." Lom accepted that. "But from now on, you fellas better keep me informed of what's going on. Especially with this parole laid out the way it is! You better be letting me know what Heyes is doing every minute of every bloody day—do you hear me!?"

"Yeah, I will Lom." Jed agreed. "For sure."

"Of course." Steven also agreed. "But for now, well Jed, what do you think? Will your partner be agreeable to these terms? They are very strict."

"Yeah, but what choice does he have?" Jed reasoned. "It's either agree to them or stay in prison. I think he'll agree. And then we'll just have to do everything we can to help him stick to them."

"Agreed." Said Steven.

"Agreed." Lom reiterated.

When Governor Warren returned to his office after lunch he was much relieved to find everyone in agreement. Thank goodness this whole mess was finally going to be cleared away!

"Fine Mr. Granger." Warren commented. "So if you would sign here, and here. Good. And Sheriff Trevors if you would witness those signatures. Good. Thank you gentlemen. Now, once you have discussed these conditions with Mr. Heyes and that he will hopefully also be in agreement, he will need to sign here. Then the warden will need to sign here and then of course, Mr. Granger you and one other witness will need to sign this section as well."

Jed groaned. "Oh dammit." He complained. "I was hoping we could avoid Warden Mitchell in this. I doubt he is going to be very happy about the turn of events."

"Mr. Mitchell no longer has any say in these events." The governor informed them. "He was encouraged to take early retirement and a new warden has been appointed by the board. I expect you will find him to be more accommodating in this matter. He has already made some staff changes at the prison that may prove to be interesting."

Everybody brightened up at that news.

"This day just keeps getting better and better!" Jed grinned. "Hopefully the new warden isn't going to be just another stuffy bureaucrat like the last!"

"I certainly hope not." Warren agreed. "Finally, once Mr Heyes is released into your keeping, the first thing he must do even before settling in, is to report to the local Sheriff's office and let that man know where he will be residing and what job he has procured. It is my understanding that there is already something along those lines set up for him?"

"Yes, Mr. Warren." Steven informed him. "There is."

"GOOD!" Warren expostulated. "So, gentlemen if we are concluded here, I will bid you a good afternoon!"

"Indeed, Governor Warren." Steven said. "Good afternoon."

"Governor, thank you." Lom bid farewell.

"Yeah, same here." Jed sent him a nod.

Then all four men, simply as a matter of protocol shook hands and much to the governor's relief, the three major thorns in his side took their leave.

To Be Continued.


	34. Chapter 34

The Way Back

Funny how it can go sometimes; you fight and scramble and give it your all for what seems like an eternity and nothing happens. You feel like you're trying to swim upstream and with every stroke you make you're just being pushed further and further back. You want to give up but you keep on fighting because, well; what else is there?

Then all of a sudden, without any warning at all 'BOOM' everything just falls into place and it almost sends you into a panic because so many things are coming at you at once and you're not prepared for it. It's what you've been waiting for and fighting for but when it finally happens you're just not prepared for it and you're left in shock because all of a sudden, seemingly out of the blue; there it is! Suddenly you've got to deal with it.

Heyes sat in the visitor's room awaiting whom he presumed would be his lawyer coming for a visit; it was a weekday after all and no regular visitors would be coming in the middle of the week like this. It must be Steven. Murrey stood quietly behind the inmate and they waited together until the door opened and sure enough Steven walked into the room. Then Curry walked in behind him, both of them appearing quite serious.

Heyes felt a touch of trepidation. There was something about their attitudes that instantly got him worried. Something was up—something had happened. And it must be something important or it wouldn't have taken both of them to come here to tell him. Hmm.

"Gentlemen." Murrey greeted the visitors. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be right on the other side of the door if you need anything."

"Thank you Officer." Steven nodded to him. "I think we'll be fine."

Murrey nodded back and then exited the room in order to give Heyes his time with the lawyer.

"Howdy Heyes." Curry greeted his partner as the two men sat down. "How ya' doin'?"

"I think I would be doing better if you fellas would just tell me what's going on." Heyes queried. "And don't tell me 'nothin' cause I can tell that something has happened!"

Steven nodded as he brought his brief case up onto the table and opened it.

"Well Heyes." Curry began with a heavy sigh. "Let's just say that I found a way to return the favour."

Heyes' brow creased. "What favour?"

Then Curry couldn't keep up the pretence anymore and his face broke out into a huge grin. "We brought about the 'miracle'!"

Heyes looked even more confused and he looked from one man to the other. "Wha...?"

Steven smiled and brought out the documents and then set his briefcase down on the floor beside him.

"I have in my hands a conditional parole for Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes, effective immediately." Steven informed him. "So long as you are agreeable to the conditions that is."

Heyes' jaw dropped and then he looked like he was trying to say something, but nothing was coming out. Kid started to laugh.

"Aww, Heyes! We did it!" He told his partner. "Governor Warren has granted you a parole! "You're gonna get outa here Heyes—today!"

"Wha...?" Heyes repeated, his brain swirling. "Governor Warren?"

"Yeah!" Kid explained. "President Harrison re-appointed him as the governor of Wyoming, and he's just so fed up with having to deal with this issue—still and again, that he's willing to grant you a parole. You're comin' home Heyes!"

"That's if you agree to the conditions." Steven felt it necessary to break into this one man celebration and bring the situation back down to reality. "You have to agree to the conditions of the parole Mr. Heyes—and I warn you; they are very strict."

"Conditions?" Was all Heyes could get out. His mind was still spinning. This was just a dream, it had to be. Just like the one he'd had with Doc Morin. One that appeared to be so real that it must truly be happening, until the klaxon sounds and you wake up to realize that your brain was just playing tricks on you again.

"Yes." Steven told him and swivelled the documents around so that Heyes could look at them. "Read these over and see what you think. Feel free to ask any questions that you might have, and take your rime. I want you to be sure that you understand it all."

"Oh." Heyes mumbled as he looked blankly at the pages set in front of him. "Ahhmm, is Kenny here?"

"No." Steven told him. "Officer Reese isn't available right now. Just relax and take your time. Read it through as many times as you need to make sense of it." Then Steven reached over and flipped the top page over for him. "The actual conditions are listed here on the second page. Just take your time."

"Oh, yes." Heyes frowned and looked at the printing on the page in front of him, but he was having trouble focusing on it, his mind simply refused to settle.

"Heyes?" Curry was looking a little concerned. "Ya' alright?"

Heyes' eyes jerked up and he stared at his cousin. "Ahhmm, yeah. Just...give me a minute." Then Heyes took a deep breath and cleared his throat as though preparing himself to give a speech and then he looked down at the document again and forced himself to focus on the words. "Okay, ahh; condition number one..." And he began to slowly read them out.

He read them through one at a time and then when he got to the end he sat and continued to stare at the document as though still trying to take it all in.

"Mr. Heyes?" Steven finally asked him. "Do you understand the conditions?"

"Yeah, I think so." Heyes answered quietly. "A place to live and a job? Is Jesse going to cover that?"

"Yeah Heyes." Curry told him. "He's given us a signed declaration for us to show to the warden stating that you'll live at the Double J for now and that he also has a job for ya'."

"Oh." Heyes nodded. "Good. Ahh, associating with known criminals. That doesn't mean you does it?"

"No." His partner assured him. "I asked the same question and Steven pointed out that I'm not a criminal anymore so we're good."

"Oh. Good. Cause if I couldn't see you then what would be the point?"

Jed smiled. "Well Heyes? Do ya' think you can stick to those conditions? They are kinda strict an' all."

"Yeah, but..." Heyes shrugged. "Better than being in here."

"Are you willing to sign the agreement?" Steven asked him.

"Yeah." Heyes stated quietly.

"Good." Steven smiled and nodded at him. "You just go back and carry on with your day for now. We'll go up to speak with the warden and get things rolling. Warren has already sent him a telegram to inform him of this situation so I don't foresee any problems. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Okay." Heyes looked shell shocked. He was still having a hard time believing that this was all true and he looked to his cousin again for reassurance.

Jed looked a little worried, but he smiled and gave his cousin what he needed. "Yeah Heyes." He said. "It's really happening. We'll see ya' over in the warden's office."

Steven had gotten up and moved over to the interior door and gave it a couple of quick raps. The door opened and Murrey stuck his head in.

"We're done here Officer." Steven told him. "He can return to his duties."

"Okay." Murrey stepped into the room and took Heyes' arm. "C'mon Heyes, let's go."

Heyes stood up and meekly allowed himself to be led back into the prison proper.

Once the door had closed on them, Jed stood up himself and looked over to Steven.

"That sure didn't go like I had thought." He admitted. "I expected a little bit more...I donno—excitement."

"He's in shock I think." Steven commented. "Give him some time for it to sink in. It's a lot for him to take in all at once."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Come on. Let's go talk to the warden."

Down on the work floor Heyes was going about his duties as though in a daze. He must have just been imagining that—it hadn't really happened. Here he was right back stuffing cigars so he must have just been daydreaming. That couldn't have really happened. Could it?

Then Officer Pearson was standing beside him and Heyes' heart skipped a beat.

"Convict, follow me."

Heyes dropped whatever it was he'd been doing and got in step behind the guard. Pearson led him across the work floor and over to the stairs leading up to Heyes cell. This was different; it was the middle of a work day, why was he being taken back to his cell? His heart started to beat a little bit faster. Could this really be happening? All of a sudden, just like that? Finally?

They got to Heyes' cell and the inmate was surprised and a little resentful to find Murrey there sorting through his books. What was this all about?

"Don't worry about it Heyes." Pearson assured him. "I figured you'd want to take most of your books and letters with you so Murrey's just going to help carry things down to the processing room. Why don't you get in there and sort through what you do want. Any books you decide to leave will go into the library and of course, any clothes will go to other inmates. But they're your belongings so take whatever you want with you."

Heyes nodded and stepping into his cell he sat down on the cot before his knees gave out beneath him and he ended up sitting on the floor. Eventually he pulled the box of letters out from under his table and brought it up onto the cot—these for sure he'd want to keep with him. Then he pulled out his extra clothing from under the cot itself and began to go through those items. He kept aside all the clothing that had been sent to him by Belle but the items that had been given to him by the Sisters he put back under the cot. Those items could stay; they were for the convicts after all and he surmised that he wouldn't really be needing them anymore himself.

He was just beginning to sort through his books from the prison books when Mouse came trotting into the cell with her tail up and a welcoming 'murr' on her whiskers. Heyes smiled as she jumped up onto his lap and began to purr while rubbing herself against his chest. He stroked her back and rubbed her ears.

"You know, don't you." He mumbled softly to his feline friend. "You've come to say 'goodbye'."

"Ackk!" Rub rub. Purr purr. Then she placed her tiny front paws on Heyes' chest and rubbed her cheeks against his nose.

It tickled and he snorted a little bit, blowing the hairs away from his nostrils, but he chuckled and gave her a little bit of a hug.

"Thank you." He said to her, and meant it. "You did a good job."

"Maaaa!"

"Are you going to take a break now, or is there someone else in need of your personal care?"

"Merrr."

And then she gave him one more rub against his nose and without a backward glance, she hopped down to the floor and trotted out of the cell. She was proud of a job well done and already had a new project in mind so no time to waste time!

Heyes smiled after her and then with a sigh got back to sorting out his books. Time to move on.

Twenty minutes later Heyes left cell number 312 for the last time but he found it hard to really appreciate the significance of the moment as it all still seemed so surreal to him. He was carrying his box full of letters along with a number of sweaters and mitts that had been knitted by Belle. Murrey was following along behind all loaded down with various layers of books and the medical journals that Doc Morin had given to the inmate. Those items were precious to Heyes and he wasn't about to leave them behind.

Pearson was leading them out towards the processing room; a place where Heyes' hadn't been in almost five years.

"Okay Heyes." Pearson told him. "Leave your belongings here for now, we'll be back. Come with me."

Heyes followed Pearson through a door into the next room and found himself in the familiar surroundings of the shower room.

"Strip down." Pearson ordered him. "I know you've already had your shower for this week, but this is a special occasion."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed.

He quickly pulled off his prison garb and Pearson handed him a bar of soap.

"There ya' go." The guard said. "Make it quick."

"No problem."

Heyes stepped over by the drain in the floor and Pearson pulled the cord that released a dousing of cold water onto the convict. Heyes gasped but then quickly began to lather himself up—if you can call that lather, and gave himself a quick scrubbing down. When he was done, he placed the bar of soap onto the floor, out of the way and Pearson released another dousing of water to get him rinsed off. Then he threw the inmate a rough towel.

Heyes snatched it out of the air, and shivering from the cold water he quickly began to dry himself off. Then, hugging his torso again, he followed Pearson into the next room and just about fainted when he spied his own clothing folded up in a pile on the bench as though he had just put them there himself the day before. He sent a questioning look over to Pearson; he needed to be sure that this was what he was supposed to be doing.

Pearson nodded. "Go ahead Heyes." He assured him. "Get dressed."

A quick smile flashed across Heyes' face and he walked over to the bench, feeling butterflies dancing around in his stomach. He placed a trembling hand onto the pile of familiar clothing just to reassure himself that they were really, actually there.

They were the same clothes that he'd been wearing when he had been processed into this hell hole. They had been laundered and mended and then folded up and put away until the day when the inmate might actually be needing them again. Heyes found himself smiling once more, only this time the smile didn't leave his face as he quickly pulled on the long johns and then the henley. He sat down and pulled on the warm socks and soon his shivering abated and a warmth was building up inside of him and radiated throughout his body.

He smiled up at Pearson and that guard smiled back. This was one of the few pleasurable experiences of being a guard at the prison; being able to assist an inmate with the process of being released. There was always something positive about it; something hopeful. Pearson settled back and watched Heyes becoming reacquainted with his personal clothing and in doing so, having the realization that this was actually happening slowly begin to sink in.

Heyes shook out his light blue shirt and putting it on, slowly did up the buttons. Ohh, buttons! They almost felt foreign to his fingers, especially ones this small. He fumbled with the normally simple process of doing up his shirt and even had to undo them and start over again when on his first attempt he got the buttons mix matched with the holes. Pearson grinned.

Finally that job was completed and Heyes took up the black trousers and put his feet, one at a time into the leggings. Then he stood up and pulled the trousers up to his waist and buttoned them up as well—a little bit more successfully this time. Then he took the belt and sliding it through the loops he did the buckle up in front, pulling the leather through a little further than the last time he'd worn it. Next he sat down again and one foot at a time he pulled on those comfortable tall, black boots. Then he stood up and gave a little bounce just to remind himself what good quality leather actually felt like.

It felt so good to be back into his own clothing again, even if everything did feel a little big. That didn't matter; everything would be right again, all in good time. Finally he picked up the dark brown corduroy jacket and slipped his arms into that as well. He hoped it would be enough to keep him warm as he knew it was still a chilly day outside. Oh well, he'd find a way to manage.

"Okay." Said Pearson. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

They went back to the processing room and the first thing Heyes noticed was that his books were gone. He felt the beginnings of a panic rising up in him but Pearson was quick to put him at his ease.

"It's alright Heyes." He said. "Murrey's just taken them to the warden's office. You can pick them up there when you're done."

"Oh, okay." Heyes sighed with relief. "For a minute there I thought Carson was playing a dirty trick on me."

"Ahh, Carson's not working as a guard at this prison anymore." Pearson informed him.

"Oh! Really?" Heyes knotted his brow. "Where did he go?"

"He was transferred to the prison in Yuma, Arizona."

Heyes gave a slightly wicked grin. "Really?" He asked.

"Hmm." Pearson nodded.

"So all those times I told him in my head to go to hell actually paid off?"

Pearson couldn't help but chuckle. "For now." He admitted. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he retires early and finds another way to make a living. I don't think Yuma is going to suit him very well."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. Then he picked up his box of letters and Pearson led the way out of the processing room and down the somewhat familiar hallways towards the warden's office.

"So does that mean that Ken...I mean Officer Reece is now senior guard?" Heyes asked as they made their way along.

"Well, no." Pearson informed him. "Actually I was promoted to senior guard."

"Really?" Heyes looked confused. "I mean..no! That's great for you. You deserve it, congratulations. Actually Doc Morin predicted that you would rise to that position sooner or later."

Pearson smiled with pleasure. "He did?"

"Huh uh." Heyes reaffirmed. "And I don't mean to question the promotion, it's just that I would have thought that Officer Reece would have just naturally moved up the rung."

The smile dropped from Pearson's face. "Oh well, Mr. Reece is also no longer working as a guard here at the prison."

"Oh."

Heyes couldn't help the wave of disappointment that washed over him. He looked away from Pearson then and they continued the walk to the warden's office in silence. Heyes was surprised at how much that piece of news hurt him. He almost felt betrayed that Kenny had not let him know that he was leaving. He had hoped to see the guard again; to thank him and to say 'goodbye'.

Oh well. Heyes tried to shrug it off. Probably better this way; goodbye's can be awkward. Yeah, probably better. But still Heyes couldn't clear away the knot in his throat and the hollow feeling in his stomach. Then they were at their destination and Heyes' thoughts turned to more pressing matters.

"Is the warden ready to receive Mr. Heyes?" Pearson asked the secretary.

"Oh yes." That gentleman assured them as he stood up to escort them into the office. "Indeed, the other three gentlemen are already inside."

Then he gave a quiet rapping on the door and opened it to allow Heyes to enter.

"I'll be leaving you here Heyes." Pearson said. "Good luck to ya'."

"Oh, yes Mr. Pearson." Heyes turned to him, surprised at the abrupt parting. But then Pearson presented his hand and smiling, Heyes took it and they shook 'goodbye'.

"Don't take this wrong Heyes." He said. "But I don't ever want to see ya' again."

"Likewise Mr. Pearson." Heyes agreed. "And again, congratulations on your promotion."

Then Heyes turned and entered the warden's office and just about dropped his box of letters.

The Kid and Steven were there and actually, so was Lom all sitting in front of the desk and enjoying a glass of sherry. There was a fourth chair there as well, obviously awaiting Heyes' arrival, and a fourth glass of sherry setting on the desk, apparently also awaiting Heyes' arrival. But Heyes stood, mouth open in surprise as he stared into the gray eyes of the man sitting behind the warden's desk, looking as though he owned it.

"Heyes." Kenny greeted him. "Glad you could join us. Come on, have a seat, have a drink. Let's get this paperwork over with."

"But..." Heyes began and then looked back behind him as Pearson walked away. "Mr. Pearson said that..."

"That I was no longer a guard at the prison?"

Heyes gave a bit of a whimsical smile. "Yeah."

"That's because I'm the one they offered the warden's position to." Kenny informed him. "I guess they thought that if I was willing to put my job on the line for one inmate then maybe I might just do a good job overseeing them all. I hope so anyways."

A full grin spread across Heyes' face. "Congratulations Kenny." He said. "You've earned it."

"You too Heyes." Kenny told him. "Come on, sit down. Have a drink."

Heyes looked at the offered chair as though it were a foreign object, but he closed the door behind him and a little awkwardly he stepped forward and sat down, putting his box of letters on the floor beside him. He knew that Kid was grinning at him and he felt a little self-conscious, almost out of place, but he settled in and sent a bit of a shy smile over to his friend. Kid nodded at him and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

"You're lookin' good Heyes." He said. "Ya' got some extra room in those clothes, but Belle's home cooking will take care of that soon enough."

Heyes nodded, still feeling a little uncertain of himself. "Hey Lom."

"Good to see ya' lookin' more like yourself, Heyes." Lom greeted him.

"Now you've already read over the official conditions of your parole." Steven began. "But the four of us have also come up with a condition for you to accept. If you're wise you'll realize it's not because we don't trust you, but that we want to help you to succeed."

Heyes looked around at his friends feeling a little ganged up on again. All four of them were looking back at him and it made him feel self-conscious again to be the focus of so much attention.

"Okay." He said with a bit of trepidation. "What other possible conditions can there be?"

"We want you to agree that along with informing Sheriff Jacobs of your whereabouts at all times, that you will also inform Sheriff Trevors." Steven explained. "He is to know at all times exactly where you are and what you're doing. Do you agree to that?"

Heyes looked over at Lom, feeling a little resentful of all these stipulations being put onto his 'freedom'.

"I just don't want to be caught flat-footed again Heyes." Lom explained to him. "Like I was at your trial. During that time when you were seeking your amnesty you both agreed to keep me informed of what was going on with you. Apparently neither one of you felt it necessary to honour that agreement. You tended to pick and chose what you were going to tell me."

Heyes looked over at his cousin and they both looked a little guilty.

"So now we're going to make it official." Lom continued. "You will keep me informed of where you are and what you're doing—at all times. You agree to that as well as what the board has stipulated then we can get these documents signed and you can get outa here."

"Again, I'll emphasize what your lawyer has already stated." Kenny stepped in when Heyes hesitated. "It's not that we don't trust you, it's not that we think that you're going to go out and instantly start robbing banks again. We just know that temptations will be there and none of us want to see you coming back here. Do you understand that?"

Heyes looked around at each of his friends and saw the look of hope and expectation in all of their eyes and his resentment over their 'interference' dissipated and he smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I understand." He grudgingly admitted. "I like to think that I can do it all on my own..." Then he looked rather pointedly at Kenny. "But others have made it pretty clear to me that I still have a long ways to go." Then he looked over at Lom again. "Alright Lom. I'll agree to that too."

Everybody seemed relieved at the acceptance. "Okay Heyes." Kenny began the session. "Do you need to read over the other conditions of this parole again or do you have any questions?"

"Ah, yeah." Heyes admitted and then looked over to Steven. "That one about how I could be arrested and returned to prison without legal council—does that mean that any lawman at any time could simply arrest me and bring me back here?"

"No." Steven assured him. "That's mainly there as a safety measure. It simply means that if you blatantly ignore the conditions of this parole, or return to a life of criminal activity then the law has the right to apprehend you and return you to the prison without a second trial.

"You are on probation, which means that you are still officially serving time but you're serving it outside the prison rather than inside. You are being given the opportunity to prove that you are capable of living a law-abiding life. Accept and honour the conditions of the parole and you won't need to fear re-arrest just because some lawman thinks that you should be back in prison."

"Oh." Heyes nodded. "Okay. That's reasonable."

"Anything else you're not sure about?"

"No. I think that covers it."

"Are you ready to sign it?"

Heyes smiled. "Yes."

"Okay!" Kenny stood up and pushed the documents over to their side of the table.

The other four men also stood up and Kenny handed Heyes the pen. The two men locked eyes again and then Heyes sighed to try and still the butterflies and then taking the pen, he dipped it into the ink well and signed his name on the appropriate line. Then Kenny took the pages back and added his own signature and then he smiled too and looked over at the group.

"You know these are the first release forms I've signed as warden." He announced with a pleased grin. "It really is my pleasure Heyes, to be signing the one with your name on it. You're ready for it now and I'm happy to do it."

Then he pushed the papers over to Steven and handed him the pen. Steven dipped it again and signed his name and then offered the documents to Jed to sign as the witness. He scratched his name below everyone else's and then straightened up with a huge sigh and a smile that definitely reached his blue eyes.

Then Steven brought out the single sheet document laying out the terms of the agreement concerning Sheriff Trevors and slid it over to Heyes for him to read over. He did so and everything seem pretty straight forward. He sighed and nodded and picking up the pen again he signed his name to the document. Then he slid it along to Lom who also signed it and the document made the rounds of the table until everyone had added their signature, indicating their agreement and commitment to helping their friend stay legal.

Jed was the last one to sign it and then having done it, he surprised his cousin by turning to him and shaking his hand and giving him a solid slap on the shoulder.

"Aww Heyes!" He grinned. "Finally! How do ya' feel? Has it sunk in yet?"

"Ah, I donno." Heyes admitted. "I don't think so."

"Well." Kenny began as he raised his glass of sherry in a toast. "Here's to new beginnings, for both of us."

Everybody raised and tapped their glasses together and took a drink to the toast. Heyes hadn't had liquor in a long time and he felt it burn right down into his stomach, but it felt good too.

"And Heyes." Kenny continued. "Especially to you; here's to finding your way back home again."

"Here, here." Jed seconded that one and everyone toasted it again and finished off their sherry's.

"Thank you." Heyes again felt self-conscious but he smiled with pleasure as well.

Then Kenny came around the desk and taking Heyes' hand in his gave it a truly heart felt shake and then, just as Jed had done, put a hand on the ex-con's shoulder and held it there. Heyes looked up and met his eyes.

"You behave yourself out there Heyes." Kenny said. "You, of all people, I don't want to see coming back here. You understand me?"

"Yeah."

"You've got a real chance now." Kenny continued. "You have friends out there who will help you along the way, and support you just as they supported you while you were in here. I know you went through a hard time in here, far harder than it should have been, and I still don't understand why that would have been. I know that with Carson, well he's just a bully and even worse; a bully who was in charge, and that's why my first official act was to transfer him out of here. I don't want that kind of guard working under me, and if Thompson doesn't change his attitude he'll find himself elsewhere as well.

"But why Warden Mitchell had it in for you is still a mystery to me and I suppose now we'll probably never really find out why, but well at least you're out from under him now.

"You've just got to give yourself some time Heyes. You've got to trust in your friends and in yourself because I agree with your benefactor, Mr. Jordan; you do have inner strength that you don't even know about yet. Give yourself a chance to find your footing again and you'll come out of this a better man. A man who your daughter will be proud to call her father.

"You take care of yourself, and you know if you ever need anything, if there's anything I can do to help you out all you have to do is ask."

"Yeah Kenny, I know. Thank you." Heyes responded. "And again, congratulations on your promotion. Looks like all your youngsters are going to be going to college now."

Kenny grinned. "Yeah, looks like it." Then the new warden turned to Curry. "Jed, you once asked me to watch Heyes' back in here, because you weren't here to do it yourself." Curry nodded acquiesce. "I know we have all signed the document stating acceptance of this responsibility, but I'm still going to put in a special request to you now ; You watch out for him out there. You keep him honest. Alright?"

Jed smiled. "Yeah Kenny, I will. And thank you, for everything."

Then Jed and Kenny shook hands. "Keep in touch." Kenny told him. "I mean it—both of you. I want to know how things are going."

"We will Kenny." Jed assured him.

Kenny then turned to the lawyer and they exchanged handshakes as well.

"Mr. Granger. It's satisfying to finally meet a lawyer I actually like. Keep up the good work. It's been an interesting ride."

Steven grinned at the backward compliment. "Yes indeed."

Then finally, Kenny turned to the last man standing.

"Sheriff Trevors." Kenny shook the lawman's hand. "Sometimes I think you're the man we should be thanking the most here. You were willing to go out on a very shaky limb for two rather notorious outlaws and you've stayed true to them all of the way through. They could do a lot worse than having a friend like you watching their backs."

"Yeah well, like you say it's been an interesting ride." Lom commented. "And it's not over yet—is it boys?"

Heyes and Kid both grinned.

Then Kenny turned back to Heyes and shook his hand again.

"Mr. Heyes. Good luck to you. And I mean it—keep in touch."

Heyes grinned. "Yessir, Mr. Reece."

The four men made their way out of the prison—through the front door this time! Heyes still felt as though he were floating, and this just wasn't really happening and that at any moment he was going to find himself being whacked with the bully club and told to 'wake up!'. But nothing happened, and he walked down the steps with his three companions without wearing shackles and without having a rifle following every move he made.

A trustee had been sent to retrieve the horse and surrey and it was waiting for them in the yard, and Heyes walked towards it hoping that his butter legs weren't going to collapse out from under him before he got to it. Kid and Steven settled the pile of Heyes' belongings onto the floor under the back seat and then while Kid continued to rummage around back in there, Steven and Lom stepped up into the front and Steven took hold of the lines in preparation of their departure.

Heyes was still looking around in disbelief, feeling the chilly Wyoming winds still swirling around him and reminding him that winter wasn't that long gone and he only had on a light weight jacket. Then Kid caught his attention and Heyes smiled as his cousin handed him his holster with his Schofield neatly tucked into its sheath.

"There ya' go Heyes." Jed said. "I've kept it clean and oiled so it would be ready for you when ya' got out. Same as the holster; I kept it oiled too so that the leather wouldn't dry out."

"Thank you Kid." Was Heyes' heartfelt response and he took the holster and strapped it a round his waist and it settled in upon his hips like an old friend coming to visit. "Feels good."

"And I thought you might be needin' this too." Jed continued as he handed Heyes his heavier winter coat.

Heyes' smile turned from one of pleasure to one of relief; he was definitely feeling the chill factor. He took his old blue coat—or was it brown...or gray? Or a combination of all three? Maybe that's why Heyes had such a fondness for that old battered coat; its colour was indefinable—much like Heyes himself at times.

He reached into one of his boxes and pulling out one of the scarf's that Belle had knitted for him, he wrapped it around his neck and then shrugged himself into his old familiar coat. He looked at Kid and smiled shyly, seeing his cousin grinning at him as he became reacquainted with his own wardrobe.

Heyes sighed. "Yeah, feels good."

"And, well last but not least—I suppose." Kid commented as he reached in again and came back with Heyes' old black hat.

Heyes' dimples took over his face and he actually gave a soft laugh.

"Aww Kid, I wasn't sure if you'd been able to get this." He commented as he took the hat and gazed upon it like a long lost lover.

"Yeah well, Lom had it for awhile. He got it from the Sheriff in Cheyenne." Kid explained. "Then Lom handed it over to me to keep safe for ya'. I thought about buying ya' a new one and just moving the hatband over onto it, but then I thought that I should just leave that to you. I know how much you like that old hunk of felt, so, well there ya' go. Lookin' kinda the worse for wear, but then it always did."

Heyes had to catch himself from running a hand over his hair before placing the old hat onto its honoured place. He had to remind himself that he didn't have any hair—that's why his head was so cold, but he was afraid that if he did go to push his hair back that he might actually find that he did have some and then the bubble would burst. Then he would know that this was just a dream after all and he was going to wake up in the dark cell and that the chill he was feeling wasn't the cold breeze coming at him from across the open prairie, but from the dank, dark terror filled dungeon that had been his bane on more than one occasion.

So it was with some trepidation and a trembling hand that he finally lifted his treasured hat and placed it on his head. It fit big, just like everything else he had put on this day, but that was okay because it proved beyond a doubt that there was no hair there to fill it out and Heyes felt relief wash over him. The hat settled low, almost covering his eyes and Jed couldn't help but break out laughing—his cousin looked so comical.

Heyes grinned back at him and settled the hat a little bit further back on his head. Once his hair had grown back, it would fit properly again. Jed nodded with approval.

"Another good reason not to buy ya' a new hat." He commented. "A hat that fits ya' now won't fit ya' later."

"This one'll do."

"Huh uh. Well, c'mon Heyes, step aboard." Curry suggested. "About time we said 'goodbye' to this place."

"You got that right!" Heyes agreed and he stepped up into the back seat and settled himself in. Jed came in beside him and Steven clucked the horse into a trot.

Heyes watched in an almost stunned disbelief as the front gate was opened wide for them to pass through and the guard standing there actually tipped his hat as they went by. Heyes didn't really know him, he was a new hire but he nodded an acknowledgement back to him anyways and then they were through and on their way towards town.

"Ah, Kid?" Heyes began tentatively. "What time are we catching the train back to Colorado?"

"Well, the next train will be leaving in the morning." Kid informed him. "I know you'd probably like to get out of Laramie as soon as possible, but..."

"No, no that's alright." Heyes assured him. "Actually, I was kinda thinking if we could postpone it a day..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, if we can, I would like to stop by the orphanage before we leave town." Heyes admitted. "Say goodbye to Sister Julia and Marilyn and the kids too, of course. They all did a lot to keep me going I don't want to just leave without seeing them."

"Yeah sure Heyes." Curry agreed. "Whatever you want. We'll just let the sheriff in town know what we're doing. Should be fine."

"Oh yeah." Heyes mumbled. "I forgot about that."

"Don't forget about that Heyes." Kid gently reprimanded him. "That's important."

"Yeah!" Heyes agreed emphatically. "Ahhhmmm, what about my books and things? Seems kinda silly to be lugging them all over the place."

"I'll still be heading back in the morning, so I can take them back with me." Steven offered from the front seat. "I'll leave them at the Gibson's place for you to pick up on your way out to the ranch."

"Oh!" That suited Heyes. "Yes, okay. Thank you."

Once they arrived in town, Steven dropped the two passengers off at the hotel and then he and Lom drove the horse and surrey over to the livery stable. Loaded down with Heyes' belongings, Jed led him into the hotel lobby and then up the stairs to the room Jed had booked for them upon arriving in Laramie earlier that day. He had got one with two beds in anticipation of his cousin being with him for the coming night and it was with some relief that he was now returning to that room with said cousin in tow.

Heyes stopped dead in his tracks and stood in the open doorway, staring into the room as though it were a prince's palace. He felt so out of place, and he didn't know what to do. Was it okay to come in? Jed had walked over to one of the beds and set the pile of books down and then turned to see why Heyes wasn't following.

"What's the matter?" Jed asked him.

"What? Ahhmm...I don't know." Heyes looked nervous. "Is it okay?"

"Sure." Kid told him. "C'mon in. Ya' don't need permission Heyes."

"Oh. Yeah."

Heyes stepped across the threshold and then put his box of letters and clothing down on the bed beside the pile of books. He looked at the bed as though he had never seen one before and then gently, almost reverently ran his hand along the bedspread. It felt so soft and plush and comfortable. He touched the pillow and then turned and sat down on the mattress, feeling the springs under it give to his weight and practically inviting him to lay down upon it and snuggle in to sleep the rest of the day away.

Jed stood quietly watching him. Seeing the expressions of wonder and amazement and sometimes a little bit of fear and uncertainty float across his cousin's face. It was as though a whole new world was opening up for him and those things that Kid had come to consider mundane were in fact a treasure of sensual delight to the ex-inmate.

Then Steven and Lom arrived at the open door of their room and inadvertently broke the spell.

"We better get down to the Sheriff's office and report in." The lawyer advised. "After that, I've got things I need to get done, so I'll leave you gentlemen to spend the evening however you like."

"I've got some things to do as well." Lom informed them. "Though I will meet you for drinks at the saloon later this evening. Have ourselves a little celebration."

Jed smiled. He knew that neither Steven or Lom had anything pressing to get done, that they were both just getting themselves out of the way so that Jed could spend some time with his cousin. It would be good for them to get 're-acquainted' on their own and Heyes was going to need a bit of time to get used to the idea of being a 'free' man.

"Okay." Kid agreed. "Let's get business over with so we can go eat. I'm hungry!"

Heyes grinned. "Well I see nothing has changed there."

The walk over to the Sheriff's office was strange indeed. Heyes walked along the boardwalk in step with his cousin with Steven walking a little bit ahead of them and Lom bringing up the rear. Heyes just couldn't stop looking around him at every little thing. He actually bumped into Jed more than once because his focus would be on some pretty woman walking passed, or some new advertisement in a window. It was just all so overwhelming.

Then they turned a corner and Heyes got hit with a powerful memory. He recognized this street as one that he had been on numerous times on his way over to the convent or the orphanage. He recognized the buildings and the lay out of the park and the town square. But when he saw these images before, he had been viewing them from between the bars of the prison wagon or from the more open buckboard, but still shackled and chained to the floorboards. Still a prisoner and only able to view from the outskirts and looking in, unable to partake of the pleasures of the town.

Now, here he was walking along those self-same streets and passing those same shop windows and smiling a greeting to the pretty girl skipping by. He was a part of the town now, and not just some invisible convict longing for what he couldn't have. What he couldn't touch. And he was so engrossed by the life going on around him that Jed had to grab his arm and turn him into the office that he had been about to walk on by.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff McPherson?" Steven asked as they entered the law office.

Heyes suddenly stopped and felt a chill go through him as he found himself in one of these structures yet again. He looked over at the bars of the cells like a person watching something horrific, but was unable to pull their eyes away from it. He paled and felt a little shell shocked.

"Yeah that's me. What can I do fer ya'?" Answered the short balding man at the desk.

"I'm Steven Granger, Sheriff." Steven introduced himself. "I'm a lawyer out of Colorado. This is Lom Trevors, sheriff out of Porterville and Mr. Curry I believe you already know. Now this gentleman over here is my client, Hannibal Heyes. He's just been released from the prison and was told to report to you as soon as he got settled into town."

"Oh yeah." The sheriff acknowledged them. "I was told to expect ya'. All that hubbub about Hannibal Heyes. Hmm, don't look like much do he?" Then he cackled a laugh. "Funny how prison'll do that to a man, ain't it!?"

Lom shook his head in disgust, disappointed in the calibre of 'lawmen' that he so often encountered in his journey's across the west. Curry bristled; he was already tangentially acquainted with this sheriff and had to admit he didn't like him much—all nosey, but no action. And now here he was insulting his partner out of hand. Curry's regard for this particular lawman sunk even further. Steven set about calming the waters.

"Yes. Well, he did just spent nearly five years in that prison Sheriff." The lawyer pointed out. "Given some time he'll be back to his old self again."

"Well I hope not quite to his old self." The sheriff commented. "Know what I mean? Don't want no trouble."

Steven smiled. "I don't think Mr. Heyes intends to cause any trouble Sheriff." He assured the lawman. "He and and Mr. Curry just want to get some supper, maybe play some cards at the saloon and relax. He will be making a trip out to the convent tomorrow in order to say his goodbyes to the Sisters there and then he will be boarding the train and leaving town the following morning. Are you agreeable to those plans?"

Sheriff McPherson pursed his lips and scratched his chubby, stubbly cheek while he scrutinized the ex-inmate. Heyes shifted uncomfortably but tried to look as pleasant and nonthreatening as possible.

"Wal, I suppose so." The sheriff agreed. "Long as he stays quiet and outa trouble. You gonna keep yerself outa trouble there Mr. Heyes?"

"Oh yessir, Sheriff." Heyes assured him quietly. "No trouble."

"Good. Fine." The Sheriff consented. "You and yer friend behave yerselves an' I'll leave ya' alone. I'll be keepin' an eye on ya'-but I'll leave ya' alone."

"Yessir Sheriff." Heyes repeated. "Thank you."

"Sheriff." Steven nodded to him. "Good afternoon."

"Thanks for your co-operation." Lom commented dryly.

McPherson sent him a look that suggested disdain for any lawman who would keep company with such riff raft as Curry and Heyes—pardoned or not.

"Ya'." He grumbled. "See ya'."

The four men left the office and the Kid was practically seething.

"Geesh!" He grumbled. "Is that the kind of reception we have to look forward to? I don't think he looked me in the eye once!"

"He's probably had so many released inmates come through here that he's kind of jaded by it." Steven reasoned. "I wouldn't take it too personally. Like he says, he'll leave you alone if you behave yourselves. And you will—behave yourselves, won't you?"

"Yeah, of course Steven." Kid almost sounded insulted. "We're not going to blow it now."

"Mr. Heyes? How about you?"

"Yessir Mr. Granger." Heyes assured him. "I don't want any problems."

"Good." Steven smiled. "Just making sure. Well gentlemen, I'm just going to grab some coffee and a sandwich and return to my room to get some paperwork finished up. I hope to see you both in the morning for breakfast."

"Yeah, we'll see ya' later Steven." Kid told him. "We'll probably be in the saloon later on if you feel like joining us for a drink."

"Ah!" Steven nodded with a smile. "I just might. Enjoy dinner."

"I'll leave you fellas for now too." Lom stated. "I'll see you later. Heyes, again; congratulations. Enjoy your dinner."

"Thanks Lom."

So the men parted company and the two cousins headed towards the eating and drinking establishments. Curry was over his snit and gave his partner a quick slap on the arm.

"Well Heyes! What do ya' feel like doing first?" He asked with a grin. "Ya' hungry or do ya' wanna get a beer and play some poker?"

"I seem to recall you saying that you were hungry." Heyes pointed out.

"Well, yeah." Kid conceded. "But ya' know—it's your first day out; what do you wanna do?"

"I donno." Heyes mumbled feeling a little uncertain. "What do you think we should do?"

Kid stopped and frowned at his cousin. "Don't you know what you want Heyes?"

Heyes shrugged. "Whatever you say Kid."

Silence fell between them for a moment. This was weird. Jed had never known Heyes to be so undecided about something this basic, but Heyes just stood there and looked lost and a little concerned. He was unable to make this simple decision and was waiting for Jed to lead the way.

"Okay Heyes." Kid assured him quietly. "Let's go get something to eat first. Probably not a good idea to be drinking beer on an empty stomach anyway, especially when you haven't had beer in a while."

"Yeah."

Ten minutes later found the two cousins walking into a pleasant cafe that Jed had become well acquainted with over the past four or so years and Heyes' mood instantly brightened up. He grinned as the enticing aromas of home cooking filled his senses and he could almost feel his mouth start to water in anticipation.

"Oh yeah, I am hungry." He happily admitted.

"Good!" Jed laughed. "That makes two of us."

They seated themselves down at an empty table that gave them an open view of the street and the people passing by. Heyes settled back in the chair and grinned. Slowly but surely he was beginning to believe that this was really happening, that he was really a free man. He was feeling good. Blue eyes locked onto brown and the Kid smiled.

"How ya' doin' Heyes?"

"Good. Let's eat!"

Then, as if on cue the waitress came over to their table with some menu's and a smile.

"Well, good afternoon Jed!" She greeted her repetitive customer. "Kinda surprised to see you here in the middle of the week."

"This is sorta a special occasion." Jed informed her. "This here is my partner, Hannibal Heyes. Heyes, this is Lisa."

Heyes stood up, removing his hat and sent Lisa his most charming smile.

"Ma'am."

"So I finally get to meet ya'!" She greeted him, taking note of his dark brown eyes. "You're about all Jed would talk about whenever he'd come in here for vittles." Then a thought occurred to her and she put on a slight pout. "Now that your partner's been released, does this mean we won't be seein' ya' around these parts no more, Jed?"

"Yeah, well Lisa I am sorry to say that just might be the way of it." Jed admitted. "but I surely will miss your smilin' face and your wonderful cooking!"

"Oh what a charmer you are!" She teased him. "Here ya' go. Take a look at the menu's—see what ya' want."

"Oh I don't need a menu." Heyes stated with a glint in his eye. "I know what I want. A nice thick beef steak, medium rare—that's what I want!"

Kid grinned. "Yeah, sounds good."

But Lisa frowned and shook her head.

"Oh no, you don't want that." She said, looking directly at Heyes.

Heyes frowned back at her. He might be having difficulty with making some choices, but this wasn't one of them. "Yes, I do want that." He insisted.

"You're just new released from the prison, ain't ya'?" Lisa challenged him.

"Yeah, but what's that got to..."

"Aww, sweetie." She tutted, shaking her head. "With the gruel they've been feedin' ya' up there, your innards wouldn't know what to do with a beef steak."

"But..." Heyes looked totally devastated. "I've been craving a beef steak for years! I've been looking forward to having a beef steak! That's what I want."

Kid looked distraught just seeing how disappointed Heyes was. The waitress just shook her head again.

"Take my word for it darlin'." She insisted. "You order a beef steak and you won't get a quarter of the way through it before you'll be runnin' for the back alley. Then it'll all be wasted anyways." Then she leaned forward and put a consoling hand on Heyes' shoulder. "Now we got some real nice chicken stew simmering back there—how about I bring ya' a bowl of that, with some fresh-baked bread?"

Heyes looked at the Kid, almost pleading for help.

"Chicken stew?" He repeated, not even trying to hide his disappointment.

"Believe me sweetie." She continued. "Your innards wouldn't be able to handle a beef steak just yet. Ya' gotta work your way up to that. It's real good stew—lots of vegetables. You'll like it."

"Oh well." Heyes submitted. "I guess I'm having chicken stew."

"There ya' go! You won't be sorry." She smiled at him and then turned to the Kid. "And how about you? What will you be having?"

"Ahh..." Kid really had his heart set on a juicy steak himself, but seeing Heyes staring down at the table, looking so dejected, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. "You know, that chicken stew sounds pretty good—I think I'll have me a bowl of that too."

Heyes looked across the table at his cousin, and smiled.

Lisa smiled at him as well, knowing full well that he always ordered a steak when he was in town, but she didn't let on—not one little bit. "Mighty fine!" She agreed. "You fellas like some coffee to start off with?"

"Sure."

She went off to place their orders and then returned quickly with two cups of steaming coffee.

"There ya' go!" She announced as she placed a cup down in front of each man. "I'll be right back with your stews."

And off she went to deal with that. Both Heyes and Kid picked up their cups and blew the steam away. Heyes was looking forward to this almost as much as he had been to the steak. Finally, real coffee! And he could tell, just by the aroma that it was the real thing—not that watered down dish water they called 'coffee' up at the prison.

Both men took a sip. Then suddenly both men grimaced with disgust.

"Eeww!" They both verbally complained. "That's so strong/weak!"

They stopped and looked across the table at each other in disbelief and then both of them spoke again at the same time.

"You think this is weak/strong!?"

"Heyes, this coffee tastes like dishwater!"

"I was thinking it tasted more like ground up mud."

Just then Lisa headed over their way again bringing with her two bowls of steaming stew.

"What's the matter?" She asked, noticing their expressions. "The coffee not good?"

Heyes just looked up at her with his mouth open, not quite knowing what to say.

"What did you do to it?" Kid asked, not being hindered by a tied tongue. "The coffee here has always been real good!"

"Oh, did I get them mixed up? I'm sorry." She apologized and then smiled at Heyes. "You see, after years of drinkin' that coloured water they call coffee up at the prison your taste buds wouldn't know what to make of real coffee anymore. So I always water down the coffee for you fellas who are new out of there." Then she switched, and smiled at the Kid. "I probably gave you a cup of the watered down coffee by mistake and your friend the full strength brew. Just do a trade and then see what ya' think."

The partners looked at each other across the table. This was strange. Oh well. They switched cups and each took a tentative sip and then both men smiled.

"There ya' go!" Lisa rejoiced. "Better ain't it?"

"That's more like it!" Kid agreed.

Heyes looked a little put out. "You mean I'm drinking watered down coffee?"

"Don't ya' like it?" Lisa asked him a little concerned again. "I do make it a little stronger than what the prison does, but is it too strong?"

"NO!" Heyes was adamant. "It's just right. That's what worries me."

Lisa smiled and put a reassuring hand on Heyes' arm. "Oh don't you go worryin' about that! It'll just take ya' some time and you'll be right back ta' drinkin' the strong stuff!"

"Oh, okay."

"Go on fellas!" She told them. "Dig in! Enjoy your suppers."

They both looked down at their bowls of stew, almost afraid to dip into them. Finally Heyes picked up the spoon and sampled a bit of it. His brows went up in pleasant surprise and he smiled.

"Yeah, it's good." He said over a mouthful, and then took some more.

Kid took courage from his partner and sampled the wares himself.

"Hmm, yeah." He agreed. "It is good."

"Mighty fine!" Lisa stated, then disappeared only to return lickidy split with a plate full of warm freshly baked bread with butter. Both men looked up and smiled. This meal was turning out pretty good after all.

Ten minutes later Kid had finished off his bowlful and was soaking up the gravy with some warm bread when Heyes gave a sigh and leaned back in his chair. Jed was busy chewing on a mouthful but still looked over at him and sent him a garbled inquirery.

"Wa's madder?"

Heyes took a deep breath and put down his spoon.

"I think Lisa was right." He admitted regretfully. "I'm even finding this kinda rich. It's good but I don't think I can eat anymore."

"Really?" Kid almost looked stunned—and hopeful. "Ya' hardly ate any of it Heyes. You sure you're full?"

"Yeah." Heyes nodded and pushed the bowl away. "You wanna finish it up?'

"Yeah!" Jed reached over and started pulling the bowl towards himself, but then stopped and cocked a brow at his partner. "You sure though? You had enough?"

"Oh yeah! I'm sure."

"Great!" And Jed pulled the bowl the rest of the way to replace his now empty one. "Ah, pass me some more of that bread, will ya'?"

Lisa made her way over to their table again and smiled at Jed helping his partner to finish his dinner.

"You boys like any dessert?" She asked them.

"You got anymore of that blackberry pie?" Jed asked her.

"Sure do." She told him. "That's our best seller."

"I'm not surprised about that." Jed agreed. "You gotta try this pie Heyes! I swear it's the best I ever et'!"

"I donno Kid, I'm really fu..."

"We'll take two slices." Jed ordered with a grin up a Lisa. "What he don't eat, I'll finish up."

"Fine." Lisa smiled at him. Jed always had shown a good appetite. "More coffee?"

This was met with enthusiastic acceptance from both men and she went off to get the two different coffee pots. And the pie.

Forty-five minutes later found the partners making their way over towards 'The Jail-breaker's' saloon. It was close to the hotel, and would make it easier for their friends to find them if and when they decided to join the cousins for a drink. Besides that, Jed knew the lay out and the people so he was comfortable there.

Heyes seemed distant and still unsure of himself so Kid couldn't help but be watchful of him, discreetly of course, but watchful none the less. It was then, as they were stepping up onto the boardwalk in preparation of entering the saloon through the bat wing doors that Kid noticed something that he really should have noticed before, but hadn't. Maybe it was the gloam lighting or maybe it was the angle or maybe he'd just had too many other things to think about before, but whatever the reason, Kid noticed it now.

Without thinking, he stopped Heyes with a hand to his arm and as Heyes turned to look at him, Kid raised his right hand up to tilt Heyes' jaw over to get a better look at what he thought he'd seen there. Heyes reacted instantly, defensively—instinctively wanting to protect that most vulnerable of areas. His left hand grabbed the Kid's wrist and suddenly Kid felt the hard muzzle of Heyes' Schofield pressing against his ribs and heard the click of the hammer being pulled back.

There was a strained silence. Kid didn't feel any fear at this assault, just hurt and disappointment. He looked into his cousin's dark eyes and saw fear there; fear and defensiveness. Kid softened his gaze and tried to sound reassuring.

"Heyes, it's me." He said quietly. "I'm not gonna hurt ya'."

Kid held Heyes' eyes and he saw the shift of emotions flit by. First there was suspicion and resentment, then realization, then regret, compliance and finally guarded shame. Though Heyes did not release his cousin's wrist, Jed did heard the hammer of the revolver uncocking and felt rather than saw Heyes return the gun to his holster. The ex-inmate remained tense however and he never took his eyes off his cousin. Though he still held onto Jed's wrist, the hold relaxed a little and Jed took this as permission to proceed.

He tilted Heyes' head over just a bit so that the light from the saloon could highlight the area under Heyes' jawline and then he looked and saw what he thought he'd seen; a scar. Thin and barely noticeable unless Heyes held his head at a certain angle. It hadn't been deep but it did stretch all the way across from ear to ear only becoming deeper and more noticeable when it had cut up over the jawbone just in front of Heyes' left ear.

"Jeez Heyes." Kid commented, almost in a whisper. "Is that where that other inmate tried to cut your throat?"

Heyes gave him a sardonic smile.

"Oh, he didn't try Kid." He said with a hint of maliciousness. "He did cut my throat. He just didn't cut deep enough."

"Ah jeez Heyes." Kid breathed as he released his cousin from his scrutiny. "I'm never gonna fully understand what you went through in there, am I?"

Heyes also let go and dropped his hand, but his expression was still bitter and ironic.

"That's alright Kid." He assured him, though Kid didn't feel too assured by the tone. "He got his head blown off for the effort so I suppose it's fair to say that he got his own back again."

Then he turned and walked into the saloon. Jed stood for a moment on the outside still trying to take in what had just happened. They had finally gotten Heyes out of that place, but had they gotten him out in time? Again, and not for the first time, Kid was beginning to feel like he didn't even know his cousin anymore, as though the man Kid used to know was dead and gone and that an imposter had emerged from that prison—an imposter who was only pretending to be Hannibal Heyes.

A few minutes later found the partners elbowed up at the bar in the saloon as though nothing had transpired between them. The noise that tried to pass as music was competing with the loud talking and raucous laughter of the other patrons who were out on the town to unwind from a day's work. Kid had a pint of beer in front of him, Heyes was nursing a glass of the same liquid. He was looking a little perplexed.

"Ya' know Kid, I don't think I like this."

"What? Whaddya mean?"

"The beer. It tastes funny."

"Oh? Let's see." Jed picked up Heyes' glass and took a sip. He shrugged. "Tastes okay to me Heyes. Tastes fine."

Heyes frowned then brought the glass up to his lips again and took another swallow. He made a face.

"I donno." He mumbled and then sighed in disappointment. "Maybe it's like what Lisa said and my taste buds have been ruined by prison food."

"Yeah, maybe." Kid conceded though looking worried. "Maybe ya' just need some time to re-adjust. Get used to the finer things again."

"Yeah."

Kid turned around and leaned back against the bar, beer in hand. He surveyed the open room before him and noted a couple of poker games going on. He gave his partner a nudge with his elbow and Heyes perked up and turned around too.

"What?" He asked.

"A spot just opened up at that poker game over there." Jed informed him. "Why don't you go sit in, play a game or two."

Heyes felt a cold chill of fear flash through him and his stomach knotted up.

"Ahh, I...I don't really feel like playing tonight." He said quietly.

Jed furrowed his brow and looked over at his partner. "Whaddya mean; ya' don't feel like playin'?"

He asked. "You love poker—never known ya' to turn down a game."

"Yeah. I donno." Heyes shrugged and sent a furtive glance over to the table. "I liked playing cards one on one with Kyle—that was relaxing. But, there's about five other players at that table. That's too many to keep track of."

Kid was struck dumb for a moment. "What are ya' talking about?" He finally blurted out. "You take control of a game that size." But then Kid hesitated and he noticed his partner's paled complexion and a little bit of nervous perspiration beading up on his upper lip. Heyes was really scared. "You're just out of practice." Jed quietly continued on. "You'll see; once you start playing again, you'll be right back into it."

Heyes remained silent. He was looking over at the various games being played in the saloon and though part of him wanted to go join in, his confidence in his abilities just wasn't there. The palms of his hands were sweating as his breath started to come in light shallow gasps. He felt anger at himself for being so silly and tried to push away from the bar and walk over to the game but he just couldn't do it. Then finally with a groan of frustration he turned around to face the bar again and tried to focus on drinking the beer that he just didn't have a taste for anymore.

Jed stood quietly beside him, at a total loss as to what he should say. If anything. This whole day had turned out to be nothing like what he had expected. But then maybe he had expected too much. He had figured that once Heyes was released from the prison that he would just bounce right back into being his same old partner again. But now Jed could see how unrealistic that expectation had been. Heyes' self confidence had been beaten out of him. His ability to think constructively and to make the easiest of decisions had been striped away and now it was obvious that it was going to take time to rebuild them and get Heyes back to his old self again. If they ever could.

Then Steven entered the establishment and spotting him, Jed nodded and waved him over.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Steven greeted them as he came up to the bar. "Enjoying your evening?"

"Sure." Was Heyes' non-committal response. "Interesting supper."

Steven smiled and ordered a beer.

"Paperwork all done?" Jed asked him.

"Pretty much." Steven answered. "There wasn't much to do, but I like to get those things taken care of right away or I'll never get them done." His beer came and he smiled and took a deep drink of it. "Hmm." He commented when he came up for air. "Beer's tasting pretty good tonight."

Heyes gave a bit of an ironic smile but didn't say anything.

"Well." Steven looked around the floor. "Shall we adjourn to that table over there and relax?"

"Ahh, I think I'm just going to return to the hotel." Heyes announced. "I'm kinda tired."

"What?" The Kid sounded disappointed. "Ya' sure Heyes? It's early yet."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes sent his cousin an apologetic look. "But...I'm finding all this kinda overwhelming. I think I'll just go back to the room and read until lights out. You fellas go ahead though, have a good evening."

"Ya' want me to come back with ya' Heyes?"

"No. Like I said, I'm just gonna read." Heyes reiterated. "It's just...it's too noisy. I'll see ya' later."

"Yeah, okay." Jed agreed, though he felt a little uneasy about the whole thing—or maybe guilty. He wasn't really sure.

"Alright, Mr. Heyes." Steven told him. "Perhaps I'll see you at breakfast."

Steven was met with a dimpled grin. "You can just call me 'Heyes'."

Then the ex-inmate nodded at his partner and made his way out of the saloon, leaving behind his barely touched glass of beer sitting on the bar. Steven frowned at Jed.

"What was that all about?"

"I donno." Jed shrugged. "C'mon, let's go sit down."

The two men made their way over to the empty table and settled in to finish their beers, and perhaps have another. Then they spotted Lom coming into the establishment and Jed waved over at him. Lom nodded acknowledgement, went to the bar to order a beer for himself and then joined the two other men at the table.

"What's the matter with Heyes?" He asked as he sat down. "Just passed him on the boardwalk, says he's goin' back to his room to read. What kind of a celebration is that?"

"He's been acting strange all afternoon." Kid admitted. "I guess this is just too much for him all at once."

"I'm sure that's all it is." Steven assured his friends. "Just stay close Jed, and give him time to adjust. He'll settle."

"I hope you're right Steven." Jed commented, his voice showing his concern. "I don't know what to do to help him through this."

"I don't think there's really anything you can do." Steven told him. "Just be his friend that's all."

"Yup." Jed agreed. "Be his friend and get him home. Hopefully with both of us still in one piece."

"I think he'll be fine." Steven countered. "There's nothing like a few hours on a train to help you to relax a little bit. That just might be all he needs. Just some quiet time."

"Yeah, I hope so." But Jed didn't sound too convinced.

"Don't worry about him Jed; he'll come round."

"I've spent the last thirty years of my life worrying about him—don't see no reason to stop now."

Over in the hotel lobby, Heyes walked up to the counter and smiled at the clerk.

"Good evening."

"Good evening sir, how may I help you?"

"The key to room 208 please."

"Of course." The clerk turned and took down one of the keys to that room and then did a quick check of the register. "Room 208. Mr Curry and Mr...Oh...Mr. Heyes."

The clerk noticeably paled but Heyes pretended not to notice and he smiled as he took the key.

"Would it be possible to have a carafe of coffee sent up to the room?" He asked.

"Oh, yes of course Mr...Heyes!" The clerk swallowed nervously. "I'll have the maid bring that up to you right away."

"Thank you." Heyes started to turn away and then remember something. "Oh! And some hot drinking water too if you don't mind."

"Of course."

Heyes nodded and then headed up the stairs towards his room.

Twenty minutes later Heyes had removed his gunbelt and boots and was sifting through his books to see which one he wanted to start in on when there came the soft tapping on the door. He smiled quietly and went to open it. As expected there was the young maid there laden down with a tray carrying two carafes, a cup and a small jug of cream.

"Oh! Here, let me take that." Heyes offered and he reached out to take the tray from her. "Thank you very much."

"Yessir, Mr. Heyes." She said shyly. "We didn't know if you wanted sugar or not. I can run down and get you some if you do."

"No, no. That's fine." Heyes assured her. "This is all I'll be needing, thank you."

"Yessir." The young woman actually curtsied before closing the door and departing.

Heyes smiled to himself and placed the tray down on the night stand beside his bed. Cream. He hadn't even thought to ask for cream. That was a luxury. A curtsey and cream; maybe the name of 'Hannibal Heyes' still held some clout after all.

Heyes opened the lid of the one carafe and leaning into it, he breathed deeply, savouring the rich strong coffee aroma. Mmmm; that smelled sooo good. Then he went back to his stack of books, chose one that wasn't too challenging and returned to his bed. There he pulled back the comforter, fluffed up the pillows and set them back against the headboard. Next on the agenda he poured a little bit of cream into the cup and then filled it half way with coffee. He took a cautionary sip, frowned just a bit and then filled the cup to the brim with hot water. Another sip. He smiled. Yeah, that was more like it.

He settled himself into the bed and leaned back into the pillows with a contented sigh. Five years ago he wouldn't have thought anything special about this room or this bed, but tonight; it was paradise. He lifted up the cup and took an appreciative sip of the hot liquid and then he leaned back again, closing his eyes and savouring the flavour. Steven would have recognized this ritual right away from the time he had spent with Heyes at the cafe in Cheyenne; that same appreciation of a simple pleasure.

Heyes was still having a hard time believing this was happening. It was just that morning when he'd been awakened by the loud klaxon, indicating that it was time to get up for the first roll call of the day. He'd stretched out and again had pulled back when he felt the familiar warm lump at the foot of his bed and he had looked down to meet the green eyes of his feline companion. She had yawned at him.

He smiled just a little regretfully; he was going to miss her.

Funny how things go. He'd stopped hoping for a pardon, had given up on it. He had resigned himself to spending at least another six years as a prisoner of the territory. He no longer woke up in the mornings wondering if today would be the day. He sure hadn't thought about it that morning. It was just another morning. Get up, stand at the door of the cell until the guard (it had been Davis this time) had come by and put a tick by your number. Then tidy up your cell, make the bed, do your business if you needed to and then head down for breakfast. The same old, same old routine.

Now, all of a sudden here he was in a nice hotel room, laying back on a comfy bed, his back propped up with thick plush pillows and drinking coffee with CREAM in it. His mind couldn't quite take it all in yet. He was a free man—well, relatively speaking. He sighed a little when he thought of all those conditions he'd have to abide by. They were strict, but he could do it he was sure, and he couldn't really blame the authorities for wanting to keep track of him; he was just too good at what he did. Well, used to be.

He sighed again. This wasn't at all how he had imagined his first night out of prison would be. He thought he would be ecstatic, that he would be hurrahing the town; getting drunk and helping himself to the feminine wares over at the brothel. He knew Jed was disappointed at Heyes' reactions; he knew that Jed had expected more but Heyes couldn't help it. He felt so uncertain, so out of time and place. He wasn't sure what was expected of him, what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to react to things. He felt lost.

He didn't like feeling this way. When had all his self-confidence disappeared? Had it happened gradually, over time and he hadn't noticed it slipping away? Or was it sudden? The wall he had built up around himself shattering into a million pieces when the rising pressure from outside had finally become too much for him to bear.

He could remember coming to the realization that Jed had moved ahead of him. That he had matured and grown in ways that had given him the strength and the confidence to take over the leadership of their relationship. Heyes had had mixed feelings about that. He had been pleased to see his cousin coming into his own, but at the same time jealous of his experiences. Jealous of his new friends and his new life while Heyes himself sat in a prison cell loosing touch with who he was and what he could have accomplished.

Now here he was on the outside, and totally scared to death. How had Jim Santana done it? He'd been in longer than Heyes and yet he hadn't come out of it beaten and broken. He came out stronger and more confident than ever and already set to pull the biggest heist the territory of Colorado had ever experienced. He hadn't been scared to death.

Heyes groaned and rubbed his eyes. So much for reading; his brain just couldn't focus on it, not even something light. Oh well. He poured himself another caffeine mixture and settled back into his pillows again to enjoy it and try to get his over-active mind to settle. That was one thing that hadn't changed—he still had a hard time getting his brain to shut down. So much stimulation coming at it all at once this day, it was still in shock and was so wound up, probably wouldn't let Heyes get a wink of sleep, even on this nice comfortable mattress.

Three hours later, when Jed quietly entered the darkened room, he took the chance and turned up the lamp just a bit so he could see enough to get ready for bed. He turned then and smiled when he saw his partner sound asleep with an opened book resting upon his chest. What was left of the coffee and water in the carafes was long since turned cold and the empty coffee cup lay on the floor beside the bed right where it had fallen from Heyes' grasp as he'd drifted off to sleep.

Jed pulled off his boots and then padded quietly over to his partner. He gently removed the book and pulling the comforter up, he covered his friend and basically tucked him in. It wasn't too cold that night and Heyes was still fully dressed so Jed surmised that he should be warm enough. Then he stood for a moment and looked down at his cousin's quiet, sleeping face. The soft light from the lamp highlighted it and smoothed out the hard lines and the hollow cheeks and Jed could see a hint of the man his partner used to be and it gave him hope.

"Goodnight Heyes." He whispered. "I'll see ya' in the morning."

Heyes was laying on the floor of the infirmary, clutching the padding to the wound in his side. It hurt like the dickens and he knew that he had lost a lot of blood, not just because of the copious amounts of it that was spreading out on the floor around him, but also because of his weakness and dizziness of state. He knew he'd said he would be alright, that it wasn't that bad but that was mainly to calm the fears of his young friend. If help came soon he'd likely be alright, but on his own he just wasn't strong enough to apply the pressure required to stanch the bleeding.

He groaned with the pain and lay his head back down on the hard floor and tried to keep his breathing regular, tried to stay calm so that his heart wouldn't speed up unnecessarily and pump out even more of his life's blood then it was already doing.

The escaping inmates with their hostages had been gone for at least twenty minutes now, surely Carson would be getting suspicious as to why they hadn't returned to the prison proper yet. Even he couldn't be so daft as to not notice. Help would be coming soon, Heyes was sure of it. He would be alright. It wouldn't do at all to bleed to death on the floor of his own infirmary.

Then finally the door leading from the work area opened and Mr. Carson walked in to the medical ward, and just like Reese before him, he instantly spotted the prone man bleeding on the floor. Heyes' heart did a quick skip with relief that help had finally arrived but that relief quickly turned to a chill of fear when he saw the look in that guard's eyes.

It was a look of disgust, of anger, of irritation and Heyes knew without a doubt that instead of being saved, he was going to die. He could see it in Carson's eyes; that cold, hard look. That fxxxing pxxxk and going to kill him! Heyes knew he wouldn't be able to fight back. Even if he'd been on his feet, at full capacity he wouldn't have been young enough, or big enough or strong enough to hold his own against that guard.

Goddammit! That axxhole was going to kill him! Even though common sense told him that he didn't have a hope in hell, Heyes still tried to drag himself away, tried to call out for help but he was too weak and all he could muster was a strangled whisper. He saw Carson sneer at him in irritation, then looking around the guard spied one of the pillows, and grabbing it, started walking towards the injured man.

Heyes was in a panic! He tried with all his might to drag himself away even though there was no escape. He didn't want to die! This wasn't right! How dare this bastard think that he could just walk in here and take his life like it was nothing! He tried to yell and then Carson slapped him across the face and before Heyes could recover from the blow, the pillow came down and blocked out the guard's snarling, infuriated face!

Heyes felt the heavy weight of the guard come down on top of the pillow and all breath was taken from him. Heyes fought like a man possessed—like a man fighting for his life! He clawed and kicked and tried to scream, but all the air was gone from his lungs...

Jed woke up suddenly from a deep sleep. It was just passed dawn and there was soft light coming in through the window on the other side of Heyes' bed. Jed lay there for a moment, wondering what had awakened him so abruptly and then he heard it; a quiet but almost desperate moaning, followed by raged breathing and a soft strangled yell that sent a shiver down Jed's spine.

Sitting up, Jed looked over to the other bed and saw his cousin in the throws of a nightmare. He was fighting against something, struggling to break free, his arms and legs moving in sync with his fearful cries.

"Heyes!" Jed called him quietly." Heyes, wake up!"

But Heyes continued to thrash about, his eyes under the closed lids moving rapidly from side to side and his whole body it seemed, covered in a chilling sweat. Jed got out of bed and moved over to his cousin's side.

"Heyes!" He called again, this time louder, but still no response. "C'mon Heyes, wake up! You're having a bad dream."

And then Jed touched him.

Heyes' eyes shot open in a flash and they were filled with terror! He was off the bed in an instant and he came at his cousin, his eyes now changed from the terror to a murderous rage that pierced Jed to his very heart. Curry fell backwards, onto his own bed, but Heyes came with him, landing on top of him, his hands grasping at his partner's throat.

"No! Heyes...!" But Jed's protest was cut off as Heyes' fingers tightened and Curry suddenly found himself unable to breath!

Oh my God! Heyes was trying to kill him! NO! NO! This couldn't be happening. HEYES! HEYES! GET OFF ME! GET OFF! But Jed's silent screams never made it passed the vice like grip that was strangling his throat! Jed couldn't believe it. His brain was spinning with disbelief as he tried to break the hold that his cousin had on him.

Jed grabbed him by the wrists, trying to loosen his fingers. He tried to bring his knees up, get his legs between him and his cousin's body and then maybe be able to push him away, but he couldn't do it! Heyes had him pinned down too effectively! With one hand still gripping a wrist, the other one flung out, desperately searching for something—anything to use as a lever to push Heyes off of him. Nothing came to hand.

Jed was getting desperate! His lungs were burning for air and his head was starting to pound as his oxygen starved brain began to go into a tailspin! He had to get Heyes off of him or he was going to suffocate, but Heyes was beyond any reason! His eyes had rolled up into his head so that all Jed could see of them were white ghostly slits shining from between partially closed lids.

Jed knew he could no longer be concerned about hurting his cousin—he had to get him off or he was going to die. He began to punch him in the face as hard as he could even though his brain was buzzing and his vision was degrading into a swirling black pit. He struck again and again, instinctively knowing where his assailant's face was even though he could no longer see it. He fought, striking out again, aiming for and hitting the nose, over and over again as his consciousness began to slip away.

Then suddenly, blessedly, the grip on his throat disappeared and Jed instantly sucked air into his burning lungs. He gasped! Short, shallow, raged gulps, a hand to his own throat, fighting to suck in as much oxygen as he possibly could, as quickly as his lungs would allow. His head was pounding, but his vision began to clear off and he pulled himself away, trying to sit up.

Heyes was standing by him, his eyes open and focused but with a quizzical look upon his face.

"Kid." Heyes' voice was calm but questioning. "What are you doing?"

"Wa...what?" Jed croaked, it was all he could get out.

"It's early yet. What are you doing up?"

Jed did the best he could to sit up. He still held a hand to his throat, but his breathing was gradually returning to a normal rhythm as his lungs became replenished with oxygen. He looked up at Heyes and despite the shock from the attack, Jed felt his heart give a leap of hope at the change he saw in his partner.

Heyes was looking like his old self again. Like he did five years ago. Oh, he still needed to put on some weight but the bedevilling sparkle was back in his warm brown eyes, and that smile; quizzical and impish—delightfully played about his lips. Jed's heart soared! Oh he hadn't realized how very much he had missed his friend—that scoundrel! And now here he was back again, standing before him in the light of the brightening dawn. Smiling at him.

"Heyes?" He asked, with hope in his heart. "Is that you?"

"Well yeah Kid." Heyes replied, showing his dimples. "Who else would it be? It's early yet Kid, you obviously need to get some more sleep. You know I need you to watch my back. That train job we're gonna be pulling this afternoon could be tricky and I need you to be alert."

"Oh." Jed's hopes sank. His old friend wasn't back after all. Heyes was still asleep, he was still dreaming. "Yeah Heyes, don't worry about me."

"Yeah."

Heyes wiped a hand across his nose and looked curiously at the blood that was there from the beating that Jed had given him, but it didn't seem to register. He smiled over at his cousin one more time and then settled back down onto his bed. He pulled the comforter back over himself and with a sigh of contentment he instantly fell back to sleep—or more accurately, since he was never awake in the first place, he simply continued to sleep.

Jed continued to sit on his bed and watch his cousin. He was still trying to calm his shaking nerves and to stop his teeth from chattering from the shock of the attack. The pounding in his head was starting to ease off and his lungs weren't burning quite so badly now. His arms and legs felt like wet noodles and he was getting cold so finally he also lay back down and pulled his blankets back over himself as he settled into the pillows.

He lay there for a long time just staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out what this all meant. Oh, he and David were definitely going to be having a chat about this one. But still, as Jed's nerves started to settle down, and the feeling began to return to his fingers and toes he thought about the change he'd witnessed in his cousin.

Even though Heyes had been asleep, his old self had put in an appearance. Couldn't that be considered a good thing? Didn't that suggest that the man who Heyes used to be hadn't been totally destroyed? That he was still in there somewhere, hiding away, buried underneath all that fear and pain and hopelessness, just waiting for the opportunity to come forth again, to come out from hiding, to begin to heal?

Jed continued to stare up at the ceiling he could see and remembered back to that first time in Santa Marta when he'd stood accused of murdering his employer. Someone had taken a pot shot at him—actually not just one, but numerous. That had been a really nice hat too. But, back to the point; Jed had felt the same kind of uncertainty now as he had back then and he found himself silently asking his cousin the same question that he had asked him that night in Santa Marta.

"Heyes, is this good or bad?"

And Heyes, displaying his usual cheekiness despite their dire situation, had responded;

"Well, if you don't get killed—I think it's good."

Jed sighed and then turning his head he looked over at his sleeping cousin.

"Yeah Heyes." He said softly. "If I don't get killed—I think it's good."

Jed hadn't been able to fall back to sleep again, and after a couple of hours of dozing he finally decided that it was time to get up and get ready for breakfast. He was standing over by the mirror, just finishing up his shaving when he heard Heyes stirring on the bed.

"Morning." Jed greeted him. "How ya' feelin'?"

Heyes slowly sat up and swung his legs over between the two beds. He looked around him as though to make sure that he really was where he thought he was. He looked disoriented, uncertain. Jed felt his heart sink just a little. Even though he had expected this, a small part of him had still hoped that it would be his old friend who got up this morning, not the ex-inmate. Oh well.

"I fell asleep with my clothes on." Heyes stated a little sheepishly then creased his brow when he noticed his cousin shaving with his bandana tied around his neck. He thought that odd, but decided that it was best not to comment on it.

"Yeah, well." Jed finished his shaving and wiped the excess shaving cream off his face. "You were already asleep when I got in last night and I didn't wanna wake ya' up just for that. We've slept in our clothes before and were never the worse for it."

"Hmm." Heyes nodded.

"How'd ya' sleep?" Jed asked casually.

Heyes frowned. "I had some really strange dreams, but now I can't remember them." He admitted and then gently caressed his nose. "My nose hurts."

"Oh yeah?" Jed commented dryly. "Maybe ya' hit it on something in your sleep."

"Hmm, I suppose."

"I forgot to buy ya' a razor yesterday so I guess you better use mine." Jed offered. "We can go out and get ya' some toiletries after breakfast, okay?"

"Yeah sure Kid." Heyes agreed as he shakily stood up and headed over to begin the morning ritual. "Anything you say."

Jed watched as Heyes stood in front of the mirror, looking down at the utensils and then slowly began to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged himself out of that garment and then started to pull his henley over his head, but cringed half way through and stopped before taking a deep breath and gradually working it the rest of the way off.

"Your shoulders still bothering you?" Jed asked.

"Yeah, a little." Heyes admitted as the tossed the two shirts aside. "Dr. Miller did some work on them but they're still sore—especially in the mornings."

"Well, we'll get David to work on them once we get home."

Heyes groaned and Jed smiled.

"I know Heyes, but you'll be thanking him in the end." Then the smile on Jed's face faded away as his eyes ran along the scars on Heyes' back. Silence settled over them and the Kid pulled his eyes away, knowing that Heyes would feel self-conscious if he knew his cousin was looking at them. "Maybe we can buy ya' some new clothes today." Jed continued, trying to cover up the awkward moment. "Probably shouldn't go visitin' the Sisters wearing clothes that ya' slept in. You're gonna need more anyways."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed a little sceptically. "Do we have enough money for that?"

"Sure Heyes. No need to worry about that."

Heyes sent him a suspicious look. "You didn't steal it did ya'?"

"Heyes!" Kid put on the air of mock indignation. "Of course I didn't steal it! What do ya' think I am—a crook?"

They locked eyes and then both men started to laugh. Jed's heart nearly rose up and choked him to see his partner suddenly laughing like that. It was like music to his ears. But then Heyes turned serious again as he cautiously picked up the razor and just stared at it as though he didn't know what to do.

"What's the matter?" Kid asked him.

Heyes jumped, as though he had forgotten that Kid was there and then he flashed a self-conscious smile and shrugged.

"It's been four and half years since I've shaved myself." He admitted. "I'm not sure I remember how."

"Really?" Kid asked in a slightly incredulous tone. "You were always clean shaven whenever I came to visit."

"Yeah, but a barber would come in to the prison every week and do all the shaving." Heyes explained. "They sure weren't going to let any of us inmates get hold of a razor. Every week I'd have my face and head shaved by someone else and now, I don't know..."

"Just give it a try." Jed suggested quietly. "It's not that sharp. Once ya' start it'll probably come right back to ya'."

"Yeah." But Heyes still hesitated, unsure of himself.

"You want me to do it for ya'?" Kid offered.

"No." Heyes answered. "Sooner or later I gotta do it myself. Might as well start now."

Jed nodded and then watched as Heyes lathered up his face and then slowly, tentatively began to scrape the razor across his morning stubble. The further along he got with the job the more relaxed and confident he became until he finally finished and only nicked himself once on the chin. He wiped off the excess cream, checked himself in the mirror and then turned and smiled at Jed.

Jed nodded. "Looks good! At least ya' don't have to shave your head anymore!"

Heyes' brows went up and he grinned. "Yeah!"

"Get dressed. Let's go eat!"

"About time you fellas got here!" Lom complained as the partners sat themselves down at the table in the previous cafe. "Steven and I were running outa things to talk about!"

"We had some stuff to work out." Jed stated and left it at that.

Curry and Heyes sat down and instantly Lisa was over to their table with two coffee pots and menu's tucked under her arm.

"You fellas know what you want?" She asked as she poured coffee into the three cups already on the table.

"I think I'll have the flapjacks and ham, this morning." Jed announced without a glance at the menu.

"Okay. Steven, how about you?" She asked.

"Steak and eggs would be great—rare."

"Right." Then she looked over at Lom.

"Steak and eggs sounds fine." He said. "Medium—and easy over on the eggs."

She nodded and then sent a speculative look to Heyes.

Heyes looked back at her. "Steak and eggs?" He asked tentatively.

Lisa pursed her lips and shook her head. "Nooo, not a good idea sweetie."

"Ham and...?"

She smiled and shook her head again.

Heyes sighed. "Well, what would you suggest?"

"We got some real good oatmeal simmerin'."

Down went the shoulders. "Oatmeal!" He complained. "I've eaten so much oatmeal over the past five years I'm surprised it hasn't sprouted out of my ears! There's got to be something else I can eat."

"Well how about some scrambled eggs and toast?" Lisa suggested.

Heyes smiled. "Yes! Scrambled eggs and toast—sounds good! Four eggs!"

"No." Lisa stated. "Two."

"I'm hungry!"

"You finish up the two and if you want more after that, I'll make 'em. How's that?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Sounds fine."

Heyes finished ordering his breakfast to look over and find all three of his friends smiling at him.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothin'." Kid insisted.

"Everything's fine." Lom assured him.

Steven just shook his head and drank his coffee.

It didn't take long for the meals to arrive and then all four men tucked in and did an efficient job of breaking their fasts.

"Sure you don't want to stay in town another day Steven?" Jed asked him over a mouthful of ham. "You can head back home with us tomorrow morning."

"No, no." Steven declined. "Clem is staying with Bridget while I'm away, but I still would like to get home."

"Oh, yeah I guess." Kid looked a little sheepish that he had forgotten. "How are they doing?"

"Fine." Steven smiled. "It was touch and go there for awhile, but mother and child are doing fine."

"What are you talking about?" Heyes asked with a forkful of eggs levitating between the plate and his mouth.

"Bridget and little Rosie." Steven explained as though that should have been obvious. Then he frowned and looked over at Jed. "Didn't you tell him?"

"Oh! Ahh...No, I guess not." Kid admitted "Sorry Steven. It's just that—well, he was already so depressed I didn't want to add to it and then the parole came up and everything's just gone crazy, so...no I haven't told him."

Heyes' eggs were getting cold. "Told me what!? Is Bridget okay?"

"Yes!" Steven assured him quickly. "Yes. She's fine now, but it was a little scary there for a while." Steven sighed and his complexion paled a little bit as he remembered the fear of those two weeks of walking on eggshells. "The baby came early and was a breach. I was scared to death—I thought for sure that I was going to loose them both, but the midwife we had was very experienced and I swear it was because of her that little Rosie came out alive. But it was still uncertain for some time if she was going to hang on. And Bridget had gone through quite an ordeal so was very weak." Steven shook his head and a slight trembling went through him. "Oh, thank goodness they both proved to be very strong." Then he smiled. "Like mother like daughter, as they say.

"Belle came and stayed with them for a week or so, because I had to carry on with work. And of course, Clementine was right there and very supportive. She and Bridget are such good friends so it really did Bridget's heart good to have her there with her. She really is an amazing woman." Then he smiled again and reflected. "Geesh, I remember the first time I met her. Remember Jed? It was right before your trial and she had come waltzing into my office, insisting on taking the stand in your defence. She really did not take well to the fact that you wouldn't let her!"

Jed laughed. "Yup! That's Clementine. She does everything she can to get us into trouble and then insists on flying to the rescue. She was even like that when we were kids." Then he sent a rather incredulous look over to Heyes who still hadn't managed to get that forkful of egg to his mouth. "Why do we still put up with her Heyes?"

"Because she's cute." Heyes reasoned point-blank. "And because we love her." Jed nodded appreciatively and then Heyes turned back to Steven. "So how is Bridget now?"

"She's fine now." Steven reiterated. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know sooner. But Jed was probably right in not telling you right away. We didn't know if either of them was going to make it and you had enough do deal with as is was. But no, both are fine now and as I said, Clem is staying with her while I'm away."

"Good." Heyes nodded and finally remembered his eggs. "So, you had a daughter?"

Steven beamed. "Yes! And what a little sweetheart—good set of lungs on her now too. She's beautiful."

Heyes took a swallow of coffee and nodded. "Hmm. A very good friend of mine once said that sons were an honour to have, but daughters were a gift." He smiled. "And I do believe he was right."

"I'll drink to that." Steven agreed and all four men raised their coffee cups and tapped the toast even though Jed and Lom felt a little out of the loop; neither one of them having had any children to date.

"Her name is Rosie?" Heyes asked.

"Yes. Well—Rosa Belle Granger." Steven announced proudly.

"I'll look forward to meeting her." Heyes told him and then he smiled again. "It sure is nice to be able to say that! I have yet to meet David's son and he must be walking around by now."

"Ho ho!" Jed laughed. "More than walking! I think he and Jay are going to even surpass us when it comes to getting into mischief!"

"I donno about that Kid." Heyes challenged him. "We did a pretty good job."

Just then Lisa put in an appearance with the coffee pots in hand.

"How you fellas doin'?" She asked with a smile. "More coffee?"

"OH! Yes!" Came a three-way response, and three cups were pushed in her direction.

"No." Said Lom as he started to stand up. "I'm afraid I have a train to catch. You boys take care of yourselves, ya' hear? And like we agreed; keep in touch!"

The other three men stood up and shook hands all around.

"Yeah Lom." Heyes agreed. "Thanks for coming out. It was good to see ya' again. I'll have to get out to meet your wife one of these days."

Lom grinned. "Yup. She's certainly heard all about you."

Heyes ginned sheepishly.

"See ya' Lom." Kid said. "We'll let ya' know what we're doin'. Don't worry. And thanks for everything."

"Ah huh." Lom almost sounded sceptical. "Mr. Granger. We'll be in touch."

"Sheriff."

Then Lom was gone and the three remaining patrons sat back down to finish their breakfasts. Lisa smiled as she replenished the three emptyish cups.

"Sooo...Hannibal, how are you doin' with those eggs?" She asked as she poured.

Heyes nearly choked on his mouthful at her easy use of his familiar. "Ahhmm, fine." He croaked out and then cleared his throat. "But you were right—again! Two eggs were enough."

"Yup!" She said. "Gotta work yerself up gradual. But you'll get there. You'll be eatin' steak a'fore ya' know it!"

After breakfast, Heyes and the Kid escorted Steven over to the train station, partly to see him off but also to help get Heyes' belongings stored away in the baggage car for their trip to Brookswood. Heyes was a little nervous about letting the items out of his possession even if it was just for a short time. They were precious to him, they'd been his life-line but he didn't feel comfortable just leaving them in the hotel room all day so letting Steven take them back with him seemed the lesser of two evils.

"Don't worry about it Heyes." Steven assured him, having noticed the man's anxiety. "They'll be fine in there and I'll leave them at David's place for you. They'll be fine."

"Oh, well yeah, of course they will be." Heyes tried to put on a brave face, feeling foolish at being so worried over 'things' but not being able to help it.

"We'll be coming out for a visit once Bridget is feeling up to it." Steven announced. "And once you've had some time to settle in as well, Heyes. Bridget and Clem both really want to see you again so it won't be too long, I'm sure."

Heyes smiled. "I miss them too." He admitted quietly. "It'll be good to see everyone again."

"Alright." Steven prepared to board the train. "Stay out of trouble and I'll see you both soon."

"Bye Steven." Jed gave him a quick wave. "Say 'hello' to the ladies for us."

"Bye."

"Well c'mon Heyes." Kid suggested as they watched the train steam its way out of town. "Let's go get you some more clothes."

Coming out of the mercantile an hour later Heyes was definitely looking and feeling a bit more spiffy in some new duds. He was still wearing his very comfortable black boots, but he'd added to them a pair of dark brown trousers, and a very light coffee coloured shirt covered over by his brown corduroy jacket—and a battered black hat. Jed had tried to cajole him into purchasing a new head ornament but Heyes would have none of it. Besides, he'd reasoned; had to wait for his hair to grow back to be sure they got the right size. Best to wait.

They also picked him up some toiletries along with a new razor, although Jed suggested, and wisely too, that Heyes should take Jed's older razor and Jed would take the new, sharper one. Wouldn't do at all for Heyes to finally get out of prison just to wind up cutting his own throat!

"Well, which would you rather do Heyes?" Kid asked him. "Rent a surrey and drive out to the convent, or rent a couple of horses and ride?"

"I donno." Heyes mumbled, a little uncertain. "Which do you think would be best?"

"That's why I'm askin' ya' Heyes." Kid pointed out. "I don't know what you feel you're up to. I know ya' haven't ridden in five years. Are ya' up to ridin' out there or would the surrey be better?"

Heyes shrugged. "I donno."

Kid stopped in his tracks and turned to face his cousin; he was getting a little exasperated with this.

"C'mon Heyes." He complained. "It's not that hard a choice. What do ya' feel up to doing?"

Heyes just shrugged again. He looked lost. As though he was no longer capable of making a decision like that and he looked to the Kid with eyes asking for help. Jed took sympathy on him and then smiled.

"How about we toss a coin?" He suggested with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I don't have a coin."

The twinkle grew into a wicked sparkle. "I do!"

Forty minutes later found the partners riding two rental horses out towards the convent. Curry was keeping them at a pretty steady jog trot and Heyes was finding it kinda hard to sit. He already knew he was going to be sore the next day—if not sooner!

It really didn't take long to get out to the convent and Heyes enjoyed the ride there on the most part. Everything just seemed so fresh and new to him and he spent the whole ride looking about him with a whimsical smile on his face as he tried to take everything in before it passed out of sight.

Arriving at their destination, old Bill came out and took their horses. Heyes dismounted a bit stiffly, but he smiled anyways and handed over the reins.

"Good to see ya' under an improved situation." Bill commented to the ex-inmate. "I believe that Sister Julia is expectin' ya' over in the main building."

"Thank you." Heyes responded with a smile. "Nice to be in an improved situation."

The two men then headed over to the large house that Heyes had helped to renovate and taking the steps two at a time, entered into the front foyer. Nobody was around.

"Maybe they run out on us." Heyes hypothesized.

Curry sent him the look. "I hardly think so Heyes. C'mon, they're probably in class. It is that time ya' know."

"Hmm."

But then they were stopped by the joyous greeting coming from behind them.

"Joshua! Thaddeus!" Sister Julia came in through the front door and spotted them in the hallway.

Both men turned and smiled a greeting. The Sister came and gave each of them a big hug.

"How good to see you!" She said and then gently rubbing Heyes' arm, she smiled warmly at him and gave him a quick touch on the side of his face. "Joshua." And that was all she could say, but Heyes smiled and took her into a second affectionate hug.

"Thank you." He whispered in her ear. "Thank you for everything."

They pulled away from one another and she gazed up into his warm brown eyes and smiled again. It was so good to see even just a hint of the man that he used to be smiling back at her.

"Come." She said. "The children are looking forward to seeing you."

Heyes never did like 'goodbye's'; they were awkward and were too closed-ended. He always like to think that people's path could cross again, so why bother with 'goodbye's'? Still, he felt some sense of obligation to the Sisters and to the children for staying with him throughout his ordeal. Even he had to admit that the letters the orphans had sent to him often were the one thing that kept his spirits up so they deserved at least a little bit of his time now.

They spent an hour with the group; answering whatever questions they chose to throw at him.

"What are you going to do now, Mr. Heyes?" William enquired. "Do you know what you want to do yet?"

"No." Heyes admitted. "I think for now I'm just going to work for a rancher friend of mine—actually the same man who Kid works for—and just let things settle for a while. The law is still keeping me on quite a tight leash anyways, so I kinda havta stay put."

"What do you mean?" William pushed. "Didn't you get pardoned? Aren't you free to do whatever you want?"

"No." Heyes admitted. "I didn't get a pardon, I got a parole. There's a difference."

"What's the difference?"

"Well, with a pardon then I would be free to do whatever I want." Heyes explained. "But with a conditional parole, there are certain stipulations I have to stick to. I have to prove to the law that I can live an honest life and not just go back to outlawin' like I used to." He sighed, regretfully. "And if I fall back onto my old ways, well the law has the right to throw me back into prison without another trial or anything. So I really have to be careful and watch what I do. I can't even leave the town I live in without informing the sheriff of where I'm going and when I'll be back."

"It's like living here." Joe commented. "Like you're still a child and need permission."

"That about sums it up." Heyes admitted. "So I suppose I'll be working for my old friend , Mr. Jordan for a while."

This statement was met with some long faces.

Heyes smiled. "It's not so bad." He assured the group. "He is an old friend, and his wife, Belle is about the best cook I've ever had the pleasure of taking advantage of! They're good people—just like family. It'll be fine."

"Do you know how Todd and Carol are doing?" Peter asked. "We haven't heard anything from them since they moved away."

"Yeah!" Came the universal gripe. "Not a word!"

Heyes looked over to Kid; this was his area.

"They're fine." Curry assured the group. "They've settled in to their new home like they were born to it. They're probably just so overwhelmed with their new lives that they just haven't gotten around to writing to you. I'll let them know that you were asking about them."

"Yeah." Said Sally. "They were so lucky. They got a home, and a ma and pa now. That must be so nice."

Heyes and Kid exchanged glances. They could relate to that.

"You lot don't have things too bad here." Heyes pointed out. "I know that a family of your own would be best, but sometimes you gotta just make the best of what you've got. And believe me; what you've got here isn't so bad."

"Will we ever see you again?" Asked Melanie. "Are you going to come visit?"

"Ahh." That was the question both partners had been dreading.

"We'll try." Heyes promised. "And we'll write."

Kid just smiled. He wasn't going to make any promises.

The ride back to town was quiet, with Heyes obviously off in his own world somewhere.

"Whatcha' thinkin' about Heyes?" Jed finally asked him.

"What? Oh—nothin'."

"Right." Kid snorted sceptically. "Well I can hear you thinkin' about nothin' all the way over here. What's on your mind?"

Heyes smiled then and gave up the pretence.

"Well, I guess I'm just beginning to realize how much I'm actually going to miss some of the things around here." He admitted.

"You're kidding!" Kid stated. "I thought you'd wanna be away from here as fast as possible! Don't tell me ya' wanna stay now!"

"NO!" Heyes was quick to deny that. "It's just those youngsters did a lot to keep me entertained. And Sister Julia; I really got a chance to get to know her better and for a nun she really is a good person." He smiled at his little joke. Then turned serious again. "I like her."

"No reason ya' can't stay in touch with them. Her and the kids." Kid pointed out.

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "I will try to."

"Maybe you can adopt one of 'em."

Heyes laughed. "Yeah, right! I think it's best you be married before ya' start thinking about an instant family."

Kid shrugged. "Ya' never know Heyes." He pointed out. "You're not wanted anymore. I know you got some limitations on ya' for a while, but no reason you can't start lookin' around. Find yourself a nice lady and settle down."

"Hmm, I suppose." Heyes mumbled though he didn't sound too hopeful. "Not too much I can offer as a husband." He smiled, a little sadly. "Or a father, for that matter."

"You don't know that Heyes." Jed countered him, almost echoing Kenny's lecture to him. "You don't know what lies ahead. I got no more than you do and Beth doesn't seem to mind."

"Yeah." Heyes acknowledged that. "I suppose that's true."

"The world is your oyster—as they say!"

"Ha!" Heyes laughed. "Where did you hear that?"

"I donno." Kid shrugged. "But it sounded neat, so I remembered it!"

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "I guess it is new beginnings, isn't it."

"Yup." Kid smiled. "Anything can happen!"

That evening after another supper of chicken stew, the partners found themselves over in the saloon and Jed was trying again, unsuccessfully to get Heyes interested in a poker game. Heyes was being stubborn about it, stating that he just wasn't ready yet so the Kid relented and they turned back to the bar.

The bartender came over to them and smiled at Jed as a regular customer.

"How you doin' this evening." He asked solicitously. "What'll ya' have to drink?"

Jed looked questioningly over at his partner. Heyes frowned.

"Ahh, how about a couple of shots of whiskey?" Jed suggested.

"Sure." The barkeep nodded. "Two whiskey's comin' up."

Then Jed felt a hand slip across his back as a feminine form leaned into him and came around to nuzzle into his chest. He smiled down at her.

"Well good evening Marion." He greeted her. "How's business."

"Not so good since you up and started courtin' that little hussie you call a girlfriend." She moaned. "Don't she know she's cuttin' in on my time?"

"Oh now Marion." Jed reprimanded her. "You can't be talking about Beth like that. She's a real fine young lady."

"Hmm." Marion didn't sound convinced. But then she gave up on her previous favourite and turned her attention to the new meat. She smiled up at him and thought 'well, if she couldn't have blue then brown might do just as nice.' "Hey there handsome." She cooed. "You available? Or are you courtin' some young 'lady' back home too?"

Heyes smiled and tipped his hat. "Oh no ma'am." He answered her. "I'm as available as you'd like. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Why you sure can, handsome." She purred. "A shot of whiskey would go down just fine."

Heyes flashed his dimples and Marion's heart just about melted. He sent a nod over to the bartender and that wise gentlemen came over with a third glass and poured them all another round. Marion downed her shot in one gulp and was just about to really get into her solicitations when she spotted someone over by the bat wing doors. Her smile dropped and was replaced with a frown.

"Oh crap!" She swore. "There's one of those damn prison guards! They're no fun at all—especially that one! And of course, he's headed this way! I'll see you fellas later." Then she smiled up at Heyes and licked her lips. "Yeah, I'll definitely be seein' you later."

And then she slipped away just as Kenny approached them, and he smiled after the retreating prostitute.

"Sorry if I interrupted." He said.

"Oh that's alright." Heyes assured him. "She said she'd be back."

"How ya' doin' Kenny?" Jed asked him. "You off duty for the day?"

"Yeah, just on my way home." The new warden told them. "But I heard that you were still in town and I wanted to have a quick work with you before you left. Sheriff McPherson said that you were over here so I thought I would check it out. Seems he was right."

"Hmm." Heyes wasn't too pleased with the idea of the Sheriff knowing exactly where he was. Oh, well he was probably going to have to get used to that.

"Well, can we buy ya' a whiskey while you're here?" Jed offered.

"Sure, why not." Kenny accepted. "Then why don't we go have a seat at that table over there. There's something I need to talk to you about."

Heyes and the Kid exchanged glances while the bartender came with a forth glass and filled them all up again.

"Oh, it's nothing bad." Kenny said, noticing the look pass between them. "At least, I don't think it is." Then he smiled and taking his shot glass, headed over to the aforementioned table.

Jed picked up his glass and with a smile to his cousin, followed Kenny. Heyes took the two remaining glasses in the hope that Marion would indeed be rejoining him and also headed for the table.

"So, what's up Kenny?" Kid asked as they sat themselves down.

"Well, I'll tell ya'." Kenny sighed. "I have been getting hit with a lot of protests since I allowed you fellas to walk out of the prison yesterday."

The two partners frowned at one another.

"Why?" Heyes asked, suddenly feeling a chill of dread go through him. Maybe the prison board had had a change of heart. Kenny wasn't here to take him back was he?

"Well." Kenny took a sip of whiskey. "It seems that Evelyn was rather upset that Jed hasn't been by to see her lately and my two younger boys were quite adamant that they have been hard done by! It's not at all fair...'they claim'... that the orphan children got to meet both Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, but the sons of not just 'one of the senior guards' but now 'the warden' have only had the privilege of meeting Kid Curry, but NOT Hannibal Heyes! They seemed quite put out about that."

Heyes grinned with relief

"Now, on top of that..." Kenny continued. "Charlie and William have been in touch with my oldest, Joseph who is away in collage right now and telling him all about Jed Curry coming to visit. So now I'm getting hit with protests from Joe that he has been denied the opportunity to meet either one of you!"

"Oh the life of a celebrity." Said Jed with a flourish. "Who would have thought it would come to this!?"

Heyes smiled at his cousin's antics. "What can we do to help you out Kenny?" He asked.

"Well." Kenny looked to both of them. "Joe is coming home for the summer and then he and Charlie will be heading back east together. Charlie is starting his first year as a med student, so it'll be good to have Joe there to help him get settled. In any case, if you fellas would consider coming out for a visit sometime during the summer while the whole family is together, well...I guess I would appreciate that. Would make life a lot easier I can tell you!"

Heyes and Kid exchanged glances and then both of them tried not to laugh too hard.

"Yeah, I think we can do that for ya' Kenny." Heyes agreed.

"No problem at all Kenny." Kid seconded. "Sarah is a real fine cook Heyes, wait until you taste her pot roast!"

Kenny grinned. "I guess I know what to tell Sarah to cook." He observed. "Listen, I'll pay for your train fare and your hotel. We'll already have a full house with Joseph back at home so..."

"Don't worry about that Kenny." Jed told him. "It's our pleasure to come. Maybe we can fit it in with a trip to visit Lom. Heyes hasn't met his wife yet, so that might just be a good time to do it."

"Good!" Said Kenny and he finished up his whiskey. "But I'll still cover your hotel room. I insist."

"Okay." Jed relented. "We'll get in touch."

"Thank you." Kenny said and then got to his feet. "Well, Sarah's expecting me, so I best be heading for home. Again, you fellas take care and stay out of trouble. Just let me know if you need anything."

Both men stood up to again shake hands and say their goodbyes.

"We'll see ya' soon Kenny." Said Jed. "Say 'hi' to Sarah and the kids for me."

"Thanks Kenny." Said Heyes. "I look forward to meeting your family."

Warden Reece nodded and then made his way out of the saloon and home to his own dinner and familial company.

Heyes and Kid sat back down and smiled at each other.

"Oh brother! He really had me worried there for a minute." Heyes admitted. "I was thinking this had all been a big mistake and the shackles were gonna come out again and I was going to be hauled back off to the prison."

"Over my dead body Heyes!" Jed stated. "But fortunately it didn't come to that." Then he sighed and settled back into his chair. "I think it'll be real nice to visit with Kenny and his family this summer. Let him know how things are going."

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "We can stop by the orphanage again too—say 'hello' to Sister Julia."

"Umm hmm."

Then, wouldn't you know it, Marion put in an appearance again. She smiled at her intended client and settled into the chair beside him. Heyes returned her smile with a certain amount of interest and pushed the one remaining glass of whiskey over in her direction.

"You went away without finishing your drink." He reminded her.

Marion helped herself to the shot glass and downed it in one go—again.

"So how about it handsome?" She purred, nestling into Heyes. "You up for a little fun?"

Heyes sent a questioning glance over to his cousin. He knew that Jed and this particular gal had a history and he didn't want to tread on any toes here. But Jed just smiled and gave his blessings; he'd moved on, after all.

"Go ahead Heyes." He said. "Have at her."

Heyes smiled and taking the lady by the hand they both stood up and made their exit towards the staircase. Jed sighed and looked around the room. Maybe there was a small stakes poker game he could get in to.

Heyes allowed Marion to lead the way and he watched her tightly bodiced figure sashay its way up the stairs, the dark blue skirt swaying back and forth with the movement of her hips. He was nervous but he couldn't help but smile with sensual anticipation; it'd been so long he'd almost forgotten what a real woman felt like.

They got up to the second level and Marion turned to smile at him as she opened the door to her room and slipped inside. Heyes followed her, his heart rate already beginning to increase and his nervous excitement ready to choke him.

"C'mon in Sweetie." Marion purred at him and smiled. She liked to do the newly released inmates. Sometimes they got a bit rough, but usually they were just—grateful...

Jed was still sitting at the same table nursing another pint of beer. He hadn't seen any poker games that he thought he wanted to join in on, so he had returned to the bar, paid for Marion's time with Heyes and ordered himself the other beer. Returning to the table he just sat back to relax and drink his beer and people watch while he waited for his cousin to finish up.

He was surprised when he did see Heyes coming down the stairs from the second level and was beginning to formulate some teasing remark about how quick he'd been when he saw the storm cloud that was his partner's expression. Wisely, he discarded any remarks that had come to mind and frowned in confusion as Heyes made his way over to the table and sat down without saying a word.

Jed sat and looked at him, waiting for something—anything. He just didn't understand. Jed had enjoyed Marion himself on more than one occasion and he knew that she was very gifted at what she did. He totally expected Heyes to return to the table grinning like the Cheshire cat, with all his stresses and anxiety washed away. He certainly hadn't anticipated this dark and seething outcome and he continued to sit quietly, unsure of what to say.

Then finally..."Heyes, what's the matter?" He asked quietly, his confusion showing in his tone. "What happened?"

Heyes' mouth stayed firm. "Nothin'!" He snarked. "Nothin' happened—it's fine!"

"Well obviousl_y **something**_ happened." Jed pushed. "Did Marion say something—do something?" And he sent a questioning glance up towards Marion's still closed door. "I mean, I always found her to be very..."

"No, it's not her." Heyes snarled. "It's just me, alright? I'm just...I'm not ready."

"Not ready?" Kid's tone was incredulous. How could he not be ready after five years of nothing!?

Heyes' lip pulled up and the palm of his hand came down to slap the table top with a loud whack. "Look, just drop it, why don't ya'!?" He glared at his partner. "I don't want to talk about it! Better yet—why don't we just leave!? I don't want to stay here, we can go back to that saloon on the other side of the hotel."

"Oh! Yeah—well, okay." Jed was taken by surprise, but he took one last long swallow of the beer he'd already paid for and then pushed himself away from the table.

Heyes did the same and the two men made their way across the room towards the bat wing doors. Then, as Heyes was passing through between two poker tables, a man at one of them suddenly pushed his chair back to stand up himself and ploughed right into Heyes, practically knocking him off his feet.

"Oh, sorry mister. I didn't mean..."

But Heyes was on him in a flash, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, his face a picture of pure rage.

"What the hell's your problem!" Heyes yelled at him. "Can't you watch where you're going!?"

The poker player instantly became defensive, pushing back against Heyes, ready for a fight.

"Whaddaya mean 'what's my problem'!" He yelled back. "I meant nothin' by it! But if you wanna fight, I..."

"Whoa! Whoa! Settle down." Jed was instantly between the two men, pushing them apart with a hand up against Heyes' chest. "C'mon. Just relax. It was an accident."

"Your friends got quite a tempter!" The man snarled. "You need to keep him on a shorter leash!"

Heyes growled and made another lunge for him but Kid was ready for that move and effectively blocked him.

"Heyes! C'mon, settle down!"

"Don't tell me to settle down Kid!" Heyes threw at him, anger flashing. "If he's so blind he can't see what he's doin'..."

"HEYES! Calm down!" Jed repeated with a bit more force. "We're tryin' ta' stay outa trouble, remember?"

Unnoticed by Heyes or the Kid in their altercation, the poker player had backed up a step, his complexion paling as though someone had just walked over his grave. The saloon had gone deathly quiet.

"Heyes?" The man enquired in barely more than a whisper, and then he turned frightened eyes to Jed. "Kid?" The penny had dropped. "Kid Curry?" He gulped nervously.

Both Heyes and Kid stopped their arguing and turned to look at him. Jed reached out a hand to him in an effort to placate the situation.

"It's alright mister." He said. "No harm done. Let me buy ya' a drink. My friend's just a little on edge here but he's fine now. He don't mean nothin'..."

"Yeah." The poker player stepped back even more. "Listen, I'm real sorry. I didn't realize who...I'm real sorry. I'll just be goin'..."

"No, c'mon. Let me buy ya' a drink." Kid tried to insist, still with a hand on his cousin's arm to make sure he stayed where he was.

"No, no. That's fine Mr. Curry, sir—no need for that. I think I'm just gonna go home and...make love to my wife...oh! Ahh!" He paled even more as he realized what he'd just said.

"Oh." Curry was slightly taken aback as well. "Well, yeah—alright. Ahh, no bad feelings."

"No no, that's fine." He assured the pair as he quickly gathered up his winnings and skirted around the other side of the table to make a bee line for the front door. "It's time I got home anyways."

Kid watched the man leave and then turned to his cousin while the saloon took a collective sigh of relief and carried on with the evening's festivities.

"Geesh, Heyes! What's the matter with you?" Kid asked him. "We're not even out of Laramie yet and you're pickin' a fight? Usually you're the one trying to keep me honest. What do ya' think you're doin'?"

Heyes just snarled at him and turning on his heels he stomped his way over towards the exit himself. But then he was brought up short when the bat wing doors swung inwards and Sheriff McPherson stepped into the establishment. He looked the ex-inmate straight in the eye and jerked a thumb over towards the bar. Jed groaned and headed that way himself. Crap! Could this evening get any worse?

"I find it very odd." The Sheriff began as he faced the two men. "When one of our citizens leaves his favourite saloon a good two hours before he normally does, looking like he's just seen a ghost. Then add to that the fact that I know the two ex-outlaws who assured me that they wouldn't be causing any trouble in my town are also in that same saloon—well now, that just kinda gets me thinkin' that somethin' just might be up."

He then looked from one man to the other, waiting for some explanation. Heyes was still seething and in no mood to even try to placate a nosey sheriff. Jed took it upon himself to once again calm the waters.

"Ah, we didn't mean for no trouble Sheriff." Kid assured him with a smile. "In fact, I had just offered to buy that gentleman a drink, but ah... he decided that he wanted to go home and spend some time with his wife instead. In fact..." Kid brightened up. "We were just on our way out of here ourselves! Thought we'd head over to the saloon by the hotel for one last drink."

"Uh huh." Came the Sheriff's stoic reply. "I got a better idea."

"Yes Sheriff?" Jed asked.

"Why don't you two just head straight back to your hotel and forget about your one last drink." He strongly suggested. "You got a train to catch in the morning—ain't that right?"

"Yessir Sheriff." Jed confirmed. "10:00 a.m."

"Fine." The sheriff continued. "You stay in your hotel room for the rest of the night. You get your breakfast in the morning and then you..." And he pointed a finger directly at Heyes. "...will come to my office no later than 9:30 IN THE MORNING and sign yourself out of this town. If I see either one of ya' still here tomorrow after that train has pulled out then we will be taking a ride up to the prison to have a talk with that new warden. Do we all understand one another?"

"Ah, yessir Sheriff." Jed nodded. "You won't see hide nor hair of us for the rest of tonight and we'll be on that train tomorrow, for sure."

"Uh huh." Then he turned to Heyes, noting the hard look in the ex-inmate's eyes. "How about you Mr. Heyes? You understand what I"m sayin' to you?"

Heyes' lip twitched, but he'd calmed down enough now to realize the situation he had gotten himself into and he forced himself to be amiable.

"Yessir, Sheriff." He mumbled. "I'll see you in the morning and then we'll be gone."

"Fine." The Sheriff nodded. "You've been warned. Good night, gentlemen."

And with that, he turned and stomped out of the saloon. Kid sighed with relief. That could have gone a lot worse.

"C'mon Heyes." He said. "It's gettin' late anyways. And besides, I think you need some quiet time."

"Yeah, whatever."

Later that night Jed lay awake in his bed wishing he could have some understanding of what was going on with his partner. He just didn't get it. Shortly after they'd turned lights out Jed could hear Heyes over in the other bed relieving his frustrations the only way he had available to him at that time, actually the only way he'd had available to him for the past five years. Heyes had tried to be quiet about it, but Jed knew what he was doing.

He just didn't understand it. Here Heyes'd had a flesh and blood and willing woman to give him what he needed and from what Jed could tell, he'd turned his back on her, preferring instead to lay in bed alone and tend to that need by himself. It just didn't make sense!

Jed wished that he could go and have a talk with Marion and maybe find out from her what had actually happened but he didn't want to take the chance of running into that sheriff again. There was also a good chance that Marion wouldn't say; being a lady who didn't tend to kiss and tell even if Jed had been the one paying for it.

Jed sighed and glanced over to where his partner lay in the darkness. He seemed to have finished with his business and had actually fallen asleep as Jed could hear a soft snore coming to him from that general direction. Well, good. Hopefully Heyes would sleep through the night and maybe feel better in the morning, especially if he didn't have any more nightmares! Yeah. No more nightmares Heyes, okay? Yeah.

He turned onto his side then and snuggling into the pillows, pulled the blankets up over his shoulders and was soon asleep himself.

...Heyes was laying on the hard floor the infirmary, pressing the padding against the bleeding wound in his side. It hurt like the dickens and he knew that he was loosing a lot of blood. He knew he would probably be alright if help got there soon and he hoped that it would cause it would be awfully embarrassing to bleed to death on the floor of his own infirmary!

Then the door opened and he felt a wave of relief wash over him; help had finally arrived. It was Carson, but any port in a storm right now. But then Heyes' relief quickly changed to a shiver of panic when he saw the look in that guard's eyes. That fxxxing pxxxk was gonna kill him! Carson picked up a pillow and came towards him, striking Heyes across the face and then the pillow came down, blocking out the guards snarling face and sending Heyes into a suffocating darkness...

Heyes awoke with a start. He was covered in a cold sweat and he was shivering. A tingling numbness had taken over his arms and legs and his teeth were quietly chattering with the cold and the fear. His heart was pounding and it took him a few minutes in the darkness to realize where he was. He took a deep calming breath and pulled the blankets more snugly about his shoulders while he tried to give himself time to settle down and get the feeling back in his extremities.

He could hear his partner snoring softly in the other bed and was relieved that he hadn't awakened him with that nightmare. Jed was having a hard enough time understanding what Heyes was going through without have to deal with bad dreams as well. Dammit! Even Heyes couldn't understand what he was going through these days—none of it made any sense!

These dreams were bad enough. He knew they were re-occurring, he just didn't want to admit to them and get everyone all worried about him again. They were silly dreams—it wasn't even him laying on the floor, bleeding to death, it was the Doc! So why was Heyes having these dreams where he was Doc and seeing Carson coming at him. It wasn't even Carson who had killed Doc—it was Boeman—wasn't it? And he hadn't suffocated, he had bled to death—hadn't he?

Heyes sighed. Oh this was ridiculous! He finally gets out of prison and now he's going crazy! What the hell was the matter with him? Marion had felt so good—now there was a woman who really knew her stuff and Heyes had really been getting into it, in more ways than one. And then...and then. He'd felt her tense up. Just a hint, just for a second and then it was gone. But it had been enough and Heyes had felt the resentment, the anger and the antagonism rise up in him and destroy what had been a glorious, passionate experience!

But his passion had died instantly and his anger had taken over and flared out at the very person who was actually trying to give him some pleasure. Even as he'd struck out at her he knew it wasn't her fault, that he shouldn't be behaving like that but he couldn't help it. It was as though he had no control over his body and his mind was just along for the ride.

Then the anger had turned inwards and he was seething at himself for behaving like such an idiot! Then adding to that the frustration of sexual arousal being brought up almost to the peak then abruptly snatched away and denied him—and that by his own doing! Why had he behaved that way? What was the matter with him?

And coming back downstairs and seeing Jed looking at him like that. He had felt embarrassed and ashamed and he knew that it was coming out as anger but he hadn't been able to stop it. Then he knew that he just had to get out of that saloon! What if Marion came down the stairs and saw him there? He just couldn't stand the thought of her looking at him, maybe she was even laughing at him, thinking that it was all a big joke that Hannibal Heyes couldn't even go the distance! His anger and shame took hold of him and he had to get out of there—that poker player bumping into him had simply been the final straw; the minor incident that had pushed him over the edge.

Thank goodness they were leaving in the morning! He wasn't even sure if he could face coming back here and meeting up with Kenny and his family. What if Marion spread the word? What if everyone in town would know then that he'd come up short and they would all be laughing at him? What if she tells Lisa over at the cafe? Oh no! Maybe they should skip breakfast in the morning and just stay in the room until it's time to board the train. Oh, but Jed would never go for that. Jed would insist on having breakfast. Dammit!

Heyes sighed, running his hands over his face and rubbing his eyes. This was silly, try to relax. Prostitutes and waitresses don't mingle. He was imagining things that were likely never going to happen. Just relax! Deep breaths, calm yourself down. Get some sleep. He wished Mouse was there; her purring did a lot to relax him...

Heyes actually did feel better the next morning. His night fears, though not totally washed away by dawn's light, had diminished enough for him to be able to face going out. He still felt scared, and uncertain of his footing but with Jed beside him he was able put on a brave shell and function like a normal human being, at least for now.

Coffee at the cafe had tasted pretty good, and feeling the need for something warm and comforting he had taken the chance and ordered oatmeal. It was so different from what the prison had served up under that heading that it was like experiencing a whole new different level of breakfast. It was rich and wholesome and warming to his soul. It was also very filling and as usual, he was unable to finish it—much to Jed's delight.

Jed himself was in a good mood. As far as he knew Heyes had slept through the night without any problems and appeared to be in fine spirits this morning. The episode of the previous evening was almost forgotten about and easily brushed away as simply being a matter of bad timing. Breakfast was good and gotten through without a hitch. The sun was shining and though it was still a bit chilly, the train ride home looked to be enjoyable and uneventful.

The car they were riding in was only half full so the two friends were able to sit facing each other throughout the whole trip. They were quiet on the most part, just taking comfort in each others company and in their own thoughts. Jed tended to spend much of the time reading the paper since he had done this trip so many times that there was nothing about it that could hold his interest. Heyes on the other hand couldn't seem to get enough of what was passing by him on the other side of the window.

The flat plains rolling by just seemed to hold a new magic for him, especially when they were travelling through familiar territory and old land marks. Heyes would smile and even laugh out loud at certain points along the route and Kid would look out to see what had warranted the reaction, then he would smile too; recalling the incident that had most likely sparked that response.

Three hours into the ride Heyes finally sighed and looked over at his partner; apparently he'd had enough of watching the scenery, at least for now.

"I suppose you've been on this run enough times by now." Heyes observed by way of opening up conversation. "You probably don't even need to look out the window to know exactly where we are."

Jed folded the paper and put it down on the seat beside him. "Yeah." He agreed. "We'll be passing into Colorado in about an hour and then another couple of hours on to Brookswood."

Heyes smiled and nodded. "I was just thinking about the last time I was on a train." He confessed. "I was surrounded by badges and manacled hand and foot and secured to the seat." Jed nodded but didn't say anything. "I was so tired—I hadn't slept in something like thirty-six hours—something like that. I just couldn't sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes I started to re-live what happened..."

"Yeah." Jed nodded again. "That was a rough time for both of us."

"I was scared to death." Heyes admitted. "Scared about what was going to happen to you. I knew you were still alive at that time, but we had already come close to loosing you once there and with infection and the blood loss..."

"Yeah, I know Heyes." Jed assured him. "But David pulled me through. David and Belle. Jeez, I don't think I would have made it without David." He smiled with fondness for his friend. "David is an amazing doctor. Humble but amazing. He won't take 'no' for an answer either Heyes. You think I'm stubborn...!"

"Yes, I know. I already figured that out for myself! But still, at that time..." Heyes shrugged. "I didn't know if you were going to make it or not. I was also scared to death over what was going to happen to me." He confessed, then he sighed and became reflective. "I think sometimes it's better we don't know what the future holds for us. If I had known what prison was going to be like, I think I would have made a run for it. Thrown everything away and run as fast and as far away as I could." Then he smirked derisively. "So much for the 'great' Hannibal Heyes."

"Aww, c'mon Heyes—don't be so hard on yourself." Jed admonished him. "These last five years have been hard on all of us, but we got through it, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Shows ya' what you can do when ya' have to." Jed pointed out. "I sometimes feel the same way I suppose. If I had known how long is was gonna take, I would have thrown everything away too and got ya' outa there—amnesty be damned! But we didn't know and we stuck it out." Then he grinned. "And now we both have a clean slate Heyes! It did take some doin', but we did it! And that's something to be proud of—for both of us!"

Heyes smiled back at his partner. "Yeah, Kid. You're right; it is!" Then his expression turned reflective again as he stared out at the passing landscape. "That night when they were taking me to Cheyenne, I remember there was a young boy with his parents riding in the same car as us. We locked eyes and his expression was fearful, but also curious and filled with awe. I suppose seeing me coming on board like that, shackled hand and foot and surrounded by three lawmen with rifles I must have seemed like some big notorious outlaw to him."

"Ya' were Heyes!" Kid pointed out with a laugh. "That youngster may not have known who you were at the time, but he knew you were someone special. Ya' probably got his imagination all fired up!"

"Oh, I don't think he needed me for that." Heyes surmised. "He was doing a pretty good job of imagining all on his own. I hadn't thought about him at all from that day til' this, but at the time he reminded me of me—a little bit." Another smile. "I hope he's done better for himself than I did, but he looked like he had good folks with him. Hmm, I suppose he would be about thirteen or fourteen now; just coming in to his own. I wonder where he is."

Silence settled between them again since Kid didn't feel any expectation of a response. He sat and quietly watched his cousin and wondered at his somewhat melancholy mood. Heyes wasn't right yet, that was for sure. He was having good moments, but his over all demeanour was one of depression and anxiety and Kid just hoped that once he got him home that friends and family and good food would help him to climb out of it.

By the time the train pulled in to Brookswood, dusk was settling and Jed was wondering what their next plan of action should be. Even he was tired from the strain of this particular round trip and just wanted to have some supper and relax over a beer or two rather than attempt the drive home in the gathering gloom. And they still had to pick up Heyes' belongings from David's place.

The decision got made for them as they disembarked from the train when they saw David himself come up to them on the platform. He gave them a genuine smile as he shook both their hands and then looked pointedly at Heyes.

"Welcome home, Hannibal." David greeted him. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good David." Heyes told him with a smile of his own. "It's good to see you."

But Jed, who was standing just a smidgin behind Heyes caught David's eye and shook his head. Heyes was not good.

David kept his smile and slapped Heyes on the shoulder. "Good!" He said. "It's good to see you too. C'mon, we figured you'd be tired after the trip and since you were going to be swinging by to pick up your books anyways, Tricia insisted that you stay for supper. You don't want to be driving out to the ranch tonight anyways—it's going to be pitch black soon and it's cold! C'mon!"

And David turned and started to lead the way off of the platform and out onto the street. Heyes and Kid exchanged glances and with both of them giving a relenting shrug, they picked up their personal luggage and followed their friend towards his residence.

"OH! David...I forgot..." Heyes caught up with his friend, putting a hand on his arm.

"What?"

"I have to check in with the Sheriff." Heyes informed him, looking a little sheepish. "It probably wouldn't look good if my first night in town I don't follow up on the conditions of my release."

"Oh yeah!" Jed agreed. "Geesh, I forgot about that too. Yeah, we better do that first David."

"You two go on ahead." Heyes suggested. "I'll go check in and catch up with you."

David smiled. "Hannibal, you don't know where I live."

Heyes was blank for a moment. "Oh...oh yeah, right."

"C'mon." David offered. "We'll all go over to the Sheriff's office and that way I can assure him that you will indeed be spending the evening with us. Okay?"

"Yeah..." Heyes seemed hesitant. "Yeah, okay."

David indicated the direction and he and Jed exchanged another look as Heyes headed over that way. The doctor had seen it then; what Jed had meant. Subtle, but still there; Heyes was not quite right.

Stepping into the light of the Sheriff's office, Heyes had the chilling experience of deja vu as he looked over towards the heavy wooden door that separated the main office from the cell block. He remembered only too well the time he had spent in there at the mercy of Sheriff Morrison. A slight knot developed in his stomach but then Sheriff Jacobs greeted them and his attention turned to other matters.

"Well, Mr. Heyes." The Sheriff acknowledged him. "I was waiting for you. Glad you made it; it wouldn't have looked too good if you hadn't shown up for your first signing in."

"I agree Sheriff." Heyes commented. "Don't want to ruin this before it even gets started."

"Good. Glad to hear it." The Sheriff headed back over to his desk. "Well, here's the form. Anytime you leave this county and then again, as soon as you get back, you stop by this office and sign this form here. Put the time, the date you're leaving and the date you expect to be back, and over here you state why you are leaving. Understand?"

"Yessir Sheriff." Heyes agreed, though inside he felt as though he wanted to scream. This was degrading!

Still, with a resigned sigh he picked up the pen, dipped it into the ink and signed his name in the allotted spot, put down the date and then checking the time, he added that information as well. Jacobs turned the form around and checked it over.

"Fine." He accepted it. "Now that was easy wasn't it?"

"Yessir." Heyes mumbled.

"You heading out to the Double J tonight?" The lawman asked.

"Oh, no Carl." David piped in. "Hannibal and Jed will be having supper with us this evening and then head out to the ranch in the morning. It's kind of late now."

"Mmmm Hmm." Commented the Sheriff. "Well just don't go getting into any trouble. It took your friend a little while to settle in, I hope we're not going to be having the same problem with you."

Heyes looked over at Kid who sent him a bit of a sheepish glance. Heyes grinned and then returned his attention to Sheriff Jacobs.

"I'll certainly do my best to not give you any trouble Sheriff."

"Good! Glad to hear it. Enjoy your supper."

After that it didn't take long for the three friends to walk the short distance to David's place and the fact that it was chilly and they were walking fast, just helped to get them there all the quicker! Coming in the front door Heyes was instantly hit with the enticing aroma of beef stew and fresh baked bread and suddenly he was feeling very hungry.

"Good evening!" David announced as he closed the door behind his guests. "Here they are, straight from Laramie and ready for supper!"

The tall, brunette woman who was minding the stew at the stove turned with a smile and acknowledged the newcomers.

"Welcome!" She greeted them with a pretty smile and a sparkle in her eyes. Heyes felt an instant smiting for the doctor's wife as he took off his hat and returned her smile. Oh well; at least it was a safe smiting; he wasn't interested in any relationships right now anyways. "Sit down." She continued. "Coffee's on to warm the soul—or would you fine gentlemen prefer something stronger!?"

"Ahh..." Heyes felt tongue tied.

"I do have some really nice port down in the sitting room." David offered. "Or is dinner about ready?"

"It'll be as ready as you want it to be David, or—more likely; as soon as the young master of the house decides to come out and eat."

"Oh good heavens!" David rolled his eyes. "Is that little monster playing hard to feed again!? Nathan! Come out, come out wherever you are! We have company!"

This summons was met by a loud, excited giggling from down the hallway, closely followed by the thumping of little feet on the run and then the appearance of a dark tousled head of hair and big brown eyes latching onto his father.

"Papa!" Came the rather high pitched greeting. "Beef stew!"

"Yes, we're having beef stew tonight." The parental figure agreed. "And look who's joining us for dinner."

"Uncle 'Ed!"

"Hey there Dr. Nat!" Jed greeted him. "Come on over here, someone ya' gotta meet."

Nathan came over to stand by his 'uncle' and looked enquiringly up into eyes the same colour as his own. Heyes looked down at him with a somewhat shocked expression on his face.

"This is Nathan?" Heyes asked, somewhat incredulously.

"Well, yeah." Jed told him. "Who did you think it was."

"I donno." Heyes mumbled. "I guess for a second I thought it was JJ, but then I thought why would JJ be here and how would he have dark hair? But JJ's older than Nathan isn't he?"

"Yeah." Jed answered him, matter-of-factly. "By a couple a' years—you know that."

"Yeah, but...he's so big." Heyes couldn't believe his eyes. "You mean JJ's taller than this?"

Both David and Jed grinned. "JJ comes up to my waist Heyes." Jed informed him. "They do grow ya' know."

"Well yeah...but—up to your waist!?"

In the meantime young Nathan was eyeing the new-comer with some interest and was getting a little impatient with the fact that no one was introducing him. He was after all, the young master of the house!

"Hi!" Nathan finally interrupted.

Heyes grinned down at him. "Hello."

"Who'r you?" Came the inquisitive question.

Jed smiled and then made the introductions.

"This is my cousin, Hannibal Heyes." Jed told him. "Heyes, may I introduce 'Master' Nathaniel Charles Gibson.'

Heyes squatted down to be on eye level with the child and then held out his hand for shaking.

"How do you do." Heyes greeted him.

Nathan took his hand and shook it. "Han' bul." Was the closest the inexperienced tongue could handle.

Heyes' grin deepened along with his dimples. "You can call me 'Han'."

Then Heyes stood up as another tall, dark and attractive woman came into the kitchen, trying to brush stray hair out of her face and straighten her skirt at the same time.

"Oh my goodness!" She stated. "I swear that boy is going to run me into the ground yet." Then she smiled and approaching the doctor, gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Everything go alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine." David assured her with a quick hug. "Hannibal, I'd like you to meet my wife, Tricia."

"OH!" Heyes recovered quickly. "Oh...I thought..." and he glanced over at the woman standing by the stove. "I thought she was..."

"Oh no. Sorry." David smiled at the confusion. "No, this is Tricia's cousin Miranda."

"Oh." Heyes was still grinning and feeling a little uncomfortable with the mistaken identity.

"Yes, how do you do, Mr. Heyes." Randa stepped forward and held out her hand for shaking. "I've certainly heard a lot about you."

"Oh, yes ma'am. Really?" Heyes was still feeling unusually uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Randa nodded. "And please, no need to 'ma'am' me. The name's Miranda."

"Oh, well. You can call me 'Hannibal'."

Miranda smiled. Heyes hadn't let go of her hand yet. Jed was looking at him in shocked silence for the beat of a second. That was the first time he'd ever heard Heyes tell someone they could call him by his given name. He simply accepted it from those who chose to call him that, but he'd never offered it up as an option before. Finally Jed broke the spell and touched his cousin on the arm.

"Ah, Heyes?"

"Hmm?"

"You haven't said 'hello' to David's wife yet."

"OH!" Heyes quickly looked away from Miranda and reached out to shake Tricia's hand. "I'm sorry. It is nice to finally meet you. It's just...so much all at once. It's a little overwhelming."

"I quite understand, ah—Hannibal? Han?'

"Either one, ma'am is fine."

"Good. And by all means, call me Tricia." She offered. "After all this time, I feel like we're family anyways! Goodness, between you and Jed I think that's all David's ever talked about or written about in the last five years!"

"Oh. Sorry." Heyes looked a little uncomfortable again.

Tricia smiled and waved it off. "Well come on everyone! I take it dinner's ready?"

"It's been ready for the last hour!" Randa announced. "Grab a plate! Let's dish it out!"

Heyes locked eyes with her again for an instant. She smiled and blushed—or was that just the heat from the stove? And then she quickly looked away.

Heyes lay on the floor of the infirmary, clutching the painful wound in his side. He'd lost a lot of blood and was hoping that someone would show up soon or he was going to end up bleeding to death. Then finally the door leading from the cell block opened and Carson came in. Heyes felt a rush of relief, but it was instantly replaced by cold fear when he saw the look in that guard's eye...

Heyes woke up with a start. It was dark except for a small band of light coming in from under the closed door. He was breathing heavily and he was covered in a cold sweat and had to consciously force himself to relax and to calm down his night fears. He didn't at first know where he was, but he could hear his cousin over on the other bed breathing in the slow, relaxed rhythm of sleep so he knew he wasn't still in his cell at the prison. Thank goodness. His biggest fear still was that he was going to wake up and find that the last couple of days had just been a dream and the nightmare was still his life.

He took a deep breath and started to relax and memory of the previous evening began to filter into his waking mind. They were at David's place. They'd put a cot in the guest room and Heyes had insisted on sleeping on it since he was used to sleeping on cots anyways so it wouldn't bother him. Jed could have the bed. His cousin had put in some minor protesting, but Heyes had quickly convinced him otherwise and both men had fallen asleep quickly.

But now here was Heyes, once again awakened in the wee hours by that damned reoccurring dream! What a nuisance! It didn't even make any sense! He rolled over onto his side and pulling the blankets up around his shoulders he settled into the pillows and tried to go back to sleep.

The light coming in under the door was distracting him and then he could hear someone walking around out in the kitchen. Hmm. He used to be able to ignore distractions like that, but not tonight—not after that disturbing dream and the tingling of apprehension that it always left in its wake.

He sighed again. Then he sat up and looked over at the light again. He could smell coffee brewing. Hmm. He pulled on his socks, and even though he was wearing his long johns he could still feel the early morning chill, so standing up he pulled the blanket off the cot and wrapping it around himself he quietly made his way over to the bedroom door.

He took one more quick look over to Jed, saw that he was still asleep and then quietly opened the door to see who was up and about. Oh, it was David. Heyes felt a rush of relief wash over him and came all the way out then, into the kitchen. He noticed that there were two cups sitting on the table waiting for coffee and he looked around to see if there was anyone else there. No one.

David turned away from the stove, coffee pot in hand and filled up the two cups. Heyes closed the bedroom door behind him and then stood quietly, watching this ritual. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"I was wondering how much longer you were going to be." David said, quietly. "Come on, sit down. Have some coffee."

"Oh." Heyes looked confused but moved over to the table anyways, his blanket tucked snugly around him. "How did you know I'd come out?"

David smiled at him. "I got the feeling last night that you wanted to talk, but we couldn't really get any time alone." He explained. "Kind of hard with a full house. I woke up myself about half an hour ago and figured it was time to put some coffee on. I had it all ready to go, just had to light up the stove."

"Oh." Heyes mumbled. He still felt confused but pulled out a chair and sat down anyways. Coffee did sound like a good idea right about now; might settle his nerves.

David sat down as well and took a sip of the hot liquid. "So, how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Then why do you want to talk?"

"Who says I want to talk?"

"You." David stated point-blank. "You kept looking at me all evening, which told me loud and clear that you wanted to talk. But as soon as I looked back at you, you broke the contact, which tells me that it's something that you're uncomfortable with; that maybe you're afraid to talk about it. But it's bothering you so you want to talk about it." Then he smiled a little ironically. "Jed is right about one thing—well actually, he's right about a lot of things, especially where you are concerned. But, the one thing I'm referring to right now is his insistence that he can hear you thinking. I heard you thinking all evening. So, I'm here now. No one else is around. What's on your mind Hannibal?"

Heyes just stared at David for a moment, his mouth open in confusion and surprise. Jed was the only one who was suppose to be able to read him that easily and then Heyes usually knew when he was sending out signals to his cousin. But this! Heyes hadn't even been aware that he'd been sending out an appeal for help, didn't even think that he wanted to talk about it. But then, there was David with the coffee ready, waiting for his friend to acknowledge the need that was there, but was afraid to admit to it.

Heyes took a drink of coffee to buy himself some time and then made a face; it was so strong. But then he gave a mental shrug and decided that now was as good a time as any to step up to the real thing. It was a good distraction and did give him some time to try and collect his thoughts, but it still didn't help him to come up with a way to avoid the main issue. He continued to sit and David waited quietly. He knew it was coming, he could see the words trying to work their way out and he could also see the jaw tightening in a futile effort to keep them down.

Heyes let loose a resentful sigh. This was just as bad as Kenny giving him the eye and if Jed was right about David, then the doctor was going to be just as stubborn as the guard. Heyes groaned and sent a quick look over to the other man. David smiled. Heyes sat back in the chair and loosened the blanket from around his shoulders, the heat from the stove making it warm in the kitchen. Another quick look over to David. David waited.

"Well, I..." Heyes started but then stalled. Another sigh. "I spent some time with a saloon gal the other day..."

"Oh yes."

"Well, I...I couldn't..." Heyes stalled again. How in the world do you talk about something like this? Especially to another man? This was embarrassing!

But then David simply nodded. He didn't smile—he certainly didn't laugh! And then he responded casually as though they were simply talking about the weather, or the price of grain—as though it were the most normal thing in the world to be discussing.

"Were you able to get an erection at all?" The doctor asked.

Heyes shot him a look, startled by the blatancy of the question, checking to see if there was any ridicule in those dark eyes, any humour being thinly masked behind a layer of verisimilitude. But all he saw there was honest concern and Heyes relaxed; maybe this wasn't such a taboo topic after all.

"Yes." He finally answered. "Yes, at first it was fine. It was more than fine. It felt...good."

David nodded. "Okay. So what happened?'

Heyes looked down at his coffee cup and then took another swallow. "We were moving along really nicely, enjoying each other—you know. An then...then she put her arms around me and I..." He hesitated again; this was still proving to be difficult. He coughed. Another sip of coffee. David waited. "She touched the scars on my back." It was no more than a whisper. "I felt her tense up—only for an instant and then it was gone, but...I reacted to it. I just...I didn't want to stop but...everything just fell apart then and it was over—I was done. I was so embarrassed but I know it came out as anger and I probably made her feel like it was her fault, that I was blaming her, but I just couldn't stay there and look at her. I just couldn't let her know that it wasn't anything that she had done—not really. I just left."

He sighed again and took another sip of coffee. On the most part he felt better that he had gotten that out, but he was still scared of it, scared of what David was going to say. He was on edge, tense and the silence weighed on him as he waited for the verdict to come down.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it Hannibal." David assured him quietly. But Heyes snorted—he wasn't too sure that he believed that. David smiled, just a hint. "I know it's disconcerting, but these past five years have been very difficult for you; you've been through a lot.

"I remember the last time I saw you in the infirmary out there at the prison. I touched those scars then too and you had instantly tensed up. I asked you it they were still hurting you, remember?" Heyes nodded. "You said 'no' and I didn't really think anything more of it—until now. That particular punishment, those particular scars are significant in how you feel about yourself now."

Heyes frowned. "Why would they be any different than any of the others?"

"Because that punishment was the final straw. That punishment was what drove you over the edge." David explained. He sat back and considered for a moment, and then continued. "Officer Reece had been very upset about that episode. He said that he saw the instant when you gave up—saw the light die in your eyes. It tore him apart. You had been asking him, pleading with him to help you and he was unable to do so. He did try, you do know that don't you?"

Heyes was looking down at his hands, the memory of that day crushing his heart yet again. He nodded.

"Yeah, I know he tried." Heyes confirmed quietly. "I owe Kenny a lot."

"Well, just the fact that you're still alive is a big payback as far as he's concerned." David assured him. "He confessed quite openly that if you had died in the dark cell, or later by your own hand that he would never have been able to forgive himself. That the memory of that day when he saw your heart and soul being crushed would have haunted him for the rest of his life."

"I didn't know that." Heyes commented. "I guess at the time I was only thinking about my own pain and not what my actions might do to those around me." He snorted a little sardonically. "I thought I was doing Jed a favour; getting out of his way so he could get on with his life."

"Yes." David agreed. "That's not uncommon. But you know better than that now. You've passed through it and you need to move on."

Heyes furrowed his brow and shrugged. He didn't know how.

"Well talking about it is a good start." David assured him. "You had to develop new skills in that prison. Skills that would keep you alive in there but could now be detrimental to your adjusting to life out here again. In the prison you had to be ready at the drop of a pin to fight for your very life. You were constantly on the defensive, constantly having to watch for any threatening move from the other people around you. It becomes second nature to the point that you're not even aware that you're doing it."

Suddenly Heyes put a hand over his eyes and he groaned.

"What?" David asked.

"Kid." Heyes stated, point blank.

"Jed? What about him?"

"I pulled my gun on him."

"What!?" David was more surprised by this admittance then he had been about the prostitute. "Why?"

"I didn't mean to." Heyes shook his head, feeling the regret all over again. "He noticed this scar across my throat and he—touched it, trying to get a better look. I just reacted! All of a sudden...well, I wasn't even thinking. I just...suddenly I felt so threatened! And it didn't matter that it was Jed, I just felt like I had to protect myself."

"What happened?" David asked quietly, having quickly gotten himself over the surprise. "Did he back off?"

"No." Heyes shook his head. "He just looked me in the eye and assured me that I was fine, and he wasn't going to hurt me. Again, I felt so embarrassed that I would do that to my own cousin, to my best friend! And yet, I was still scared. I couldn't relax. But I forced myself to let him in, to let him take a look, but it wasn't easy; a part of me still wanted to push him away."

"But you still let him look." David confirmed. "You still let him in, passed your defences."

"Yeah." Heyes nodded.

"Good." David praised him. "That's good. But the reason that you had problems with the young lady is the same reason you felt that you needed to protect yourself against your cousin."

Heyes frowned again. That didn't make any sense. David got up and poured them both some more coffee, then settled in again to explain.

"When you and Jed were outlaws and on the run, always watching your backs, you developed what's called the 'flight or fight' instincts. Whenever you found yourselves threatened, as long as you had the option, you would run and the only times you would turn and fight was when you were trapped and had no place to run to. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah." Heyes agreed. "We didn't want to get into a shootout with lawmen. It was always preferable to just hightail it outa there."

David nodded. "But when you were in prison, you had no place to run—ever!" he continued to explain. "So the 'fight or flight' instinct quickly developed into 'fight' only. As I said before; you had to do that in order to survive in there. It has become instinct for you to be constantly on the defensive to the point where your trust in other people—even Jed, has been, well if not destroyed then certainly extremely compromised.

"The sexual act—even with a prostitute, requires a certain amount of trust just as allowing Jed into your personal space requires trust. And you're just not there yet. I think you will get there again, eventually. The fact that you did allow Jed access, even though it was difficult for you, suggests to me that you will heal and you'll be able to build that trust up again."

"So..." Heyes began a little tentatively. "I should eventually be able to...be with a woman again?"

David smiled. "Certainly." He assured his friend. "You are still physically capable of the act, that's obvious. It was only when the young woman pushed beyond your defences, entered your personal space and made you feel threatened that you had the bad reaction. Take it slow. Build trust with a young lady first and then just let 'nature' take its course."

Heyes smiled. "And with Jed?" The question was almost a tease. Kid probably would not appreciate being compared to a prostitute.

David grinned, seeing the joke. "I think your trust with Jed will return a lot faster than you think." He answered. "There's a very strong bond between you already—that was also made obvious to everyone back at the infirmary that day! You're going to be alright Hannibal. You just need to bring your defences down."

Heyes laughed a little ironically. "Easier said than done." He admitted. "I don't even know how to begin."

"You're surrounded by friends here." David pointed out. "We'll help you. You're not going to have a choice."

Considering the fact that Heyes had more than an armful of books and letters and medical journals not to mention sweaters and socks and scarves to take out to the ranch with him, Jed hired a horse and surrey for the final leg of the trip home. The two men sat quietly while Heyes once again looked about him with interest, trying to take in every aspect of the scenery quietly rolling passed them, trying to compare it with his memory of the place from five years ago.

Five years, almost to the day since the two cousins had ridden this road before on their way to meet up with their friends, the Jordan`s. Five years since they had first stepped foot onto that property which had since become Jed`s home and now, hopefully would become Heyes` home as well. At least for a while. Until he found his footing.

The morning had started out chilly but it hadn't taken long for the springtime sun to warm the blue skies and bring warmth down onto the men approaching the end of their destination. Heyes was getting a little anxious and a knot of excited anticipation was slowly developing in his gut. He couldn't remember the lay of the land that well so he didn't really know which bend in the road would bring them to the tree lined, fenced roadway leading into the Double J ranch yard. He strained his eyes forward, trying to see around each bend, trying to get sight of a dark liver chestnut coat shining in the sun.

Jed watched him searching the landscape, knowing exactly who and what he was looking for. The blond man smiled, feeling the anticipation as well and knowing how much his partner had missed that particular mare.

"We're almost there Heyes."

"What?"

"Another ten minutes and we'll be home."

Heyes shifted a little uneasily. Everybody seemed to be able to read his mind these days. It was unsettling. Still, Jed always could do it but Heyes just hadn't realized how obvious he was being.

"Yeah, I know." Heyes mumbled but a slight smile played about his lips all the same.

It seemed a whole lot longer than ten minutes but finally they did come trotting around the last bend in the road and Heyes' heart did a little jump as he recognized the tree lined lane and the pastures laid out before them. He tried not to be too obvious in his searching but he just couldn't help himself and he scanned the approaching pasture for a familiar face.

Jed didn't even bother to ask Heyes if he wanted to stop, he simply pulled on the lines and brought the little harness horse to a halt and applied the brakes. Heyes stepped down from the surrey and went over to lean his elbows along the top railing of the white fence and looked out at the horses that were contentedly grazing out in the field.

Jed wrapped the lines around the brake handle and stepped down to joined his cousin at the fence line.

"Well, there's my gelding, Gov." Jed mentioned as he pointed out towards the big shady tree that was offering shade for the small group of equines.

Heyes looked him over. "Hmm, fine looking horse Kid. Nice top line, good legs. Kinda flashy though; awful lot of white on him."

"Ho ho!" Jed laughed at that. "You should talk! Karma may not have much white on her, but you know darn well that she turns heads! Besides, I thought it was time to try something different—don't really need to worry about being invisible anymore.

"I suppose you have a point." Heyes conceded then he smiled mischievously. "Nice to see that I was able to teach ya' something about horseflesh."

"Uh huh." Came the cryptic reply. "I know enough about horses on my own Heyes. Besides, given the quality of Jesse's two years olds it would have been pretty hard to pick a bad one. Hmm, let's see. Oh! There's Daisy."

"Oh, she is pretty." Heyes commented.

"Yup." Jed agreed. "She and Beth will make a fine pair. Oh, and there's Ned kinda hiding behind Buck."

Heyes perked up a little bit at the sight of the impressive yearling. "Wow!" He stated, somewhat in awe. "He is nice. No wonder Jesse is so pleased with him."

"Yeah." Jed agreed. "He's already acting kinda studdy. I think Jesse's gonna put him out with the bachelor herd for the summer and just let him grow up and learn how to be a stallion before they put him to stand. Probably won't start breeding him until he's a three year old though, but he'll have a lot of learnin' to do before then."

Heyes smiled over at his cousin. "You're really getting into this animal husbandry stuff, aren't ya?"

Jed grinned. "Yeah, and I even know what that means now, too."

Heyes laughed and then he saw her. She walked casually out from behind the large tree trunk, looking for that special patch of grass that would strike her fancy at that particular moment of the day. Heyes' heart was suddenly in his throat and he breathed out a gentle smile as his eyes took her in. She was heavier than he remembered her, but he supposed; that shouldn't be too surprising. Two foals and lots of grass would tend to pack on the pounds after all.

Jed smiled over at Heyes, watching him watching his mare. It pleased him to see his cousin so happy, with that sparkle back in his eyes and a smile that competed with the dimples for space on the face.

"Ohh, there she is." Heyes finally breathed. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yeah, Heyes." Jed agreed. "Yes she is."

The two men just stood there for a few moments, continuing to watch the mare as she grazed, casually swishing her tail and totally uninterested in the scrutiny being sent her way. Oh she was well aware that the men who were at the fence were watching them. And of course, they must be watching her and if not her than one of her two children. Because of course, her off-spring were just tails and hooves above any other horse, not just in this field, but on the whole ranch. So naturally those humans would be admiring them and, it stands to reason; her too!

Heyes just drank her in, quietly laughing at her stand offish attitude, but the longer they stood their admiring her, the more interested she became in them. She knew of course that the one man was Buck's human. She'd known him for years and wasn't too interested in coming over to say 'hello'; they'd only just been allowed out onto the pasture for their day of grazing so Buck's human wasn't going to be enough incentive for her to come over. If Buck or Gov wanted to well then that was up to them.

But who was that other human with him? Karma continued to graze, trying to remain nonchalant but Heyes noticed that she was angling her head towards them more and more, and her eye was taking him in and the question mark was starting to form. Hmm. Rip, rip. Munch, munch. Who was that?

"Give her a call, Heyes." Jed suggested.

Heyes nodded and then stood up straighter, off the fence. "Karma!" He called out and gave a little whistle.

Karma's head came up and she looked over in their direction. She had blades of grass hanging out of her mouth and she still continued to munch, but her ears were pricked up and she was watching them. Hmm. Who was that? There was something familiar about him but she just couldn't quite put her hoof on it. She finished the grass in her mouth and dropped her head again to continue grazing.

"Karma! Hey!" Heyes called her again, and sent out another, louder whistle.

Karma's head shot up and her ears were trying to stretch up to the sun. She stopped chewing and her nostrils flared as she tried to pick up the scent of that human, but she wasn't getting much. Something was very odd here. Some stirring in her memory and in her heart was telling her that this human as significant, but she just couldn't place it.

Finally she shook her head and with a loud snort, dropped her head to graze again.

Heyes' shoulders slumped a little and he leaned onto the fence railing again. "Aww, she doesn't remember me." He mumbled, disappointment heavy in his tone.

"No Heyes, c'mon." Jed encouraged him. "Give her a chance, she's workin' on it. Wave your hat at her."

"What?"

"Yeah, c'mon." Jed insisted. "For some reason that mare was always just as fixated on that hat as you are. Wave it at her—see what she does."

Heyes took off his black hat and standing up straight again, he called out to her one more time. "Karma! Hey!" He sent out another loud whistle and then waved his hat above his head a few times.

Karma's head shot up once more, her ears looking like they were going to jump right off of her crown. The grass in her mouth was forgotten and the whites in her eyes showed as her nostrils worked overtime trying to get a hint of information.

Then they saw it; a slight quivering that rippled across her hide and her mouth opened and they could just barely make out a deep questioning nicker that caused her whole body to vibrate.

Heyes smiled and waved his hat again. "Karma!"

And then the penny dropped! A loud, high-pitched whinny broke the mid-morning silence and with a bunching up of muscles and the flying of turf, the mare dug in her hind quarters and came at a gallop towards the fence—towards her human! She continued to whinny as she came, a joyous greeting coming out with every stride she took, causing the other horses in the pasture to look up and blow in surprise, wondering what that mare was up to now?

Heyes and Kid both took a step back from the fence, thinking for sure that the mare was going to crash right into it but no; she knew better than that. Two strides from the railings, she stiffened all four of her legs and brought her large body to a shuddering, jerking halt. Her nose was in her human's face instantly, licking his nose and snuffling against his scalp and then down into his neck, breathing in his scent and exploring him with her upper lip.

Heyes laughed with delight, but was cringing as well, from her whiskers tickling him. His hand was on her face, stroking her forehead, rubbing her ears and she nearly knocked him over by returning the rub with her whole head and leaning in to him as best she could over the fence railing. Then, quick as a wink she snatched the black hat out of his hand and playfully danced away with it in her mouth.

"Hey!" Heyes laughed at her. "That's my hat! Bring that back!"

But Karma pranced away, her tail high and flying. She bucked and kicked and danced in a circle, nodding her head and swinging the hat on high in playful and joyous antics. The two men couldn't help but laugh as she shook that old hat like a dog would shake its favourite toy. Then she lit out at a full gallop, the hat still clenched between her jaws and made a bee line straight into the small herd of horses who had been watching this display from the comfort of the old tree. The other horses scattered out of her way and then the whole group was on the run.

The little harness horse also started in surprise and was blowing excitedly, thinking that maybe a gallop around the barn yard might be a fun thing to do. Jed quickly went to the animals head to steady it and remind it that it was still attached to the surrey. He stood by the horse's head, quietly stroking it while he continued to watch the antics of the mare as she chased her herd mates around the pasture, bucking and squealing with delight at every turn.

Finally, her energy sapped, (She wasn't a young and flighty maiden anymore after all!) she trotted back over to the fence, blowing with her exertion and nodding her head up and down and back and forth until she was back to her human again. She stopped in front of him and pushed the hat back against his chest, offering to return it to him now that she was done with her theatrical display.

"Oh dear." Was Heyes' only comment as he took the battered piece of felt from the mare's grasp.

Jed had come back to the fence by then and he laughed at the sight of it.

"Well, Heyes!" He observed. "Looks like you're gonna be needin' a new hat now, whether ya' want one or not!"

Heyes grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. At least the band is still intact." And then he turned to his mare again, with eyes filled with love and he patted her arched and sweating neck. "Hello Karma, my beautiful girl."

And Karma leaned her head into his chest and left it there and Heyes closed his eyes and embraced her in a head hug. "My beautiful girl."

Twenty minutes later, the two men brought the horse and surrey into the yard and Sam, who had been waiting for them, came out of the barn to hold the horse's head.

"Morning." He greeted them. "How was your trip?"

"Hello Sam, good to see you." Heyes smiled, and stepping out of the surrey, he approached the young man. "I believe I owe you a handshake."

And he offered his hand to a grinning Sam, who took it enthusiastically and gave it a hardy shake.

"The trip was fine." Heyes answered his question. "How are the youngsters settling in?"

"Fine, Mr. Heyes." Sam beamed. "Just fine. Best thing we ever did."

"Good. Glad to hear it."

"Yessir." Then Sam took hold of the horses bridle and started to lead him forward. "I'll just get this fellow unharness and settled in for the day. I have to go into town later so I'll return him to the livery then."

"That's fine Sam." Jed answered him. "Thank you."

"Oh my goodness!" Heyes exclaimed as he saw the blond headed youngster coming out of the barn, looking very curious. "Don't tell me that's JJ!"

"Yup!" Jed laughed. "In the flesh. Come on over, little man. Someone here I want ya' ta' meet."

JJ looked a little shy, but curiosity took presidence and he came over to his Uncle Jed. He leaned into and kinda, sorta hid behind Jed's leg, but he still looked out at this stranger who stood before him and wondered if this was the man whom all the fuss had been about. He didn't look like much. Jed put an encouraging hand on JJ's shoulder and brought him forward a little bit.

"JJ, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Hannibal Heyes." Jed repeated the introduction again. "Heyes, this is Jesse Jordan Jr."

Again Heyes squatted down to be on eye level with the little person, though not quite as far down as the previous introduction. His dark brown eyes were incredulous, but then he smiled and held out his hand for shaking. JJ looked up at Jed who sent a quick nod down to him and then he smiled and extended his own little hand for a shake.

"Hello." Heyes greeted him. "I can't believe it. My goodness, the last time I saw you, you were a babe in arms."

JJ giggled. "I'm not a baby!"

"No, you're sure not." Heyes agreed. "You're a fine young man. Jed tells me that you're already riding ole' Buck there, all by yourself."

JJ puffed up with pride and he grinned from ear to ear. "YEAH! I ride all the time. I help out with the calves!"

"You do!?" Heyes exclaimed. "Right out there doing a man's job!"

"YEAH!"

"JJ!" Sam called from the barn door. "Come and help me rub down this horse."

"Okay!" Came the quick response and he sent Heyes a quick wave. "Bye!"

"Bye." Heyes returned it as he stood up again. "I'll see you later."

Then he looked into Jed's eyes and shook his head. "I can't believe it." He practically whispered. "They grow up so fast."

"Yeah, they've been known to do that."

"JOSHUA!"

Both men turned at the sound of the beckoning and Heyes once again felt his heart jump up into his throat when he saw Belle coming down the porch steps, towards him. She was wiping her hands on her apron and her face was alight with pleasure at seeing her dear friend. She didn't let her surprise at his appearance show through as she had been warned enough times by others who had seen him that he was far from the man he used to be. But she still saw the man whom she'd known for so long and she just smiled, her expression beaming as she ran across the yard towards him.

Heyes was grinning like a fool. This wonderful woman—this dear friend. He had missed her so much. His throat tightened up on him and he knew that he dare not talk, that he could not talk. And then she was there and she had her arms around him and he felt his walls come crumbling down for her as he melted into her motherly embrace.

She held him tight as she would her own long-lost son and she felt him tremble and she caressed him and he held on to her as he would a life line in the desert.

"Oh Joshua." She whispered, her voice a gentle breath against his ear. "Joshua, welcome home."

And then Hannibal Heyes, ex-outlaw, ex-convict, did something he thought he would never be able to allow himself to do again; he cried.

THE END


End file.
